Page 72 of Caller of Crows
Altair didn't reply, and his silence was louder than words could have ever been.
Sven's heart beat faster. "Pretend all you want," he said, "But I don't need to be a mind reader to know you're full of shit."
Altair turned away from him and toward the door. "This conversation is over."
Sven's temper flared, hot and furious, but his anger didn't manage to overpower the fear growing inside of him. Fear, and the bitter taste of loss at the back of his tongue.
"Fuck that." He rushed after the vampire, catching up with him at the door. "Fuck that!" He shoved at the vampire's shoulder with all his might, which was not very mighty. Altair didn't stumble, barely moved, but there was something satisfying about seeing the emotion flare in his eyes anyway.
Good, Sven thought, feeling angry and out of control. Let Altair be upset. Let him realize he couldn't run from Sven's emotions—or his own.
"What are you doing?" Altair growled, glaring daggers, but Sven didn't budge.
Instead, he rose onto his tiptoes, grabbed two fistfuls of the vampire's shirt and pulled him closer, smashing their mouths together.
He didn't care how unreasonable this was. Didn't even care about the blood on the vampire's shirt between them. Right now, he just needed something—anything—to get him out of his head.
He needed release. He needed Altair because Altair was the only one who could make him feel anything even remotely pleasant these days, and if he let the vampire get away, he knew he'd regret it.
Heknew.
And so he kissed Altair like he meant it, hungrily, fiercely, biting at the vampire's lower lip the way the vampire usually bit athim.
Surprisingly, it worked.
Altair grabbed him and whirled around with him so fast he got dizzy, slamming him into the wall by the door. The vampire pressed up against him, and Sven could feel Altair's fangs against his lips when they kissed, sharp and dangerous and promising pleasure instead of pain. Sven groaned, winding his fingers into Altair's hair and keeping him close as the vampire claimed his mouth.
Yes.
There was no tenderness this time, but Sven didn't mind. He could sense Altair's hunger, his anger, his need for closeness and physical connection. Sven matched it. He wanted to erase all distance between them, to make them into one single entity.
Right now, nothing else mattered. Nothing. Just this, the push and pull of their mouths, the slide of Altair's tongue against his own. The scrape of his fanged teeth and the taste of iron in Sven's mouth. The possessive pressure of Altair's firm body pressed him against the wall as the vampire gripped him with his strong hands, trapping Sven in place.
Sven's heart thundered. Excitement flooded through him, chased by desire, leaving no room for any lingering sadness. He wrapped his legs around Altair's waist and gasped into the vampire's mouth as the movement made him fully aware of Altair's erection pushing up against his own hardness. Fuck, yes. That was what he wanted. He wanted Altair to pound into him, to make him forget himself, to send him spiraling over the edge and into ecstasy. He wanted to forget all the pain that made it so hard to breathe, and only remember the way the vampire's mouth moved against his own as he took what he wanted with no apology.
He wound his fingers into the collar of Altair's shirt, holding tight. He'd lost so much already, he wasn't going to let this slip through his fingers, too.
"Please," he whispered, pulling back, and licked the taste of his own blood off his lips. "Please." He was breathing too fast, but he couldn't help it, he couldn't calm down, not when he felt so out of his mind. "Don't leave me alone, not right now."
Altair looked at him, his face flushed with lust, his eyes flashing as he met Sven's gaze. For a moment, Sven worried the vampire would deny him, and then what?
He didn't have to be concerned, though, because Altair grabbed him and dragged him back to the bed, tearing his clothing off in his haste. "Mine," he growled, and Sven nodded, too turned on to think of anything except how much he wanted the vampire.
Altair was on top of him in moments, pinning him down on the mattress, ravishing his mouth once more. He kissed along Sven's jaw, then down his throat, scraping his fangs over the fragile skin. Sven knew how easy it would be for Altair to tear into his neck and bleed him dry, and he shouldn't have been excited by that, but he was, fuck, he so was.
Altair flipped him onto his stomach effortlessly, shoving him into the mattress with a rough hand in between his shoulder blades, and Sven arched into the touch. He'd never realized how much he would like being pushed around and ordered about. Maybe it was just that it was Altair. Perhaps if any other vampire had captured him, he wouldn't be reacting like this.
Perhaps his obsession with Altair was entirely unique.
As the vampire pressed his tongue to his ass, licking him open, Sven groaned and rocked his hips down into the mattress, but Altair immediately lifted him higher and stopped him from touching his cock to anything. He bit at the globes of Sven's ass and the flesh of his inner thighs, making him gasp. Fuck, he wanted to touch himself so badly.
Altair did that for him, eventually, snaking a hand underneath him to grasp Sven's aching dick and stroke him. His grip was perfect. Too tight, too dry, but exactly what Sven needed to send sparks up and down his spine.
"Hurry up," Sven bit out, feeling like he might actually pass out if Altair kept on teasing him.
The vampire chuckled darkly and opened the lube. Sven buried his head in the sheets to muffle the cry of relief that escaped him as two wet fingers pushed into his ass. Altair's fingers were relentless, and it burned when the vampire opened him up, but the burn was a welcome distraction from the memories that threatened at the edge of his consciousness.
His body clenched instinctively as grief and anger bubbled up inside him.
