[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, vampires, werewolves, HEA]
Anderson Collins was kidnapped by a band of mercenaries hired by the vampires. They want to send a message for all the men his friend killed. He never thought he would be rescued by a vampire, or that he would be an assassin formerly employed by the very vampires out for revenge. Noir Fenrir is officially done taking orders. His former employers tried to kill him, so he will make sure they don't get what they want. Unfortunately, he didn't get away before he was poisoned. He needs a healer, and the handsome human he saved knows where he can find one. But Anderson is no human. He's a werewolf, and things get complicated when he mates with Noir. Despite the fact that they have every reason to distrust each other, they have to rely on each other in order to survive, and it would be difficult for any mated couple to not fall in love with those odds.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Marcy Jacks is a Siren-exclusive author.
“So you just decided to help out of the goodness of your heart?” Anderson asked, not believing that for a second, and then something else clicked in his head. “Why would they even take me? I’m nothing. I can’t even take care of the dogs, and on my good days I can only feed the animals on the farm. The little animals, too.”
“Because of your knee?”
Anderson hadn’t thought it was that obvious. Maybe he’d walked with a bit of a limp and a master assassin would have noticed it. “Yeah,” he admitted, his face heating up.
Noir nodded. “You were to simply be a message from the vampires to your village. A warning. Others would have come, and likely they still will, but the Fenrir house is still expecting a prisoner of some kind to arrive soon.”
Anderson shivered at the calm and collected way that husky voice said those awful words. He wondered if Noir was purposely talking like this to scare him.
“What would they have done to me?” he asked.
Noir shrugged. “I don’t know. They might’ve kept you as a blood slave. They might’ve cut off some of your fingers, or maybe even a larger appendage. Maybe they would have sold you a few times to earn back the money they lost when they paid for their assassins.”
The fact that he’d mentioned that Anderson could have been sold more than once told him just what the vampires would have been selling him as.
Vampires weren’t just into the blood trade. Human trafficking was also a big factor in their wealth. There were always the vampires overseas who wanted nice, healthy humans to drink from and fuck.
How close he’d come to never seeing the people of his village again suddenly hit him hard, and despite how Noir seemed to care nothing at all for all of this, regardless of his help, Anderson found himself coming to stand closer to the man, feeling more protected the nearer he stood.
“I will take you back to your village. Where are you from?” Noir asked.
He really shouldn’t tell him. This could be a trap. Something designed for Anderson to lead a vampire straight into his village.
Then again, clearly the men he killed had already known where it was, and if Noir was lying and still working for a nest of vampires who wanted some fresh humans in their cellars, then he could have questioned the men before killing them. Or even taken them.
He hadn’t. He hadn’t taken them because he was the only one there, and one man, vampire or not, did not have the power to force that many humans to follow him.
So Anderson told him where he was from and the village name just in case he’d heard of it.
It was a long shot, but surprisingly, Noir knew the place.
“The West Village? The place where Hawke lives?”
Anderson was shocked that the man had known about it, but even more so that he knew Hawke.
Hawke didn’t run the village. His father did while he went out hunting and killing vampires with that unnatural stamina he had.
Anderson nodded. “Then, it’s safe for you to take me back?”
Noir made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a cynical snort. “I would hardly say that. I respect Hawke as a warrior, though. He has honor and is very brave. I assume he is still taking care of Will?”
Suddenly, Anderson knew why Noir’s name tickled the nerves of a forgotten memory in his brain. “You were part of the group that attacked my village,” he said, stepping away.
“Yes, and all of my men were killed in the attack,” Noir said, scowling at him. “We thought it was a rescue mission, but Will made it clear to me that he wished to stay, and I did not want to enslave him to the family I worked for.”
Anderson stopped moving backward, but he didn’t stop staring at Noir.
“So, you’re a good vampire then, right? If you know Hawke and you both have an understanding. Kind of.”
“I’m as good as I will ever be, human,” Noir said, and suddenly he was looking at Anderson with a whole lot of interest. “I will be good enough to tell you that I am sorry for what I am about to do to you, since I know humans tend to not like this being forced on them.”
Anderson didn’t get the chance to run or scream before he was caught up in Noir’s arms. The man had a grip like a vise on his shoulder and the back of his head, his fingers gripping Anderson’s hair so tightly he thought the vampire was trying to pull it out.
Then he was frozen in fear as he looked up into those mismatched eyes, but there was no malice there, only a sort of worrisome regret.
His voice was soft and apologetic. Anderson had heard that some vampires had the power of hypnosis, and until now he’d always assumed that to be an old wives’ tale. He was sure getting sucked into those eyes now, and the warmth of Noir’s breath on his face, and his mouth so close, like they were about to kiss, made Anderson hold completely still.
“I need the strength to heal if I am to take you home, and I need to replenish the blood I lost as well.”
Anderson gasped as he felt Noir’s lips, surprisingly soft and pliant despite the scar, press an openmouthed kiss to the side of his neck, and then he grunted with the pain of the bite.
Anderson was hard, and he moaned low and long, his hips thrusting against Noir’s hand as he gently squeezed his palm around the shaft.
Anderson was gripping him now like he was a lifeline. His fingers dug into the back of Noir’s scalp, and when Noir opened his eyes, he noted that Anderson had his tightly shut.
Well, he was still grateful that the man was touching him, let alone they were about to take this even further. If Anderson didn’t want to look at him while they fucked, then he would not hold it against the other man.
He didn’t want to, but Noir pulled his mouth away from Anderson’s, inadvertently making a light smacking sound as their lips parted. “Your knee,” he said, looking down at the joint. “How should we do this?”
He was ashamed to admit to himself that there was a rather large part of him that was terrified that simply asking a question like that would make Anderson think about just why he should not be doing this, rather than why he should, but Anderson had no second thoughts.
“I guess on my side. It’s already starting to hurt again kneeling like this, but you did a good job of making me forget about it.”
His lewd smile as he thrust again into Noir’s hand went straight to his cock, and he moaned, wanting so much to get Anderson out of those damned pants.
“This really is not becoming of me. I usually have more control than this,” Noir said. It got increasingly hotter as he pulled himself out of his heat-resistant clothing, but just like he assured Anderson before, he did not catch fire, and whatever discomfort he felt against his skin was more than worth it to watch Anderson lie back and shimmy out of the last of his clothing.
“That means I’m good at making you lose control?” the other man asked.
“You are a wretched little tease. Do you know that?”
“You’re the first person to ever say that to me, actually.”
That made Noir pause for one second while he was in the act of going through his pockets. He smiled back at the other man, attempting to convey just how much fun he was going to have with his body with just a look. “Good. See to it that it stays that way.”
He finally found what he was searching for in another one of the pockets along the leg of his pants, and then folded them neatly back up before handing them to Anderson.
“Put those under your head.”
“We’re using your clothes as a pillow?” Anderson asked, but did as he was told anyway.
Noir just couldn’t bear the thought of dirtying that lovely hair the man had. “We don’t have to roll around like complete animals. We’ll need cleaning afterward, but this way you won’t have to press your face into the ground.”
“There’s nothing in the pockets that I can stab myself with, though, is there? You do carry around a lot of pointy things.”
“Yes, and they are all right there.” Noir pointed to the small pile of blades and darts and other items he’d pulled from his pockets while searching for the right vial. He was pleased that Anderson had still thought to ask him about his weapons, however, even if Noir had already removed them.
It proved the man was capable of thinking through certain situations, and he would not need his hand to be held during the rest of their journey.
“Oh,” Anderson said, and then shifted onto his side, resting his head on the makeshift pillow Noir had given him. Then he suddenly looked up and took note of the vial that Noir had. His smile was a catty one. “You carry lube around with you?”
Noir rolled his eyes. “This is a gel for first aid. It seals small- to medium-sized cuts and scrapes and prevents infection.”
“Then why do you look like you’re getting ready to put it in my ass?”
Noir smiled and took hold of Anderson’s hand, placing some of the gel onto his fingers. “This is why. It’s slick.”
Anderson rubbed his fingers together and then grinned back up at him. “I guess you wouldn’t have gotten far in your career choice if you didn’t think of extra uses for all your toys.”
He had that right, not like it mattered how far Noir had climbed the ladder of assassins in the end, anyway.
“Lift your leg a bit. Good, now relax,” Noir said.
He helped to keep Anderson’s leg off the ground just enough so that he had better access to his asshole. It was entirely unfair how that part of him was beautiful as well. Every inch of the man was exquisite, and yet he walked around and talked like he didn’t know that.
Either way, Noir wasn’t about to press his luck on the issue. He brought his fingers to Anderson’s pucker and pressed a slick finger inside.
The man naturally tightened up against the intrusion, and the entire time Noir kept an eye on his face, searching for any signs of discomfort.
There were none, and soon enough Anderson sighed and his body relaxed, allowing Noir to push his finger into him up to his knuckle.
Noir added a second, and his dick and balls pulsed with impatience at how tight the man was. “I cannot wait to be inside you, filling you, coming in you,” he said.
“Yeah,” Anderson agreed, and then he pushed back against the fingers that were stretching him.
Noir wouldn’t put his cock inside that tight heat just yet. He desperately wanted to, but he would die before he ever allowed anyone to think he was an inconsiderate lover. He may be ugly, but he knew how to please his partners in bed, and part of that involved finding the prostate before getting down to anything else.
He pushed his fingers farther inside, scissoring them and stretching while he searched.
To his credit, Anderson was being patient with him. Sort of. “That’s nice,” he moaned, and his fingers gripped the grass, pulling out some of the blades as he searched for something to hang onto. “Fuck me, please.”