Page 89 of Thomas
“May I?” Cameron asked, smiling.
“Please,” Thomas said, then closed his eyes and lifted his chin. Cameron was deliciously heavy settled between his thighs, pressing him down into the tangled duvet and sheets because he knew Thomas liked it this way. He licked Thomas’s neck, then bit into his flesh.
Cameron was not possessive at all. Thomas didn’t think his partner had a possessive bone in his entire body. But when Cameron fed like this, Thomas reveled in the idea of truly, unequivocally belonging to him. Cameron had seen Thomas at the winter solstice party so many years ago, and he’d remembered and sought after him. An inherent and sincere part of Cameron had wanted Thomas, and now they were here. He was Cameron’s, and Cameron was his.
Their everyday life together was casual, affectionate and sweet. They talked, made macabre jokes and laughed. Played chess, smoked cigars and handled estate business together.
Underneath the surface, though, Thomas felt that their bond was anything but casual. In these moments, the external matched the internal—Cameron naked, primal and covetously draped over Thomas’s body as he fed and nourished himself with his very life essence. As the two of them lay damp, sticky and contented from the love they’d made.
Cameron fed, pulled and coaxed until Thomas’s vampiric aura released from his body in a second deeply satisfying rush of emotional pleasure. It surrounded them with warm light and color before gradually fizzling out like a firework. Cameron removed his fangs, licked and kissed the curve of Thomas’s neck, then tumbled onto his back beside him. He inhaled a deep breath and groaned in a satisfied sound that vibrated in his chest.
Thomas shifted onto his side to rest on his elbow. He slid his free hand atop Cameron’s abdomen, and Cameron met him there, threading their fingers together over his navel in the moonlit silence.
“Thank you,” Thomas whispered, then leaned down and touched his lips to Cameron’s shoulder.
Cameron huffed, smiling. “You’re welcome.”
They breathed, quiet and comfortable as their shared energy gently flowed and pulsed between them. Thomas loved these moments as well, where nothing needed to be said but everything was understood.
“I think…” Thomas began, absently staring down at the beautiful, sculpted shape of Cameron’s collarbone, chest and shoulders in the ambient darkness, “that I should visit my family estate.”
Cameron turned his head against the duvet. “What’s brought this on?”
“Sasha said that our elder father is doing poorly—that he’s had a mental breakdown of sorts. It’s hard for me to imagine such a situation… and I’m not sure if my wanting to see it for myself is out of some morbid sense of curiosity or if I’d just like to confirm it with my own eyes.”
And if his elder father truly was in a bad way, would Thomas find joy in that? Would he laugh, point and declare, “You’ve finally gotten what you deserve, you rat bastard!”
“Does it matter?” Cameron asked. “Whether it’s curiosity or confirmation?”
“I suppose not. I’m uncertain as to what I’m expecting from it, if I go. Or how I’ll feel when I walk away—or just beinginthat awful castle again. But I… I don’t know.”
Thomas sighed heavily. Cameron lifted from his relaxed position to kiss Thomas’s lips, then lay back down. He squeezed their still-entwined fingers. “The decision is yours,” he said quietly. “If you return, I will go with you.”
Thomas started, blinking. “No, you don’t need to subject yourself to that. While I don’t know what my exact sentiments will be upon visiting, for certain, itwillbe an unpleasant experience.” Cameron had offered to accompany him to Oliver’s engagement fête, but Thomas had opted to go alone. His elder father had sent a sternly worded invitation demanding his presence, and while he might be somewhat beholden to his insane family, Cameron certainly was not.
“Thomas, I’m not letting you go back to your family home alone.”
“Mira will be with me?”
Cameron lifted their clasped hands and kissed Thomas’s fingers. “And so will I. Let me support you in this, please?”
Smiling, Thomas snuggled closer until he was lying into Cameron’s side and halfway atop his chest. He slid one thigh over Cameron’s to tangle their legs. “You always support me.”
Cameron’s fingers drifted up to brush and play within the heft of Thomas’s dark hair. Staring, he softly traced the shape of Thomas’s eyebrow with his thumb. Cameron had once confessed to him that he’d developed an unhealthy fixation with Thomas’s eyelashes. “Then allow me to maintain my winning streak.”
Thomas nodded, then pressed another kiss to his lips. “Thank you, my love.”
“You are always welcome.”
The southwestern realm of Eden was gloomy and overcast the day they arranged to visit Thomas’s family home. It was one of those soggy gray days that offered nothing good nor promising when you ventured out into it, which Thomas felt was on par for the occasion.
Only two vampires greeted Thomas, Cameron and Mira at the main doors to the castle—an older second-gen woman and an even older third-gen man, neither of which Thomas recognized. This, in and of itself, was beyond strange. When he’d been living here, the castle had been teeming with vampire servants and roving guests. Dignitaries or local citizens who had business with the lords of the realm.
Even though Sasha had warned him, Thomas was taken aback by the sheer emptiness of the place. As if he were standing in front of a stone void or a black hole.
“The viscount is anxiously awaiting your presence,” the older woman croaked. “This way, please.” They followed. The olderman had taken their coats and disappeared somewhere. Toward the kitchens?
It was drafty and damp in the halls. The floor underfoot in desperate need of buffing. Thomas had undoubtedly grown used to the lush comfort and warmth of the Ashford estate, but had Blakeley Castle always been this bad? The spiderwebs used to be reserved for only the most remote and unused portions of the castle. Thomas glanced up as they walked, and there were cobwebs stretched across the high ceiling like garlands.
