Page 73 of Caller of Crows
No. Not those thoughts.
Not here.
He wasn't going to let those images spoil this moment with Altair.
Sven hissed when the head of the vampire's hard length breached him. The thrust of the vampire's cock entering him was relentless and painful. Still, it soothed the ache inside of Sven.
When the vampire sank into him fully, Sven let out a trembling breath and clutched the bedding, trying to calm his pounding heart.
Yes,yes, that was what he needed.
A firm presence inside of him that made everything else disappear.
He closed his eyes when Altair's strong hand grasped his thigh, holding him steady.
Then Altair began to move.
The first snap of his powerful hips sent a shockwave through Sven.
Pleasure rippled through him as the vampire pounded his prostate with each punishing thrust.
Sven moaned loudly, unable to hold his voice back. The pace the vampire set was intense. Fierce. Hot.
And Altair knew just how to angle his hips to make him feel amazing. He covered Sven's body with his own, reaching under him, stroking Sven's length, driving him crazy with pleasure. Sven pushed back, meeting Altair thrust for thrust as the vampire slid into him deep and hard, making his whole body hum with arousal.
Sven was overwhelmed. Overheated. Out of breath. Every nerve in his body tingling.
The pleasure coursing through him was intense. White-hot and exhilarating. His heart raced, his body quivered, and before he knew it, he was crying out, his release slamming into him with the force of a wrecking ball.
It stole his breath and blinded him to the world around them for endless seconds. His toes curled, his balls drawing up. His orgasm spread from the center of him outward, leaving a warm glow in its wake.
Altair followed quickly after, a few thrusts later, spilling his seed into Sven, filling him up with warmth. Sven grunted, burying his face in the pillow again, panting. Fuck, he wasn't gonna be able to walk after this at all.
Altair's weight disappeared from on top of him. He slipped out of Sven's abused hole and laid down next to him on the bed.
Sven stared at him, struggling to catch his breath.
They weren't touching, but they were so close, their faces inches apart. They just looked at each other. Sven didn't know what to say and the vampire remained silent as well, his beautiful dark eyes so very piercing, even though he had to have gotten his fill from Sven.
Sven swallowed, his throat parched.
Finally, he managed to ask a question. "The feather you gave me at the hospital… If I'd used it, would you have come to me? Would you have… helped?"
Altair stared back at him, motionless as stone. It took him long seconds to reply. "Yes."
"Because I'm valuable or because—"
"Because I care about you."
* * *
The words left Altair's lips without his conscious permission, and yet there was not one syllable he felt compelled to take back. It seemed that this mortal, with his warm brown eyes and his wilfulness, had turned him into a fool.
A willing fool, too. How embarrassing.
Still, that did not stop Altair from leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Sven's forehead, or from murmuring against his soft skin, "Please don't use that knowledge against me."
Sven blinked at him as Altair drew back and got out of bed.
