relishing the feel of your throbbing channel as those delicious contractions mirrored your peak. My own cock ached to be inside you.
Watching you unravel was its own aphrodisiac. I only needed a few rough tugs to bring about my own climax. It was sudden, flooding my senses in a deluge of pleasure that robbed me of my breath and clouded my vision.
When the last tremor of bliss faded away, I opened my eyes to find you staring back at me with unflinching intensity, two bright points in an otherwise tumultuous sea. A smile broke across your face. A revelation.
I collapsed at your side and drew you close so that I could feel your heart beating against my own. My fingers tangled absently in your hair as your breath ghosted my skin. You had the scent of one freshly conquered.
“There is a strait between my islands where the sirens sing,” I said. “Where ships have wrecked and men have died, caught between the mercurial sea and its rocky shores.” I didn’t know why that thought had sprung to mind, except that I felt as helpless as a sailor with you in my arms.
“Am I the siren?” you asked quietly.
“And the rocks. And the sea. And the tempest that comes on suddenly, then breaks again into blue skies.” I grasped your hand and kissed your knuckles.
“Does this mean you’re coming with me?” you said. Your bladed eyes, cunning as they were, couldn’t mask your fear. You were terrified that I might say, no.
You were my homeland and my reason for war. My devotion to you was eternal.
“I’ll follow you anywhere.”
27
Vincent
“We need to remove your tracker,” you told me with a grave look.
“How fortuitous there’s a doctor in the house,” Lucian piped up, clearly delighted at the prospect of a little impromptu surgery.
Which was how I ended up straddling the back of the wooden chair. It was reclined, so I was bent forward at a 45-degree angle. Lucian crowded behind me while you mapped out where you thought the tracker was embedded. Yours and Lucian’s fingers pressed against my spine, but neither of you could detect any ridges or lumps.
“Is it here…” Lucian pressed two fingers to the nape of my neck. “Or here?” He slid an inch or two lower.
“I’m not sure.” You grumbled in frustration. “I wasn’t there when they had it implanted.”
And it wasn’t as if we could call up my parents to ask them. That would be like waving a huge red flag.
“I’d hate to be wrong,” Lucian said but when I glanced back, he flashed me a toothy grin. “I could simply make one nice, long cut.” He dragged one finger down the length of my spine, and I tensed from the contact.
“Lucian,” you snapped. “Don’t make it worse for him.”
“I’m fine,” I said, not wanting to look weak in front of our long-lost and possibly sadistic brother.
“Henri doesn’t want me to mar this lovely, youngblood skin,” Lucian said in a low purr. “But some of my former patients have found the experience quite exhilarating.”
He gave that last word a few extra syllables.
“Just do it,” I said through clenched teeth. “Drawing it out is only making it worse.”
“And we’re running out of time.” That was Seneser’s input from where he sat on the sectional sofa, still bound at his wrists and ankles.
Lucian assembled his tools—scalpel, tweezers, some kind of suctioning device that resembled a curved straw, and a terrifying hook. Despite all the blood we’d ingested, I felt a little woozy.
“Do you have any anesthetic or a numbing topical cream?” you asked Lucian.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Under the heat of your glare he added, “All I have is cocaine.”
“Are you high right now?” I asked.
“Lucky for you. I work better when I’m high.”
Lucian told you to stand in front of me so I could lean my head against your hip. Your hand raked through my hair and palmed the back of my scalp. It was a huge comfort, even though the more practical reason was so that you could hold my head still while Lucian knifed me.
“I still think I’d do a better job with my teeth,” Lucian said as he lifted the scalpel and twirled it between his fingers.
“Get on with it,” you said. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“This might be my only opportunity to lay hands on our pretty little brother, since you’re so bad at sharing.”
You literally growled at him, and I’d bet you bared your teeth as well. My face flushed when