Page 88 of Golden Eagle

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Sasha had heard what Nik told the other vampire: “Run tell your master I want a chat.” Then he’d thrown him across a cage like he was nothing, like a crumpled paper coffee cup. Without a second thought.

And Sashaached.

He’d felt as electric and giddy as the boy he’d been decades ago, back in Moscow, when they would sit side-by-side at the flat’s kitchen table and Nikita would pore over maps with him, showing him escape routes, smelling like pomade and harsh soap and cigarette smoke. He still smelled like pomade and smoke – but now also of blood, and vampire, and pack, and family, and home, andmate, andmine.

Sasha heard what he said –run tell your master– and a chill went down his back, and his hackles raised, and his cock stirred, and his jaw throbbed with the urge to bite, his fingers with the urge to claw. He wanted. But he waited.

Through the walk to Lanny’s apartment, the food truck. Trina yelling at them. They all deserved that – though, mostly Lanny did. Mates should be honest with each other; should cherish and confide in one another. He’d always thought that, even if he was very new at being a mate himself.

Though, perhaps an outsider would have found his and Nikita’s slow, painful dance across the decades toward one another to be just as shameful as outright lying. He didn’t know, and right now he didn’t care. Nikita had been so forceful, and that was all he wanted to think about.

The second the door to their apartment was shut, Sasha was on him; crowding him back against it, fastening his mouth to his throat.

He knew a brief moment’s worry, a fear of rejection.

But Nik’s hands landed on his waist right away, under the open halves of his jacket, on the thin material of the t-shirt that covered his ribs. He chuckled, and Sasha felt the vibration of it through his throat, a buzzing in his own lips. “Which one of us is the vampire again?”

Sasha pulled back, already breathless, heart pounding, and met Nik’s gaze. Found it amused, yes, but heavy-lidded, too. Anticipatory. “I want you to fuck me.”

Nikita blinked, surprise smoothing his expression. A blush rose in his cheeks, though. Maybe he could pretend to be full of self-control, but he liked that idea. Sasha heard his breathing hitch. “Sasha, we talked about this.”

“You won’t hurt me.”

“Sasha–”

Sasha leaned in close, so they were pressed flush, chests, and bellies, and hips. Let Nik feel how hard he was already. “I’ve been waiting for seventy-seven years. Don’t make me wait anymore.”

Nik’s mouth fell open; Sasha watched his fangs elongate; his pupils dilate. His pulse leapt, hard as a shove against Sasha’s breastbone.

Sasha leaned up to kiss him–

And Nikita met him halfway, crashing their mouths together, hands gathering fistfuls of his shirt. A harsh, biting kiss, because Nikita had been waiting too. The sharp point of a fang nicked Sasha’s lip, and Nikita licked the blood from out of his mouth, growling in the back of his throat.

“Bed,” he rasped against Sasha’s lips. “Now.”

They went in a hurried, clumsy rush, dropping jackets, kicking off boots, pulling at each other’s clothes and leaving them where they fell. Nikita cracked his elbow on the doorframe going into the bedroom, and Sasha laughed at the face he made, until they had to stop kissing, and Sasha was wheezing, and Nikita called him a “shithead” when he pushed him down onto the bed, grinning like mad, fangs flashing in the lamplight.

“You were showing off, weren’t you?” Sasha asked.

Nikita unzipped his jeans the rest of the way and shimmied out of them, cock springing up, already red and leaking at the tip. It bobbed obscenely as he kicked his jeans off to the side, and Sasha waited for the trepidation to set in. Nik wasn’t small, and he’d never done this, and he knew it would hurt, at first.

But nothing had hurt as bad as leaving home. As watching his pack die in the snow, ravens wheeling. Nothing had hurt as bad as thinking Nik would die. Or that Nik didn’t love him.

When he forced his gaze up to meet Nikita’s, Nik smirked knowingly. “Maybe I was. A little.” He climbed up onto the bed, crawling up between Sasha’s already-spread thighs, smoothing his hands up the lengths of them. His smirk faded as his gaze tracked down across Sasha’s body. Sasha had never thought much about his own looks, beyond the fact that people had always called him “pretty.” The way Nikita looked at him, throat jumping as he swallowed, his touch reverent over the sharp points of his hipbones, told him that, in Nik’s eyes, he wasbeautiful.

“Why?”

“Hmm?” Nik hummed, distracted, smoothing his palms over Sasha’s belly. Skirting down to pet the soft skin at juncture of hip and thigh, teasing.

“Why were you showing off?” Sasha asked, smiling hopelessly, even as he lifted into the touch, and his breathing quickened. “Oh, could you just…”

But Nikita kept going, ignoring his flushed cock, stroking the backs of his thighs. Dragging slowly upward. “To send a message,” he said. He shifted his grip, slid both hands between skin and mattress so he was cupping Sasha’s ass. Squeezed, and his gaze came up and locked with Sasha’s, sparking with intent. “But mostly because I knew you were watching.”

Sasha whined. Reached for him with both hands. “Come here, please, oh, come here.”

Nikita leaned down to kiss him. Licked deep into his mouth and swallowed the little sounds he couldn’t help but make. Ground their hips together, cocks sliding against one another, pre-come easing the friction. Sasha clutched at his hair, held him tight, chased forward with lips and teeth through ever miniature retreat.

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