Page 18 of By the Pint

I was a six-hundred-and-twenty-year-old vampire. He was a soft, fragile human. I was the hunter. He was the prey. I was the convicted killer. He was an ex-pro athlete with a temper problem.

Bunny slippers aside, the power was mine to wield.

Oh, fuck, yes,he said in his head. Out loud, he whispered, “Okay, that can work.” His body quivered with nervous excitement. “But first …”

He dropped to his knees in front of me, and mine threatened to give way.

“You don’t have to,” I squeezed out through gritted teeth. But I didn’t know who I was trying to fool. I kicked my boots off and helped Casey to wiggle my trousers and underpants down my legs.

Casey took in my naked form, raking his gaze down my chest and stomach, up over my thighs, and lingering on my hard cock.Perfect, he said in his head.Fucking perfect. Then he wrapped his fist around me and dragged the flat of his tongue from the base to the tip. He paused, closed his eyes, and buried it in his mouth.

It had been a lifetime since anyone other than myself had so much as touched me there. Over three decades. And even longer since the other party was not an undead monster like myself. I hadn’t forgotten the sensation, the heat, and the soft wetness, but I hadn’t fully prepared myself for how incredible it felt.

When Casey’s hot, supple fingers reached up to cup my balls, I cried out. My hands shot up into the air in a frantic bid to find something, anything, to hold onto and anchor myself. Tostop myself from literally floating away. They found one of the wrought iron sconces and I gripped it for dear un-life as Casey began sucking me, making glorious little whines that vibrated against my length. I wasn’t sure if any of the words that left my mouth right then were real, or just garbled nonsense.

“Holy … sweet … lorbs … give it … yes … oh, gods … fuck …fuck.”

His mouth was an inferno against my icicle skin. And everywhere his tongue and lips touched was set aflame. If I wasn’t already undead, I would have surely died from the magnificent intensity.

“Case—” I started but stopped myself. Fuck, I couldn’t remember the fake name he’d given me. Couldn’t pull two thoughts together. What was it?

“Sean!” I shouted, as I remembered. Casey paused for a fraction of a second before continuing his ministrations. Gods, he was good at this. Without instruction from my brain, my fingers found purchase in his hair, and my hips began bucking into his mouth.

A belt buckle jangled. I dragged my eyelids open, pulled my head forward, as Casey took his own cock into his hand.

It was too much. I was going to break right then.

“Sean, stop. I’m so fucking close.” I was going to lose all control.

Casey froze. His eyes came up to meet mine, his expression fixed somewhere between intense pleasure and confusion. Of course, like me, he was used to hearing the other person narrate the entire event. It would have been so unusually quiet for him.

He released me and slowly pushed to his feet, kissing his way back up my body. “I would have drank you down.”

I whined, gripped him by the shirt collar and tugged him closer, so that his hot, panting breaths washed over me. “I need you, now.”

Casey kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his suit trousers, flicking them aside with his toe. He stood in front of me in only his shirt, still buttoned at the bottom, socks, and boxer-briefs. His erection proudly standing free. I wanted to feel him inside me, but I needed to fuck him, and we needed to come at the same time. Because when I came, I would not be able to hold the barrier up in my mind. He’d see into it, as I could see into his.

I needed him too distracted to care.

He kissed me, slammed me against the stone again.

“Wait,” I said, forcing a gap between us and unfastening the last two buttons of his shirt. Casey had on actual cufflinks. Why was that so hot? I left them on, and the rest of his shirt, pushing it back to expose his sculpted shoulders and, around his neck, a key hanging by a silver-coloured chain. Just a bog-standard squarish stainless-steel key. His memory washed over me. It was the key to his locker in the Bordalis Barracudas changing room. He still wore it around his neck every day. A reminder of hard work, dedication, determination, discipline paying off.

I’ve never seen a more perfect human. I let that thought slip through the barrier. Casey responded by furrowing his brow and closed the gap between us again. His hands reached out for my face.

“No.” I placed a cool palm on his chest. “I need to look at you.”

He was incredible. A body carved from intense physical exercise, a militantly controlled diet, and never giving into temptation. No matter how much that temptation ate away at him. He had a plan, had a goal, and he wasn’t about to let anything, or anyone usurp that.

I didn’t allow myself to think about what would happen after this morning. When Casey still hadn’t gleaned what he wanted from my mind. Or what my ex-best-friend-slash-blood-brother had promised him.

I couldn’t …

No, it was too much.

Wrong, and … ultimately none of my business.

I ran my fingers over the ridges on his stomach, up over his pecs, pressing my thumbs against his nipples. He sucked in his breath, and ground his pelvis against me, his legs either side of my thigh. I took my touch higher over his shoulders and the tops of his arms, watching the way the tiny hairs lifted in the wake of my fingertips. Tracing the veins that pulsed warm blood around his flawless body. Counting the scars and freckles, and the other perfect imperfections that told me he was deliciously human and deliciously alive.

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