This is when Adriano searches out his vampire lover Lars for their wicked play. A little bondage, a little blood-letting, Adriano and Lars feed their hungers like no others can.
Will one night be enough to sate them?
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~Excerpt~
The sun had been down for a good while, the pink of the sky gone a still, heavy velvet, when Adriano went looking, bare feet making barely a sound on the wood plank floor. The sound of the ocean came to him through the French doors, soothing him like a lover’s touch, calming him just enough to give him patience when he found Lars exactly where he thought he might. In the tiny library, reading some dusty tome.
Sighing, he bent, fingers trailing down Lars' cheek to tilt the sharp-jawed face up for a kiss, breaking the connection between man and words. Those eyes, as blue as the Mediterranean at noon, blinked at him, dark eyelashes tipped with the slightest hint of gold. "Adriano."
"Good evening, love. I have waited too long for you to surface this evening, hmm?" He had to smile, the momentary confusion on Lars' face too amusing.
"Ancient Hebrew. Quite fascinating really, when compared to middle English." The dull gold of his hair echoed the pages with their age.
Stunning, his Lars. Truly stunning. Adriano watched his tanned hand, square thumb and long fingers, as it closed around Lars' lean, long throat, admiring the contrast before bending for another kiss. He opened Lars' mouth with his, tongue running along the lower lip, soft and wet.
"I prefer other entertainments. Indulge me?"
"In all things." Slowly that focus turned to him, heavy and intense, heady.
"Excellent." He held out a hand, backing off to allow Lars to rise and follow him, the dust from the books making the air seem otherworldly, making his nose itch. Not in the library. Never there. That place, if nowhere else upon the Earth, was Lars' sanctuary, and Adriano would never violate that trust. They moved through the house, Lars' hand sitting firmly in his. Trusting. Understanding his need.
They wandered more than walked up the winding stairs, the air seeming heavier as they moved deep inside their home, the need thick between them. At the top of the landing he turned left, not right toward their bedroom. What he longed for could not be found in their soft and luxurious bed. Not tonight.
Still Lars followed, at his heels until they stopped in the darkened room at the end of the hall, and Adriano turned for another light touch of lips, to breathe in the sweetness of Lars' very breath.
"Strip, lovely."
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