Page 28 of Caller of Crows
Altair moved his finger, feeling the way the muscles clamped down around it, and then slowly pushed in another finger. Sven's muscles clamped down again, and this time, Altair felt a bit of pain mixed with the fear.
"Breathe," he murmured, and Sven did. "You're so tight."
Sven flushed and tried to turn his head away, but Altair caught his chin.
"Look at me," he ordered.
Sven nodded, and he watched Sven's expression as he kept moving his fingers, slowly, feeling the way Sven's muscles relaxed, opening up.
"Is it too much?"
"No," Sven whispered, closing his eyes and then opening them again to meet Altair's gaze. "Keep going."
Altair obeyed, curling his fingers and searching. A moment later, Sven moaned and arched his back, his muscles clenching down on Altair's fingers.
"There," Sven gasped, and then Altair moved his fingers once more. He wanted to take his time, but the scent of Sven's need was an almost physical thing, and Altair couldn't resist it. He needed to feel Sven beneath him, his ass around his cock, his moans in his ears.
He pulled his fingers free and spread Sven's legs, spreading the lube over his erection. He pressed the head of his cock against Sven's ass, feeling the resistance, and then
Sven gasped, and his mind was a flurry of thoughts—lust, need, fear, pleasure—all mixing together as they did when Altair fed on him. Sven's ass clamped down around him, and the sound he made was nearly enough to push Altair over the edge.
"More," Sven begged. "Please."
Altair slid his hands under Sven's knees, lifting his legs and pressing them against his chest as he leaned down, his gaze locked on Sven's face. The angle opened Sven up to him, and the sight of him lying beneath him, exposed, sent a jolt of arousal through him.
This mortal was his.
His to fuck, to claim, to drink from.
And he could do any of those things, whenever he wanted.
Altair shifted, pressing himself inside Sven more, and the mortal let out a little groan, his hips arching off the bed.
"You like that?" Altair growled, his voice harsh as he pushed himself deeper into Sven, feeling the way the muscles around his cock clenched and then relaxed.
"Yes," Sven groaned, meeting his gaze.
For the first time since they'd met, he looked completely unafraid.
It was an image that seared itself into Altair's mind, making himwantthis mortal like he had never wanted anything since becoming a vampire.
He pulled back and then thrust in once more, a growl escaping his lips as he felt the rush of pleasure and lust from Sven's mind. He picked up his pace, thrusting into him over and over, angling to hit his prostate every time, until Sven was crying out beneath him, his body trembling.
Sven's mind was a chaotic jumble of lust and desire, thoughts of Altair's cock, Altair's mouth, Altair's fangs, Altair's hands all spinning around each other until they were indistinguishable from one another.
"F-fuck…" Sven gasped, and Altair felt the muscles in his ass tighten around him as he came, spilling his seed over both their stomachs.
The sight of him, his orgasm, the feeling of Sven's muscles clamping down on his cock was too much for Altair, and he lost control of himself. He slammed into Sven, again and again, the sound of his skin hitting Sven's echoing in the room, punctuated by his own deep growls.
Finally, he pulled back, his cock sliding out of Sven with a wet sound, and his fangs bared themselves. He pulled Sven's head to the side, exposing his throat, and then he bit down.
Sven's blood flooded his mouth, and the taste of him made Altair's cock throb. He bit deeper, trying to drink as much as he could. He had a feeling that it wouldn't be enough, that this mortal's blood would haunt him until he'd taken everything he could get, but he didn't care. He needed to feel this mortal, taste him, possess him.
And when he was finally done, he pulled back and wrapped his hand around his own cock, pumping himself until his orgasm hit him. His seed sprayed across Sven's belly and chest, mixing with the cum that was already there.
"Fuck," Sven whispered, his voice barely audible.
Altair slumped to the side, pressing his lips against Sven's shoulder, his fangs retracting. His breath was ragged, his heart beating in his chest as if he were just as mortal as the man beside him.
