Downs, Jana - Ravyn's Heart [Ravyn Warriors 2] (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove) (11 page)

“Let’s go to my room, Damian,” he murmured in a soothing voice meant to comfort. “We can talk there.” Damian gave a staccato nod. In the next second they were gone.

* * * *

“Sit down, brother,” Alex demanded softly, pushing Damian into the plush couch that was opposite his bed. The room still smelled like his and Dageus’s lovemaking from this morning, but it couldn’t be helped. “Talk to me, Damian. The pain is written all over your face. Kal will be back. I promise. You know I wouldn’t let him out of my sight unless I was sure he would be safe.”

“What about Allasandro? He…I never got to tell him… Gods, why are they both gone?” Damian was trembling hard against the soft expanse of cushion. Anxiety was a living, breathing creature inside of him.

“If you were human, I’d say that you need to take a Prozac,” Alex joked, petting Damian’s head. It was unusual that his older brother was so emotional, but then, whenever the emotion involved his son, it was to be expected that he would break apart. They’d nearly lost him when they’d lost Kal.

“I don’t need a Prozac. I need Allasandro back now. I need Kal to be home where he’s safe,” Damian snapped. Alex’s eyes narrowed.

“Why do you care so much about the other Ravyn? I know you slept with him, but that used to mean very little to you. Do you
like
him, Damian? I mean as more than a one-night stand.”

“Yes, I like him!” Damian glared. “What have I been saying all this time? Christ. The two people I care most about in the world were sent off to God knows where on some dangerous mission in a hostile land, and no one even informs me!”

Alex’s eyebrow rose. “The
two
people you care most about in the world? Jesus, Damian, you have it bad, mate. Is he your Bride?”

Damian sighed and put his head in his hands, closing his eyes. “He might be.” The words were whispered. “I think that’s why I’m going crazy. He won’t talk to me because Kal is mad at him for sleeping with me, and now he’s gone, and if he doesn’t come back—”

“He’ll be back,” Alex interrupted. “They always come back. This is the stress of being with one of the Ravyns, brother. A warrior’s life is a lot more dangerous than an artist’s.” He patted Damian on the back. “I’ll talk to Kal when he returns and see if I can talk some sense into him. Why don’t you stay here until then? I mean, Ally-cat has been staying in your old room, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t have it back in the meantime.”

Damian’s head snapped up. Allasandro had been sleeping in his room. In his bed. Surrounded by his old things. The notion gave him some comfort. “I would like that,” he said softly. Alex smiled knowingly.

“Of course. Let me introduce you to the Ravyns beforehand, and I’ll have Marcel go fetch your things from your apartment.”

After some very intense introductions were complete and the last of the complaints lodged against Damian with the Master of Haven, the Ravyns went about their business escorting Salvatore into town, and the vampires went to their rooms to get some much-needed rest. It was positively unnatural for vampires to be awake in the middle of the day.

Damian slipped into his old room with a bare amount of hesitation. He knew he was crossing a line somewhere but was unable to help himself. The hole in his chest was burning, and the urge to feel close to Allasandro was undeniable.
Is this what Alex felt like the whole time Kal was gone?
He turned on the bedside lamp. As with most rooms in the mansion, Allasandro’s room had the same heavy black-out curtains vampire dwellings were famous for.

Damian was surprised to find that very little had changed in the way of décor since he’d moved out years ago. The room was still the same shades of brown and teal that Maddy had picked out when Damian had been too busy to do it himself.

He opened the drawers of his old sturdy oak dresser and was surprised to find all of Allasandro’s clothing folded in extremely neat rows over the course of three drawers, underwear and socks in the top drawer. Who really organized their socks by color and length? The shirt drawer was in the middle, again organized by color and shirt type and finally the pants drawer on the bottom. Damian was surprised to note that Ally didn’t hang his jeans up like most people. Instead, he tucked them away in this chest. So what did he keep in the closet?
Hmmmm
…

Damian crossed to the closet, feeling a little guilty for being a creep and going through Allasandro’s stuff. He swung open the door and blinked. Weapons and combat attire filled the small walk-in to capacity. This was the side of Allasandro that Damian had never seen. Everything was neat and organized, maintained with the same love and care that most dancers paid their performance gear. This was Allasandro. This was his passion.

Damian reached out and ran his hand over the curve of a particularly nasty-looking scythe. It was one used for practice if the various knives and dings were any indication. He examined the other weapons and didn’t find any whose handle was so smooth from touching or whose blade was chipped from constant use. He touched Allasandro’s weapon of choice and felt a shudder pass through his entire body. He felt like he was touching an extension of his lover by touching his weaponry. The space that was empty beside the scythe called to him. It held the same shape. It was probably for another scythe, perhaps the one Allasandro had taken with him. He reasoned his way through the closet, enjoying the discovery of Allasandro’s passions.

He turned his attention away from the weaponry and glanced at the clear plastic hanging container that was filled with an interesting array of stones in each individual compartment. Damian had used the bit of plastic as a shoe holder when he’d lived here. He had to admit he liked Ally’s use better. Each section was labeled with the name of the stone, the magical properties it contained, and its use.

He ran his fingers over the cases, stopping when he touched a rather plain looking stone called “moonstone.” They were pale, polished stones with a lovely sheen on their surfaces. He unzipped the section which contained them and withdrew a single stone and the labeling card.

“Moonstone,” he read aloud. “A stone of healing and divination used primarily in works of love spells and healing spells. When used in connection with Blood diamonds, it can foretell the love life of a person.” Ally had written in a tight curled script in the corner, a more personal note to himself it seemed, “Good for party tricks but not very useful for much else. It does have a calming effect when worn around the neck or wrists.” Damian slipped the stone he’d extracted into his pocket, reasoning that Allasandro wouldn’t miss just one.

He crossed to the bed and pulled back the sheets, reveling in the scent of Allasandro that wafted up from his actions. God the man smelled good… He stripped out of his clothes faster than necessary and luxuriated into sliding into bed. The scent of all around him made him hard. He inhaled deeply, savoring the soft scent. The lotion on the night stand looked tempting, though he preferred lube.

His gaze flickered to the nightstand once again. On a whim he opened up the nightstand drawer and started rifling through its contents. He moved a small gray box out of the way, shoving it to the back of the drawer as he flipped through pictures of the other Ravyns, baseball tickets which were all-season passes to Sox games and other receipts that obviously hadn’t made their way to the trash bin yet. At least he had good taste in baseball teams. A faint buzzing sound emitted from the box and caused Damian to pause in his search for lube. Without preamble, he extricated the box from its place and flipped open the magnetized lid.

What he found there made him grin. Inside was a phallus no more than the length of his hand from the tip of his middle finger to his wrist and no thicker than two of his thick digits. Judging by the buzzing sound it was making, it was a vibrating toy as well.

“Tsk tsk, naughty boy,” Damian purred to the empty room. “Now that you’ve had me, I doubt this meager thing would satisfy you.” He held it in the palm of his hand and used his other to twist the bottom to silence the buzzing.

He brought the soft plastic to his nose and sniffed, wondering if it had been used recently. The slightly acrid scent of cleaner was the most prominent, indicating that it had been washed recently. He inhaled deeper and was rewarded by the tangy earthy smell of Allasandro. He groaned. Now he wished that he would’ve taken his time to suck and lick and taste all of Ally’s hidden recesses on their night together. He’d been so desperate to be inside him that he’d forgone the more teasing pleasure in favor of a more desperate need. Now he wished he’d explored all of his subtle desires.

Still holding the vibrator in his hand, he rummaged through the rest of the box. Condoms, another receipt, he was beginning to wonder if he ever threw the things away, and, hallelujah, lube.

“Hmmm…” Damian hummed. The possibilities swirled through his mind like naughty imps sporting tempting propositions. He hadn’t been bad in so long. Being a father had cured him of his most devious behavior, but now Kal was a grown man and Allasandro…well, he was the source of his newfound interest in the more wicked side of his life. He wanted to be bad. The urge to leave his own scent so that their smells mingled together to haunt Allasandro when he returned, as his scent was haunting Damian right now, was strong.

“Damian,” he chastised himself. “You are now entering the realm of being creepy and slightly stalker-like in appearance.” He knew logically that what he was doing was over the top, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

He uncapped the lube and squeezed a generous portion into his palm. He rested the vibrator on his chest and wrestled the uncooperative pair of boxers he’d donned down his knees and kicked them off into the bottom of the bed. His cock throbbed at the idea of what he was about to do.

He closed his eyes, shutting out everything but the scent and feel of Allasandro. His slick hand palmed the head of his already aching length, sliding back the foreskin and working it in a jerky circular twist that would bring him to climax in no time flat. He groaned aloud, trailing his other hand down slowly, picturing Allasandro doing the same thing just the week before.

* * * *

Allasandro touched him almost hesitantly, as if touching Damian’s body, if done incorrectly, was a punishable offense. He ran his palms over Damian’s taut stomach, making the muscles jump at the stimulation.

“That’s it, naughty boy,” Damian encouraged. “Touch me in all the ways you like to be touched. Show me what makes you feel good.”

Allasandro’s hand wrapped around his shaft at last, giving an experimental tug that had Damian’s hips shooting off the mattress.

“Yeah, baby. Just like that.” His naughty boy’s other hand cupped his already tight sack, rolling the delicate flesh between his fingers. Those gorgeous golden eyes had never left the area he was tormenting with his hands. After a moment, he surprised Damian by burying his face in the place where Damian’s cock and balls were separated by only a tiny span of skin and inhaled deeply. Damian’s breath hitched.

“Christ!” he cried out as Ally began laving the area with his tongue. He sucked first one and then the other ball into his mouth before letting them slide free. His hand never stopped the steady motion on his cock.

* * * *

Damian’s shaking hand reached up to twist the vibrator’s end, turning it on to full capacity. His hand on his cock got faster, and his other hand dragged the vibrator down his body. He pressed it against his tight sack before continuing his downward path. He spread his legs to expose the line of his ass. He pressed the toy to his perineum, just hard enough to tease instead of penetrate. He wasn’t a bottom, but he enjoyed his backside stimulated when the occasion called for it. His hand jerked harder on his weeping dick. It was so the occasion right now.

* * * *

Allasandro was coming apart in front of Damian’s eyes as he was commanded to his knees in front of the vampire. He panted as Damian told him to play with his dick but forbid him to come without permission.

“Yes, sir.” The whisper of submission went right to Damian’s head. Their games of dominance and submission were growing ever more in depth. It was intoxicating.

He tapped his dick on Allasandro’s virgin lips. Well, virgin enough. He’d confessed that he’d never given head before, and Damian had found the idea of breaking in that mouth to the pleasures of cocksucking to be a temptation a better man than he could not resist.