Bed and Breakfast [Bloodkin 1] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) (4 page)

And yet, he could not help himself. He wanted to say “yes” so badly, but he didn’t even know if he could speak. The master of the house looked handsome, powerful, and commanding, dark hair carefully bound back, dark eyes scanning Moss’s face. He reminded Moss of a wolf, a predator like the ones he used to see in the forests next to his hometown. He should run, run while he still had the chance, but his body seemed frozen. In fact, Moss’s dick very much agreed with the idea of staying, and perhaps even taking the original position.

Even as the thought flashed through his mind, Moss gasped in outrage at his own shamelessness. For crying out loud, he didn’t even know the man’s name. “Is everything all right?” the master of the house asked, arching a brow at him.

Moss somehow managed to nod. The position intimidated him, with Moss seated and a much taller man looming over him. When the other man switched positions and leaned against the desk, Moss ended up facing a very impressive erection.

Moss gulped and averted his gaze. Arousal from the part of a future employer—especially in these dubious circumstances—couldn’t be a good sign. “Well?” the man asked. “What will it be?”

Moss swallowed around the knot in his throat. He looked up at the bloodkin and found himself nodding. “Y–yes.”

The smile that appeared on his employer’s face made Moss feel even hotter. “Excellent. Now that we’ve reached an agreement, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Vane Bloodmoor.”

“Marlais Hayden, pleased to make your acquaintance,” Moss replied automatically.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Vane answered. He retrieved a bell from the desk and rang it. Almost instantly, a knock sounded at the door and the butler reappeared. “Yes, Your Lordship?”

“Benson, tell everyone to leave and compensate them for their time. I’ve made my choice. Then bring me the contract.”

The butler—apparently named Benson—nodded and stepped out. “Just a few more formalities to deal with,” Vane explained. “In the meantime, let’s talk a bit about your job will entail.”

Moss nodded. He shouldn’t be worried. This might be the best job he could ever find in this damn city. He could just stay here for a little while, until he received his first paychecks and gathered enough money for his trip.

“You’ll live here, but you’ll have your own quarters,” Vane said. “We will dine together, but occasionally, depending on my needs, I will require your blood. Also, you will have to check my accounts and visit with several merchants and lawyers in the city.”

As Vane continued to list Moss’s attributions as a secretary, Moss couldn’t help but feel just a bit excited. He’d have a job, a real job that would allow him to use his skill for numbers and letters. He quieted the small voice in his head saying his glee had nothing to do with employment.

In just a few minutes, Benson returned to the study, carrying several documents. “Ah, here we are.” Vane took the papers from Benson and sat down at the desk. Moss could no longer see him clearly, but he did realize Vane scanned the contracts. The other man dipped a quill in an inkwell and began to cross out things and write on the paper. At last, he finished, and put the quill back.

“I made a few amendments, due to our arrangement. You will be handed a copy. Read it carefully tonight. If everything is according to your wishes, tomorrow you can begin.” He nodded toward Benson. “This is my manservant, Benson, and dear friend. You’ve met already. He will help you with anything you might need during your stay.”

Apparently, Vane thought the decision had been already made. At this point, Moss didn’t doubt the man was right.

“Thank you, my lord,” he replied a bit numbly. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Vane clapped his hands together. “Well then, Benson will see you out. I expect you here tomorrow, Marlais.”

The abrupt change in mood surprised Moss. He could’ve sworn Vane also wanted him, but now, he sounded so formal and so coolly polite. Had the tent in Vane’s pants been just a play of shadows? Now, Vane just seemed eager to put distance between them.

Almost as a side thought, Vane added, “Oh, and, Benson, have the coachman take Marlais home. It’s late.”

“Understood, Your Lordship,” Benson replied.

Coachman? Moss hadn’t seen any servants, other than the ever-stoic butler. Perhaps they weren’t privy to the selection process of their master’s companions.

These thoughts evaporated when Moss processed Vane’s last order. Take him home with the coach? No way! That would be a disaster. Whoever accompanied him would see the poor state of his lodgings. How could he ever show his face here again after such a shameful experience?

“That’s quite all right. You don’t need to bother,” he hastily said.

“I insist,” Vane replied. “I wouldn’t want to have any trouble on the way back.”

His tone eliminated the chance for further protest, so Moss quietly thanked his employer, resigned to the situation. What else could he do?

After a brief good-bye, Moss followed after the butler. He registered very little on the way out of the house, except for the fact that the lounge no longer hosted a merry party. Moss couldn’t make himself care. He just wondered why Vane had seemed so cold.

Benson directed him to the wait in the foyer, yet another thing striking Moss as odd. He’d have thought the common courtesy would be to have the guest wait in the study, with the master of the house, while the butler readied the coach. He didn’t intend to complain, of course, but it did make him even more confused. Vane had insisted on Moss being his employee. Was this the man’s way to make sure Moss understood his position?

He didn’t know how long he stood there, lost in his thoughts. Finally, Benson returned. He directed Moss toward the exit. “Let us be off.”

The carriage already waited in the pathway when they left the house. From the coach box, a bleary-eyed man gave Moss a half-bored, half-inquiring look. Moss felt uncomfortable with the scrutiny, and he mentally thanked Benson when the butler ushered him inside the carriage.

He wasn’t so thankful when Benson joined him. Bad enough the coachman would see Moss’s living conditions, did Benson have to witness it as well? The butler would surely tell Vane.

“Where to?” the coachman asked from the front.

Reluctantly, Moss began to give the man directions. He looked outside as he spoke, hating himself for even feeling like this. Sure, he’d been forced to live in what was basically a rat-infested hovel, but circumstances ruled over the best of men. He’d been stupid for losing his father’s money, but from there, he’d done his best.

Neither Benson nor the coachman commented upon their destination. The carriage rolled off, the sound of the cobblestone under the wheels strangely eerie in the silence of the night.

Soon, the carriage left the bloodkin’s courtyard and took off onto the road to the harbor district. At the very edge lay a small community of workers who struggled to earn their daily bread. There, through sheer luck, a nice smile, and a couple of coins, Moss had managed to find a place to stay.

The sounds of the town sounded strangely muted, or maybe it just seemed like that to Moss. Who’d have thought he’d be coming back to his little excuse for a living space in a luxurious carriage?

But as much as Moss wanted to enjoy it, he remained very much aware of their progress through the city. The beautiful streets morphed into unpaved alleys, and all too soon, they reached their destination.

The carriage stopped and the coachman said from the front, “We can’t go farther, or the coach will get stuck in the mud.”

“That’s fine,” Moss said. He opened the door and jumped out, wincing when his boots made a squishy sound upon hitting the so-called ground.

Before he could make his escape, the butler joined him. “I have to see you to the door,” Benson explained.

This time, Moss gave up. He had no escape. Nodding wordlessly, he started walking in the direction of his temporary home. At this point, there was not much else he could do.

Seated on the couch in his study, Vane swirled his drink in his glass. Marlais had left maybe a half hour ago, but it already seemed like a lifetime. Vane had tried to put some distance between them, but it didn’t help at all to quench the fire and the need. What would happen when this desire turned into bloodlust? Could he truly keep the feeding platonic and clinical?

Vane remembered the youth’s beautiful mouth, the way his dark-blond hair framed his face, and wondered if Marlais had a lover. Such a handsome young man couldn’t have reached maturity without knowing the pleasures of the flesh.

The thought made Vane’s shaft throb. Vane abandoned the drink on the coffee table, deciding to take the matter into his own hands—literally. He undid his breeches, sighing in relief when his fist enclosed around his hard cock.

Throughout his long years, Vane had often been alone, so his hand had long ago become his best friend. With the ease of experience, he massaged his dick, rubbing his thumb across the leaking tip.

The abundant pre-cum made the glide easy and he imagined his tight fist to be Marlais’s wet mouth. The study began to melt around him, and the fantasy came to life. Marlais sat there, in front of him, his green eyes wide with wonder. Vane took hold of Marlais’s curls and pulled him closer.

Obediently, the human lowered his lips over Vane’s dick, enclosing them around the head of Vane’s shaft. At first, Marlais seemed hesitant, his little tongue flicking over Vane’s slit in slow motions. The teasing, shy motions drove Vane wild. “Open your mouth, damn it.”

Marlais did, and Vane pushed his cock inside the wet cavern. He forced himself to stop when he realized he’d choke the obviously inexperienced human. “Breathe through your nose. Take it slow.”

He released his hold on the human, allowing Marlais to set the pace. The human seemed a natural at this. The first time he tried to take Vane deep, he gagged, not surprising given Vane’s size. But Marlais persisted, and he soon set a rapid pace, engulfing Vane in an inferno of heat.

Vane tried to keep hold of his control, but in the end, he let go. He began to thrust in earnest, taking what he wanted. This time, Marlais didn’t have any problem with it, and Vane found himself encouraging him, “Yes, just like that…Suck my dick.”

“Fuck, you’re so good at this. You’re mine. You belong to me. My little whore.”

The human didn’t answer, not that he could have with a mouthful of cock. But it didn’t matter. Marlais had, at some point, freed his own dick and was now pleasuring himself. The knowledge awoke a dark instinct inside Vane and he ached to take possession of Marlais in every way. Just the thought made pleasure swept over him like a tidal wave. He exploded, sending his seed down Marlais’s throat.

He heard a choked cry and smelled Marlais’s cum as the other man came as well. Vane’s body filled with an almost unbearable flame, everything turning into pure and absolute pleasure. For a few seconds, he could barely breathe, let alone move, and he just lay there, taken aback by the intensity of his climax.

When he began to recover, he had the overwhelming urge to kiss his lover. But when he looked down, he realized Marlais was gone.

The world came crashing down around him and Vane cursed. Everything had been just a very vivid fantasy. Masturbating didn’t shame him, but doing so over a human he’d just met and losing himself so much to it meant surrendering to his base instincts.

By some miracle, he’d managed to avoid soiling his clothes, but he did have to wash up. Vane headed to the adjoining bathroom and eliminated all traces of his little episode of weakness. Just as he returned to the study, he sensed someone closing in fast.

Vane sat back at the desk, doing his best to keep a straight face. Seconds later, Benson burst in the room. In a few seconds, his butler façade faded, and he turned into his true self.

A dark elf, Kier Darksun always kept to himself. His people were reclusive and hidden, and to this day, Vane didn’t know everything about what Kier had left behind. He did know why the man had abandoned his home in the first place and why he’d become Benson, but that secret wasn’t his to tell. For his part, he’d always be thankful for meeting the elf. In front of everyone, Kier seemed Vane’s efficient butler, Benson, but in reality, he’d become so much more, the only friend and family Vane had.

“You’ll never believe it, Vane,” Kier ranted. “He lives in this horrible dump, and I thought he was going to cry when I saw it.”

Vane gritted his teeth, trying to force himself to be calm and nonchalant. He still hadn’t fully recovered from the mind-numbing orgasm, and his friend pointing out yet another problem regarding Marlais didn’t help one bit. “Well, he’ll be living here from now on. Problem solved.”

Kier chuckled. “You’re not fooling me, you know. I can see you’re dying to go there now and bring him here.”

“Mind your own business, Darksun,” Vane replied. He hated having his own weakness thrust in his face almost as much as Kier loathed being reminded of his ancestry. Besides, his friend had pegged him quite correctly. Vane ached to bring Marlais back. In fact, he’d never wanted to let him go. He wanted to explore Marlais’s body for real, not just in fantasy.

Kier ignored him. “Stop being so moody,” he said. “You shouldn’t have let him go back in the first place.”

Kier had a point, but Vane didn’t want to scare Marlais by pressing him into moving this very same night. It would’ve been strange, and humans, especially young ones like Marlais, weren’t used to the oddities of living with a bloodkin.