Sex and arousal were swirling around them as effectively as the smoke from the cigar, and then the duke dropped it to the ground, forgotten. His cheeks were flushed, and when Leo looked down his body, a solid erection was outlined in the duke’s pants. It was obvious he was extremely attracted to Alasdair, who was now pressing their bodies firmly against one another. But if there’d been any doubt, the groan Leo heard when Alasdair placed his lips by the duke’s ear dispelled it in an instant. Alasdair hadn’t said anything yet, hadn’t even touched the man, really, but Leo had the distinct impression the duke was ready to come.
Not that I can blame him, Leo thought. Alasdair was a true creature of the night. He made a person want to do things and see things he’d never imagined, and Leo was hard just from watching him.
“I saw you tonight,” he whispered in the duke’s ear. “Watching me.”
The other man swallowed, and Leo wondered if he was nervous due to his arousal or because Alasdair gave off an overwhelming sense of danger. It was probably a heady combination of the two.
Alasdair’s tongue came out then and traced along the man’s jawline, and Leo heard his own breath catch.
“Is this what you were imagining when your eyes were greedily taking in every inch of me?”
The duke pushed his hips forward, making it clear which inches he was most interested in, and when Alasdair shoved him back and ground his hips over the man’s, Leo reached down to palm his own cock.
This was so wrong. He knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Alasdair hummed and the noise seemed to stroke the nerve endings running along the length of Leo’s dick. Because, even though Alasdair wasn’t touching him, Leo felt as though that tongue and the hands now moving down to the duke’s pants were all on him.
“It must get so lonely living in town with the duchess. Especially when you prefer cock over cunt. Does she mind, I wonder? Does she know?”
The sounds of rustling material and heavy breathing were all that could be heard—until Alasdair got ahold of what he was after. The duke’s head fell back against the wall, and he jutted his pelvis out.
“Ahh…yes. It feels good, doesn’t it?” Alasdair cooed as he trailed his eyes over the exposed throat in front of him.
Leo’s eyes followed the same path, and he felt sorry for the man being so superbly manipulated—until he groaned again. Then Leo’s sympathy went out the window, and fierce jealousy shot through him instead. He hadn’t gotten this far with Alasdair, not once, and he was pissed off that he had to stand there and watch this.
“You are by far the most handsome man I have ever seen,” the duke confessed.
A seductive sound that could’ve been taken for humor left Alasdair as he put his lips to the base of the duke’s throat. Then the words, “Ne, I know,“ fell from Alasdair’s mouth. And without any more talk, Alasdair lifted his head and struck like a cobra.
He sank his teeth into the side of the duke’s neck, and a shout of agony came from the man who, only seconds ago, had been groaning for other reasons entirely.
The sound of Alasdair sucking and growling as he pinned the man to the side of the building should’ve appalled him. Leo thought he would have been terrified, but instead, his dick got harder.
He couldn’t explain it, not if anyone had asked, but seeing this side of Alasdair was a hell of a turn on, and he wasn’t sure what that said about him.
Alasdair’s arm started moving, and Leo knew he was still stroking the duke’s shaft as he viciously fed from him. Blood stained the duke’s crisp, white shirt, and his shouts of pain changed to cries of confused pleasure.
Whatever horror had come from that initial bite had now altered into some kind of euphoric bliss. His eyes had rolled back, his hips were fucking against Alasdair, and he was drifting into a sweet, sweet death.
“Leonidas Chapel.”
The unfamiliar voice was like a lightning bolt to his brain. It pulled him from his trancelike state and had him spinning on his heel to see if anyone had followed him outside. But no, no one was there. And when he turned back to where Alasdair and the Duke had been standing, all he saw was darkness.
Leo’s erection subsided as fear of the unknown crept in. “Who’s there? Who are you?”
“Perhaps the question you should be asking is: Who are you?”
A splitting pain shot through his head, and then a flash of Alasdair appeared before his eyes—him and the duke, just as they’d been a second ago.
Then the screams started.
Loud, fearful cries into the night air.
Alasdair clamped a hand over the man’s mouth. The duke twisted and writhed against Alasdair, now realizing his life was coming to an end. Then Alasdair ripped his mouth away from his neck, brought both hands to the Duke’s cheeks, and tore his head right off his shoulders.
Leo gasped at the gruesome action and covered his mouth as his stomach turned. Then the image disappeared.
“He is not what you imagine him to be. You have been shown this for a reason. You, Leonidas Chapel, were created to stop him and his kind. You and two others. We have been waiting for you.”
But before Leo could say a word, he woke up.
Present Day—The Lair
ALASDAIR FOLLOWED BEHIND Eton and Diomêdês, who were carrying Thanos down the east corridor. Vasilios matched his stride step for step and hadn’t said two words to him since his question back in the Hall. The truth was, Alasdair could sense his sire’s volatile mood. He just wasn’t sure what he was most disappointed about.
Leonidas’s being back in the lair?
Isadora’s having been taken?
Or—
Your bringing the human here in the first place, Alasdair. But perhaps we should refer to him by name, since we aren’t quite sure what your young male is.
Alasdair turned to look at his sire, and when he didn’t bother returning his stare, he lowered his eyes.
Oh, yeah. He’s pissed.
Vasilios wasn’t stupid. He would have seen everything he’d been trying to hide when he, Leo, and Thanos had arrived this evening. He’d been too preoccupied with his cousin’s condition to concern himself with concealing his thoughts. So finally, it had all tumbled free.
The first meeting with Leonidas. His strange ability to paralyze him and see his past. The fact that he was now out cold on Alasdair’s bed—
That is all rather interesting information. Don’t you think, Alasdair? Vasilios interjected into his thoughts.
Alasdair’s eyes flew up to meet the knowing ones of his sire.
Did you ever think that this may have been avoided had you told someone? Perhaps I should’ve let Diomêdês at you. It’s the least of what you deserve. Vasilios gave a manic grin, seeming to derive enjoyment from that thought.