Ice man, p.1
Ice Man, page 1
Book 1 in the Blood Slaves series.
Feeding and sex go hand in hand when you’re a blood slave to a vampire. It’s like a drug and Rowan is hooked. With the vampire Theron, Rowan has never wanted for more than his next fix. Until he meets Brett. Brett is hot, the sex is incredible—and he’s human.
Brett is looking for kinky sex when he goes to the Catacombs, an exclusive fetish club for men. Flair bartender Rowan, also known as Ice Man, is sexy and mysterious. Brett isn’t ready to complicate his life with a lover outside the Catacombs and Rowan isn’t interested in club-scene sex, but coming together and giving in never felt so good.
Rowan’s dark secret could destroy everything. He must never allow Brett to learn of his symbiotic relationship with the vampire. He has to choose—tell Brett the truth or remain a blood slave. Either way, he can only hope Brett will trust in love enough to forgive him.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Ice Man Copyright © 2009 KyAnn Waters
Edited by Pamela Campbell
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication November 2009
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
D.L. and O.C.—thank you for being a phone call away whenever I needed you. Thank you for that little shove when I really deserved a kick in the ass. You are the best and I’m so grateful for your friendship, your advice and your ability to listen to me drone on endlessly.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Audi TTS Coupe: Audi A.G. Corporation
BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft
Jack Daniel’s: Jack Daniel’s Properties, Inc.
Kahlua: The Kahlua Company Corp.
Mini Cooper: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft
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Blood surged into his cock. Cool mist bathed his warm flesh and sent shivers down his spine. Drugging euphoria clouded his mind and his limbs grew heavy. He felt as if he melted into the bed beneath him. Some said the pleasure of feeding was like the high of a hallucinogenic drug. Pulsing erotic energy thrummed through his body. Scorching heat raged through his veins. Soaring higher, his cock grew longer—harder. He not only offered the blood in his veins but also his aroused body. Maybe feeding was a drug. Without will to refuse, he’d certainly become an addict.
Whispered voices surrounded him. Hands caressed his torso. Faceless touches in the blackened room. His stomach quivered under their seeking hands. Fingers pinched his nipples, twisting until the sting had him moaning. His hips thrust into the blackness. He ached for relief from the delirium of intense pleasure.
Cool breath stirred against his throbbing cock. His essence oozed from the slit and trickled down the length. Moist, cold suction surrounded his cock head.
“Yes,” he hissed through his teeth. His jaw clenched and his back arched off the bed. He needed more. Firm lips worked down his shaft, sucking him deep into the chilled, cavernous depths of his lover’s mouth. Heat pooled in his balls.
Strong fingers circled the base and tightened. Teeth scraped along the length as his faceless lover took more of his cock between those cold, soft lips. His heart pounded. Blood roared through his ears and sweat beaded on his brow. He wet his dry lips with his tongue, anticipating the high.
The cold mouth on his cock continued to slurp him into his throat, sucking him off and grazing him with teeth, just to the point of biting. Another cold tongue swiped his hard, pebbled nipple. The sensation nearly made him come.
Leather straps cinched on his ankles and anchored him to the bed. Although he could still buck against the delicious tongue lashing at his balls and cock. His arms, stretched above his head, were bound to the headboard. He could grasp the wrought iron bars but couldn’t pull free. The bed dipped on the left and another cold tongue traced the seam of his mouth and parted his lips. He was powerless to refuse the invasion. He opened and savored the dark flavor of his unknown master.
The kiss ended. Someone combed his bangs from his face. A tender caress traced the brows over his eyes and cupped his whiskered cheek. Warmth.
Theron. Powerful, dominant. And Rowan Huntington was a slave to him.
“Are you ready?” The familiar voice washed over him. Fear prickled at his thoughts. How many lovers? Quenching Theron’s thirst had built his ability to recover quickly from feeding. Enzymes in vampire saliva worked like a steroid, accelerating the renewal of the blood supply. The more the vampires drank, the more he produced. But three vampires? Maybe more? He would be weak by morning. “Don’t worry.” Fangs pricked his neck. He flinched and Theron pierced his flesh and bit deep.
Like a gossamer veil lifting, Theron entered his thoughts.
A throaty chuckled echoed in his mind. Rowan gasped and muscles throughout his body jerked.
Relax. Theron sucked hard, greedily feasting on the carotid artery in Rowan’s neck.
Spinning, dreaming, he released his hold on the ravaging happening on his body and relished the delirium of hosting. His mind spiraled into a maelstrom of lust and surreal pleasure. Another bite pierced the flesh near his groin. Blood rushed from his femoral artery. The vampire’s large, strong hands gripped Rowan’s leg, nails digging into his flesh as the creature gorged on blood.
Rowan moaned. Another vampire growled and a third mouth latched onto his wrist. Fangs pierced his skin.
The sensations overwhelmed him. Heat scorched his body. His cock oozed and stretched. He was hard, so hard that a touch would have him reaching orgasm.
Even as he weakened, his need to come became more acute.
Fangs slipped from Rowan’s neck and Theron sealed his wounds with a gentle swipe from his tongue.
“Enough. Leave us.”
Rowan couldn’t open his eyes, the effort too herculean. Fangs retracted from his wrist and leg. The warm tongue near his groin rolled over his flesh and flicked along the length of his shaft, lapped the dripping juices. He clenched his teeth and thrust upward. The vampire curled his tongue around the sensitive edge then tasted the slit. The tease wasn’t enough. “Suck it.”
“No.” Theron’s roar had the two other vamps scrambling from the bed.
“We’ll see you upstairs,” one of the vampires said.
The door opened and muted light spilled into room, slashing Theron’s long shadow across the bed. Rowan drew a deep breath. His body was strung tight and his nerves sizzled. The rioting sensations needed release. He needed sex.
Patience. Theron’s voice once again weaved through his erratic thoughts. Tonight I want you for myself.
Rowan relished the possessiveness. “Then release me.” He jerked on the restraints.
His vision blurred as he turned his head. Theron closed the door with a thought and plunged the room into blackness again.
Why would I let you go? You belong to me.
“No, I serve you.” The choice was still his. He submitted because he was powerless to fight the intoxicating euphoria. “But you don’t own me.” However, Theron did own others. In fact, he owned every vampire within his sect. He had sired them all. Now they walked the streets among unsuspecting humans.
“Don’t forget that I know your thoughts.” Theron spoke aloud.
Yes, Theron read the minds of those he sired. A trait that kept the species under control. However, with blood slaves like Rowan, he knew their thoughts only during the Zenith—the time a vampire burned with human warmth, could reach orgasm and experience human sensation. The fleeting phenomenon only lasted for vampires while feeding and during the aftermath. He should say all vampires except Theron. Somehow he’d retained human characteristics.
Theron sat on the bed. Warm breath tickled Rowan’s lips then Theron lowered his face and gave him a drugging kiss. “Any other host, I would have slain.” No one opposed the vampire leader. Rowan had.
“I never led you to believe I’d make the change.” The revelation that he wouldn’t had nearly ended his life anyway. Secrecy was paramount, worth every sacrifice. The history books were full of conjecture concerning the existence of vampires. Most references stemmed from legend and lore, carefully crafted by the surviving seven. The seven Master Vampires controlled their world with precision strategy. After having nearly gone extinct, every decision was orchestrated toward their survival.
“It was my mistake.” Theron spoke with contrition but he had no reason to feel guilt or remorse.
“I’m content to serve you without having to become vampire.”
“Yet I can’t help wanting you.” Theron’s fingertip trailed along Rowan’s sternum, circling the flat, hardened nipple.
Rowan tugged on his arms. “Release me so I can show you how much I want you too.”
But you still aren’t content. Perhaps I’m not enough for you.
“You have more than enough. And I want all of it now.” He referred to the size of Theron’s cock, not the context of their relationship. Rowan accepted that emotionally, he’d been bankrupt for a long time. Theron, the vampires—he belonged with them because he didn’t belong anywhere else.
Theron’s hand stilled. “But I want eternity.” I won’t demand it—not from you.
Rowan released a shaky exhale. Theron’s weight shifted on the mattress as he moved to the end of the bed. In the dark, he couldn’t see his long dark brown hair but he felt wisps along his inner thigh.
Nails scratched the outside of his hips. “Perhaps I’ll leave you tethered to my bed.”
Restraints weren’t necessary. Tonight, he wanted to be with Theron. His choice—always.
As you are my choice. No one’s blood is sweeter. No one’s body harder. To prove his point he closed his warm mouth over Rowan’s cock. Rowan’s eyes slid closed. Damn, Theron’s wicked mouth had unmatched skills but he’d been sucked enough. He loved the feel of a smooth moist mouth and talented tongue but he also ached to penetrate, stretching Theron’s hole with the thickness of his shaft. The surge of erotic power that came from knowing he was the life and lust of an ancient vampire. To fuck and be fucked.
Rowan wanted to penetrate then switch positions, leaving the final climax to Theron. He visualized Theron rising over him, a god of sex and pleasure. His hair flowed like a curtain of silk down his back and cascading over his shoulders. His defined pectorals created ripples and curves to touch and taste. A dusting of fine hair formed a thin ribbon over Theron’s washboard abdominals.
Rowan moaned and his balls tightened.
Theron chuckled and pulled his mouth away. I’ll come if you continue to fantasize about fucking me. Right now, I’m more concerned with making you come.
“Then sit on my cock. Take me into your ass and ride me like the slave I am.”
Theron didn’t laugh. He crawled over Rowan’s body and braced his hands on Rowan’s arms. He was big and strong and oozed sexual dominance. Rowan could never overpower the inhuman strength of the vampire but he didn’t feel small and timid beneath him either.
“My slave?” He straddled Rowan’s hips. “There are times when I wonder who serves whom.”
Theron stroked Rowan’s cock. Pressure weighed heavy in his groin and at the same time cream seeped from his slit. Theron milked his cock, stroking him firmly. He wasn’t coming. He couldn’t. Theron’s mental link on Rowan kept him from release, yet liquid continued to seep from his slit. The Master Vampire used the secretions to lubricate his shaft. His slick fingers cupped Rowan’s sac and fondled his balls.
“Is this what you want?” The dark timbre of his voice melted over his flesh. He quivered in expectation. Sliding taut skin over his rigid erection, Theron stroked pleasure into his dick.
“You know what I want. You always have.” But he couldn’t fill the emptiness. Nothing could, not even the high he felt now, after feeding Theron.
Not that he’d call it manipulation but Theron had recognized a void in Rowan. A secret fetish that needed to be filled. In the beginning, Theron had offered The Catacombs—an exclusive club that secretly catered to vampires and their ravenous appetites—as a sanctuary. At the time, he hadn’t realized that a dark need dwelled within him. Lust for a lifestyle developed by his association with Theron. But the club hadn’t appealed. Group, stranger or even partnered public encounters turned him off. Yes, having three vampires sink their teeth into his veins and drain him of thick, rich blood had aroused him. His hard cock and heavy breathing proved he’d been affected. But he was underground, beneath the club, in Theron’s private lair. When it came to sex, Theron had never insisted Rowan participate in the deviant decadence above. Anyone who knew Theron realized how rare that was.
So I’m a hedonist. He grasped Rowan’s cock at the base, positioned his hole over the dripping crown, and lowered.
Blood rushed from his brain. His cock head nudged against Theron’s puckered anus and slipped inside. Heat seared his flesh as Theron sank onto his rod. Lower, taking him all. The vampire growled. He braced his hands on Rowan’s chest, his nails like claws curling into his taut flesh.
Theron’s rim squeezed along his length as he lifted and dropped again. He gripped the bars above his head and endured the sweet agony. Clenching his buttocks, he thrust higher. Theron tightened his thighs to the outside of Rowan’s hips. Gyrating, lifting and slamming back down, he found his rhythm. Rowan’s cock swelled, growing harder and longer.
Theron’s whispers filled his head. He couldn’t resist this high. The melding of minds and bodies. Theron’s hole loosened and the slide deep into his body became more intense—more volatile.
Muscles bunched and burned in his thighs as he absorbed his weight. Rowan thrashed against his bindings. The restraints at his ankles cut into his flesh. He writhed on the bed, gnashing his teeth and fighting his building orgasm. Damn! He bit his tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
Theron roared, his talons digging into Rowan’s flesh. In a flash, he bent forward and thrust his tongue into Rowan’s mouth. He pillaged, greedily sucking on Rowan’s tongue. Fangs nicked his flesh.
Rowan couldn’t speak. Theron was in the Zenith. A fiend for blood and sex. His sphincter contracted on Rowan’s cock as he ate at his mouth. But the position kept T
Release me! Rowan screamed in his mind. Theron hadn’t moved but the restraints loosened and fell away with a mental command from Theron. Rowan banded his arms around his lover. He pulled out and with a surge of testosterone, rolled on the bed, pinning Theron beneath him. Now lying supine, Theron tipped his pelvis and wrapped his legs tightly around Rowan’s hips. He clawed at his back as their tongues slithered together.
Rowan plunged deep. He kissed Theron roughly and dug his knees into the mattress. With the force of a jackhammer, he pounded into Theron’s ass. Theron’s cock pulsed, juices seeping, dripped between them.
Theron bit into his tongue. His body tensed beneath Rowan and his nails raked along his back as he gripped and held him close. With a growl, he erupted. Rowan slammed into Theron’s tightened rim. Theron’s thick, solid erection pulsed. Hot cream spurted between them. Rowan continued to thrust in and rear back, fucking him through his orgasm.
Rowan ripped his mouth away and braced his weight on outstretched arms. Heat raced through his veins and surged into his shaft. His mind numbed and his body convulsed—hard. His balls tightened and he exploded. Ribbons of cum spewed from his shaft into Theron’s ass. He filled him with cream. Waves of pleasure crashed over him. He rode the crest until he finally dropped onto Theron’s chest, drinking in the heavy scent of sex. He was spent, drained, yet euphoric in the aftermath. His cock continued to contract as he slipped from Theron then rolled to his side.
This wasn’t love. This wasn’t a relationship. But they did have a bond.
And I’ll never let you go.
* * * * *
Another busy night and patrons crowded around the counter. Rowan stood behind the bar, flipping bottles and mixing drinks. His hands were steady as he focused on the turns, juggles and flash that brought him excellent tips and inquisitive stares. Blood slaves and vamps mingled with unsuspecting humans. All gay men and all heavy into fetish and the lifestyle. The Catacombs was a pleasure palace to those seeking high kink and anonymity.
by KyAnn Waters have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes