Summary: Cassie walks in on Mircea and Pritkin in a compromising position.
A/N1: This one-shot is set briefly after the events of Curse the Dawn. Unfortunately it has not been beta'd so all mistakes are absolutely and completely my own.
The following contains EXPLICIT SLASH (yes, I went there) and is purely lemony goodness. You know it's wrong (and yet so very right)! If boy on boy is not your thing, DO NOT READ any further. Seriously, don't. But if it is . . .
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Cassie Palmer Series, Karen Chance does. I just wanted to take the boys out for a test drive.
Cassie POV
It had been another one of those really, really long, arduous days and I was just happy to be back in Mircea's suite at Dante's. I had to admit, Casanova had done a magnificent job of fixing the place up after the not so little blow out between Saunders' mages and the vamps. I wondered if Mircea had given the incubus some pointers considering the suite had a distinct resemblance to his now destroyed living quarters back at MAGIC. Probably not, Mircea preferred simple elegance over opulent crudeness.
I was more than ready to take a nice long bath, maybe read a bit and then pass out. Hell, I'd have even been happy with simply passing out and forgoing the rest.
Sadly, my life would never be that easy.
Walking through the corridor leading to the bedroom that I was currently sharing with Mircea, I noticed random pieces of clothing scattered about, making a path towards our room. I lifted the first of the offending garments off the hardwood floor and inspected it, fingering the men's Armani black silk dress shirt, which I made a mental note, had more than a few buttons missing. It was definitely one of Mircea's though, and he was usually no slob and rarely left his things lying about. I picked the second article of clothing up and nearly tripped on a holster, shocked at what I held in my hand: a black leather jacket. Pritkin's to be exact. Okay . . . things were getting a bit strange.
I managed to untangle my feet from what was beyond a doubt the psychotic mage's shoulder holster to immediately get tangled back up again in what were undeniably Mircea's black trousers.
Perhaps if I had strained my ears further I would have been more prepared for the scene before me as I ungracefully stumbled through the open bedroom door.
I slapped a hand across my mouth to stifle a gasp and staggered back behind the door-frame which had previously shielded the rest of the room from my view; including the bed.
Well, at least they're not fighting, I noted.
As long as I lived I would never be able to forget the image of Mircea on his knees, dominant body thrusting into Pritkin's powerful yet pliant one. It should never have happened in a million years, it should have been impossible, wrong even. These men nearly hated each other (or so I'd thought they did). Yet it was so, so . . . erotic. So very right. The way the corded muscles of Pritkin's thighs and calves would flex on every one of Mircea's delicious invasions into his body. Or the way Mircea's glutes would clench on each of his upward thrusts into Pritkin's yielding form. It was feral. Raw, even.
I was amazed that neither had been made aware of my presence, what with their ubersensitive senses, my not so discreet gasp, and well even my breathing which was now coming in heavy pants. I suppose they were too occupied with better things and they never even took their lustful eyes off the other for a second, enraptured by what they were participating in. I'd never been a voyeur, but I couldn't bring myself to tear my eyes away from this sexually raw scene, nor could I interrupt their carnal embrace.
I had time to briefly wonder if Pritkin's half-incubus self could feed off vampires, but then sounds of grunting, groaning and panting filled the enclosure and I forgot how to think altogether.
One thrust in particular had both men moaning and arching their backs; Mircea gripping Pritkin's hips until his knuckles turned white while the mage balled his fists into the sheets and buried his face into a fluffy white pillow beside him, exposing that long, elegant column of his neck. The same neck that I had always wanted to lick, suck and bite. I guess Mircea had the same brilliant idea as he leaned forward, bringing their entwined bodies as close together as humanly possible while he nipped at the sensitive skin of Pritkin's neck. The mage released one of his fists from his death grip on the comforter to score his nails down Mircea's back. His hands left angry red marks in their wake, following the path of the vampire's spine down into the crevice of his buttocks.
Mircea assumed his original position – on his knees – while Pritkin trailed the same hand in between their merging bodies. The angle from which I stood did not allow me to see where that hand went, but I could certainly hear how Mircea responded – with a gasp and a harsh thrust – as the mage's hand reached its final destination. In order to return the favor, Mircea wrapped his large, masculine hand around Pritkin's impressive and straining erection, pumping in time with his increasingly frantic, yet uncomprehendingly sensual movements. I was enthralled by the way the vampire's biceps would tense and release as he smoothed his palm down Pritkin's thick arousal or the way Pritkin's eyes would roll to the back of his head on particularly forceful down strokes.
I watched, fascinated as the muscles of the mage's taut belly strained and his strong hands grasped my vampire behind his neck with his free hand, yanking him down for one of his signature open mouthed kisses. Hot and hard. In the dim light of the room I could make out beads of perspiration trickling down the depressions of Pritkin's sculpted abdominals. Distinct moisture pooled between my legs and I tried desperately to rub my thighs together to create some semblance of friction.
Is it hot in here, or is that just me? I thought as both men let out simultaneous sinfully delicious groans, all their muscles straining towards the other, searching for completion.
Their movements sped up; hips thrusting in synchronicity, hands fiercely caressing the other's most intimate parts, until finally, my vampire leaned forward and slid his fangs deep into the flesh around Pritkin's nipple. They came simultaneously in a collection of spasms, groans and sighs. Their bodies, once rigid and hard, relaxed while they both took pleasure in the aftershocks.
I nearly fainted as Mircea brought his fingers, covered in the evidence of Pritkin's release, to his mouth and sucked them clean. He leaned forward and laved at the mage's nipple in order to heal the tiny wounds then raised his head to lay a sensual kiss on his partner's mouth.
And then, as two sets of eyes, one emerald green the other electric gold, rested their heated and mirthful gazes upon me, the whole world went black.
~*~*~
I woke up not exactly sure where I was, I just knew that I was comfy as hell and hadn't felt this well rested in oh . . . as long as I could remember. I perceived a weight on the side of the bed and carefully opened my eyes, not wanting to shatter my peaceful state.
"Morning, dulceaţă," purred the voice of smooth honey.
"Morning?" I croaked. The last time I'd checked it had been somewhere around ten o'clock at night.
"Yes, it is nearly dawn. You must have been very exhausted last night."
That seemed true; I couldn't even remember how I got to the bed. Or how I'd gotten naked, I noticed as the warmth of the soft cotton sheets brushed against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. Mircea must have recognized the confused look on my face because he added, "I found you asleep on the couch in the living room and carried you to bed."
"Okay . . ." I said, not really believing him. There was definitely something I was forgetting. And even though he looked completely sincere, I knew better. Vampires were amazing liars.
Mircea smoothed my hair back from my face as he planted a sweet kiss on my forehead, and then got up to presumably get ready for the dawn. I turned over to my side, trying to put the pieces of my missing night back together, even though thinking hurt just a little.
And then I saw it . . . Pritkin's favorite handgun, a Walther P99, resting on the bedside table. And it all came rushing back.
Oh. My. God.
La Fin
A/N2: Hope you liked my first attempt at FF in a long while. Thanks for reading! *hugs*
Reviews are like kisses from a certain smoldering sexy mage and a hot Romanian vampire!