Dante’s World 4: Crimson Nights Read online

  Dante’s World 4: Crimson Nights

  Willa Okati

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2006 Willa Okati

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file copying or sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC. Willful violation of this policy will result in suspension of account privileges and will lead to prosecution.

  WARNING: Illegal files may contain viruses

  ISBN (10) 1-59596-506-8

  ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-506-6

  Formats Available:

  HTML, Adobe PDF,

  MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader

  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  PO Box 1046

  Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Crystal Esau

  Cover Artist: Fabiano Fabris

  This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Memory

  “Are you sure this is the way out?”

  “Of course it’s the way out. Don’t you trust me?”

  “About as far as I can throw you.” Silvan nudged his lover, Malaki, in the ribs. “Not that I’d have to work hard. Bird-bones.”

  Malaki rounded on Silvan. “Bird-bones, am I?” He bared his fangs, long and curved… slightly blunt on the tips. “Well, I should be, shouldn’t I? I’m an old man and I haven’t had a decent hunt in days.”

  “Old! You’ll be old when the hills crumble. Not before then.”

  Malaki shook his head. “No jokes about hills crumbling, now. This is pretty rugged terrain. I wouldn’t be out here, crawling around the mountains, if I had half a reason not to. I’d be down in the tavern, watching the men laugh and dance. Why aren’t I, again? Oh, right. It’d be because I hooked up with you, one of this pesky new brood of demons, who have no common sense whatsoever, and don’t know any better than to bait the Lord’s daughter into a vampire’s lair at sundown. Idiot.”

  “I didn’t know she was --”

  “Oh, save it.” Malaki rubbed the flat of his hand against his forehead. His dark brown hair, never to be laced with any thread of silver no matter how old he got, tangled in his fingers. “I give in. We are lost.”

  Watching him, Silvan felt a pang of regret. After all, Malaki had been good to him. He’d taken him in when he was new to this world, watched his back, taught him how to love a good hot reaming up the ass… he owed the older vampire something for that, especially. He bit at his own lip with ordinary teeth and tasted copper on his tongue. “I’m sorry,” he tried. “I really am sorry. I know times are hard, and getting even harder day by day.”

  “The rogues.” Malaki spat on the ground. “They’ve ruined civilized life for us all. Them and their violent ways, refusing to take from the willing or those who like the chase, stealing from those they stalk unaware. Their love for destruction -- pfah! Makes me sick.”

  “Love makes you sick?” Silvan tried a gentle nudge, tickling up Malaki’s ribs. “I thought love made you happy. Made you want to throw me up against the wall and sink in. Teeth and cock. Blood and come.”

  Malaki was staring at him. He licked his lips as if they’d suddenly gone dry. “Do you want me to take you right here, right now?” he asked. “I could. There’s a nice stone just begging for me to toss you over it and eat your ass out before I hammer home a lesson about respect.”

  “Is that a threat, or is that a promise?” Silvan felt his inner fire start to burn. Sunlight and flames were deadly to his kind, but he was always hot for his lover, and Malaki could turn him into an inferno.

  Malaki crept closer, easing his way across loose scree. He kept his eyes fixed on Silvan, a gaze that would have mesmerized any human. Silvan was more or less immune to vampire magics, but not to the pure lust radiating off his lover. He grinned, egging Malaki on. “Come on,” he said. “Make up your mind, old man.”

  Malaki stopped almost close enough to touch, not-breathing into Silvan’s face. “Which do you want it to be?” he asked softly. “What do you say we have at it? Right here, right now? Your bare ass under the moonlight, on the hillside. My cock splitting you in two. Do you want this? Want me?”

  “Always.”

  Malaki stood back, spreading his arms wide. “Enough to come and take me?”

  Silvan grinned. He knew better than to play the vampire’s games. Instead of pouncing, he glanced quickly around for a less-rocky flat space, and lay down upon it, spreading his thighs wide apart and tucking his hands behind his head. “That’s not how we do it,” he purred. “You’re the one who takes me. Always have, and always will. You’re my Dom.”

  Malaki’s face hardened as he prowled closer. “You think to taunt me? Me, who could kill you without half trying?”

  Silvan knew his part in the game. “You could, if you wanted, try,” he said, bringing one knee up, opening himself further. “But why slaughter me for my thin blood when you could slake your other hungers in my tight young body?” He ran a hand up his thigh, encased in tight black leather worn until it was soft and molded to him like a second skin. From cock to knee he traced a line, watching Malaki’s eyes follow. “You know you want this,” he said softly.

  Malaki went to one knee. He reached out to press a palm down on the growing bulge in Silvan’s laced-up pants, kneading roughly, not using all of his strength, but reminding the demon of what he had. “And if I did choose to take you? What would you do then?”

  Silvan let his eyes fall half-closed and showed his teeth in a lazy grin. “I suppose I’d have to let you.”

  “Not good enough.” Malaki growled.

  “I’d enjoy your taking me.”

  “Would you now?”

  “I crave it. Crave you.” Silvan drew his other leg up and bowed both of them wide, as if he were naked and inviting Malaki in. “Come and take me, if you want me.”

  Malaki snarled and fell upon Silvan, just as Silvan had hoped, fumbling with the long laces that ran the length of both legs, and those over his swollen cock. Silvan tried to help and got his hand slapped for his pains, so he laid back and laughed, watching Malaki work himself into a frenzy over the complicated fastenings.

  “What’s so funny?” Malaki demanded.

  “Only thinking about you,” Silvan replied, demure as a girl. “Enjoying the thoughts of what you’ll do to me once I’m naked and oh, so helpless. You like them fresh and supple, don’t you?”

  Malaki stared at Silvan, then darted up to press a ferocious kiss to his mouth. Silvan tasted blood again before Malaki was through, drinking the precious drops as if they would be his last. Who knew they wouldn’t be? They were wasting precious time here on the mountainside, having a fuck when they should be finding shelter, but ah, what was life without a little risk?

  He licked thirstily at the drops he’d gotten out of Malaki, loving the taste of the vampire’s blood. There was a richness and bouquet you just didn’t get with the younger breed. When there was time to sit around and tell stories, Malaki pretended to complain about the taste of Silvan’s own youthful blood, but he still bit when they fucked and didn’t say anything while he was drinking up pure sex.

  Malaki parted from Silvan, who looked up to see the vampire’s eyes blazing with lust. He shimmied beneath his Master, pressing up with his swollen groin, feeling a matching hardness bump
into his own erection. “Do you want me now? Do you give in?”

  “I never give in. I always win.” Malaki gave Silvan’s flank a hard slap, forceful enough for a powerful sting. “Roll over,” he ordered. “I want you on your stomach.”

  “I thought you liked to see my face.”

  “I want you rough and dirty and fast this time,” Malaki insisted, pushing at Silvan with a strength much greater than Silvan’s own. “Move it. We don’t have much time, and I want to make the most of what we’ve got left.”

  Silvan rolled over gladly, the cool air caressing his naked ass as he wriggled among the stones, trying to find a position where he wasn’t kneeling directly on a rock. Harder than he thought, but from the small growls and curses that came from Malaki, he imagined his partner was enjoying the show of a bared bottom undulating for his pleasure. When he finally found a place, he writhed one more time, then purred, “I’m ready for you.”

  “Oh, no, you’re not.” Malaki smacked Silvan’s ass hard enough to leave a bruise, if he were human. A cooler caress followed, with no blood heat in the hand, tracing a fingerprint-shaped design on one cheek. “I’d mark you if I could,” Malaki said, sounding wistful. “I can bite and I could beat you, but you’d heal.”

  “You’ll never make me a slave, anyway.” Silvan shifted impatiently. “Are you going to fuck me, or what?”

  “Impatient, impatient.”

  “You were the one who said we didn’t have much time.”

  “And we don’t. But there’s always time to take a little pleasure.” Silvan sensed Malaki moving, and then felt the sting of twin punctures in the soft flesh of his ass. Fangs, the bastard had used his fangs! He felt the suction of being drunk from, the tingling sensation shooting straight to his cock. Silvan writhed and cried out, unable to find words for what he was feeling.

  “I knew this would shut you up,” Malaki muttered, laving the small wounds with his tongue -- to close them, Silvan guessed. His tongue didn’t stop there, though, but continued on, tracing patterns and circles, squiggles and sigils, all around both cheeks. “You like this, don’t you?” he asked, not seeming to expect an answer. “You like having your ass licked, you whore of a demon.”

  “I’m only --” Silvan struggled to say, “-- a whore for you.”

  “As you should be.” Though Malaki needed no oxygen, he sounded short of breath, just as if they were human lovers. “My whore. My pet. My student. Mine.”

  “Yours,” Silvan managed, before Malaki parted his ass cheeks with both hands and dove into the crevice, using that clever tongue to rim circles and circles around his puckered hole.

  “Do you like this?” Malaki said against Silvan’s skin. “My beautiful slut, do you enjoy my mouth on you?”

  “You know I do,” Silvan gasped.

  “Here? Do you like it here?” The pointed tip of Malaki’s tongue poked into Silvan’s hole, long enough to reach the spongy lump that gave him so much pleasure -- only a brush, but enough to make him writhe and yell.

  “Yes! Fuck, yes, I like you there!” he shouted. “More, please, more. Hells, Malaki, please, more.”

  “Mmm.” Malaki hummed against Silvan’s ass. He withdrew his tongue and slid one finger into Silvan’s hole, rubbing the gland he’d found before. Silvan all but screamed as that talented finger massaged him from the inside, twisting and rubbing and driving him out of his mind. The fit was snug, but deliciously so. Still close to a virgin, Silvan was tight every time, he knew, and a prize because of it. And oh, gods, but how he loved it when Malaki ate him out -- fingered him -- did anything to him! The vampire must have bent his head again, for Silvan felt the tickle of his dark hair and then the sting of sharp teeth on sensitive inner skin. The sensation made him yell and see stars. He heard Malaki chuckle, sounding far too pleased with himself.

  Malaki withdrew, and momentarily Silvan heard the vampire wrestling with his own pants. Also leather, they were simpler, without the lacing to run up both sides. He could undo the groin fastening and skin them off down his hips with some frustration at the slowness of peeling leather, but at greater speed. Silvan listened, cock throbbing for some sort of touch, aching for release, to the sounds of Malaki preparing himself.

  They’d carried nothing to ease the way, but Silvan knew Malaki would take care of him. He liked his sex raw and rough, anyway. The vampire’s impatient fingers, wet with saliva, stretched him wide and his own body relaxed well enough to open up and welcome in any intruder. By the time Silvan felt Malaki’s cock pressing at his entrance, he was all but ready to beg for the sex. No one could fuck him like Malaki could, and he’d never want anyone to, either. Vampires did not bond easily, especially with demons, but they were in this strange life together, for good and for always. Not just because of the sex, even though that was fan-fucking-tastic, but because there was genuine affection between them.

  Right then, though, Silvan was concentrating on the sex. And what sex!

  Malaki thrust in, hard, making Silvan yell out in bliss. He never understood why more men weren’t gay, when fucking up the ass felt this damned good. It’d been his idea to teach some of the vampire women how to anally pleasure their mates, and he might have made a good bit of coin with his lessons, if they hadn’t had to run first. Perhaps when they reached their new home…

  But to hell with lessons! He’d think about them later. At the moment, all that mattered was Malaki’s cock slamming in and out of his ass, tight and cool, the path soon made slicker by the other vampire’s stream of pre-come. Malaki had his talents; Silvan cried out when Malaki managed to shove a hand beneath him and began to squeeze his own cock in a rhythm that matched the beating his ass was taking.

  When Silvan couldn’t hold off any longer, he cried out in warning. Malaki’s fingers raked down his back, making furrows even through his shirt, and he made a loud, strangled sound as he lost control himself. Silvan felt his jets of come from the inside and spasmed again, spurting still more seed onto the rocks.

  They hung together, shaking hard, for a long minute, and then Malaki let out a deep, unneeded breath. He drew out of Silvan’s ass with a wet sound, then flopped onto his side next to Silvan, reaching out a lazy hand to caress him. Silvan made a small, contented sound and curled into the touch, savoring this brief moment of afterglow. He knew it wouldn’t last long.

  “You,” Malaki murmured, “are amazing. You take and take, always so freshly tight, and you let me bend you like a rubber toy without complaint. I’ve lived a long time, Silvan, but no one’s ever taken care of me like you do.”

  Silvan sighed in contentment. “I live for you,” he said. “Or rather, I exist for you, and you alone.”

  “Mmm.”

  “I wish we could stay here forever.”

  “We’d be caught,” Malaki warned. “We don’t dare.”

  Neither moved. Not for a long moment. Silvan cherished every second that they lay together, certain each moment would be the last.

  Finally, although he seemed to regret not staying longer, Malaki stood up with a grunt and a groan of a man who’d been resting on rocks poking him in rough places, offering Silvan a hand. As for Silvan, he had to stand naked and begin the long process of re-lacing his pants, all while Malaki grinned and watched him with a hungry gleam in his eye.

  “When we get to our new home,” Malaki promised, “you and I will fuck all night long.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Silvan said, slipping the last lace into place and tying a square knot. “But for now, we hurry?”

  “We hurry,” Malaki said, taking Silvan’s hand and beginning to step forward. In doing so, he tripped against a large stone, his vampire strength sending it off-balance and down the hill. Both men froze as they heard a large, vicious rumbling begin when the small boulder hit bottom.

  They had no gods to take their names in vain, not really, but Malaki cursed in the old vampire language before reaching out to grab Silvan. “Hide!” he roared. “Find shelter!”

  His warni
ng did no good. “Oh, shit!” was all Silvan had time to say before the avalanche hit, and all they both knew was darkness.

  * * *

  Malaki dreamed of stillness, and woke to find he had lost all sense of reality.

  The world had gone away. Darkness and silence were all he could feel, but it shouldn’t be… there ought to be sounds -- the rushing of words against his ears, the stomp and click of heavy-shod feet marching down busy streets, the heaviness of humans, meat on legs, breathing. Even the echoes. Where had the echoes gone?

  He couldn’t open his eyes, but it was so black behind the lids he figured there must not have been any light to see. He knew -- he remembered -- that light existed once. Lying there in the dark, he knew it felt strange for some reason, but he realized he missed it. Everything from reflected moonlight to the rush lights in a dirty pub.

  He thought he should speak… say something… make words… even if just to see if he was deaf, but they wouldn’t come. His tongue lay thick and still and dry in his mouth, refusing to move at his command.

  He wanted to protest by flailing out his fists, but his arms and legs only flinched a little, twitching with muscle spasms. His stomach, already empty and upset, roiled in protest. It was all too much, much too much, but he didn’t know why.

  His mouth shook and opened soundlessly. His teeth were sharp, the movement hurt, and it put him in mind of newborn kittens. Cats, fuck! He hated cats. That much he knew. Sneaking, creeping creatures. Always looking at a man sideways as if they knew much more than he did. Women loved them. He loved men.

  So. He was remembering some things after all. That brought him a measure of comfort.

  Without any warning, something warm and damp touched his face, dabbing gently. He startled, straining to open his eyelids. A cat! No… no… not rough enough. Who? What? How?

  He didn’t know. But all the same, it felt strangely good. When it went on for a few minutes, and his skin began to feel better, less stiff and scratchy, he relaxed into the cleansing.