Miles stiffened, not by choice, but from pain. The aches were a reminder of the limited time he had left. He breathed in and then out. The air burned as it filled his lungs and hurt as it left his body. The pain reminded him that he existed, trapped inside a body that barely moved, but he was still alive.
The dream lingered in his mind, an impossible dream with a body lighter than air. He flew, glided through the sky. A strong hand held his hand. No longer heavy as a sack of flour, he soared like a bird. His eyes watered at the loss of something that was never real.
“Are you in pain?”
The voice, deep and masculine, belonged in a fantasy, not reality. No one sounded that good. He shivered, imagining words spoken to him as hands touched his body. The familiarity of the sound confused him. The voice reverberated through his soul. The sound couldn’t have been forgotten. Slowly, he opened his eyes, afraid no one would be by his side. He looked around the room.
A man stood hovering above him. The voice didn’t do him justice. He was sex on two legs with strong arms that could break him into tiny pieces, which he wouldn’t have minded if it meant those hands touched his body. Their eyes locked onto each other. He looked deep into eyes darker than night that held mystery and danger, but a good danger. Not the death and torture kind, but the kind that would have him begging for more.
He shivered as power radiated from the tall, dark, and sexy stranger. It leaked into the room and wrapped around his weak body. Energy filled him. This man always got what he wanted. “No” wasn’t in his vocabulary. Miles wanted to move toward him, but the inhuman gaze peered deep into his soul. He couldn’t move. His toes curled in excitement. For the first time in a long time, he felt alive. Miles wanted to bare his body and open his heart.
A knowing smirk formed on the stranger’s face. Confidence radiated off of him. He read Miles like an open book. That didn’t bother him, but games needed time to be played. Instead, he wanted to help turn the pages of his life.
Dark eyes examined every inch of his body. He shivered not from the cold, but the burning sensation from his head down to his toes.
He was everything Miles dreamed of packaged into a scrumptious body, a fantasy too wonderful to be real. The sadness hit him at once. A tear slid down his cheek. This wasn’t real. Knowing that he existed in the world gave him hope that something good was out there, but if he wasn’t real, then that meant he only existed within his mind. The loss of such perfection hurt. He wanted this man to exist.
A large, strong hand reached out. Fingers gently moved down his cheek and wiped away the tear. The feel of the cold hand against his skin put Miles on edge. Not from pain, not from discomfort, but from wanton need. Lots of people had touched him. From nurses and doctors that jabbed him with needles or stuck tubes down his throat, but this was different. This touch turned dreams into reality.
“I’m dreaming.” The words were said in a daze.
“Do you often dream of people?”
The voice spoke directly to his soul. It was commanding and demanded an answer.
“I dream of flying and being healthy. Dreaming of someone as sexy as you is beyond me. It’s far too much for my imagination.” He looked up. “I could never conjure up someone as perfect as you. I must be dreaming.”
The man’s lips arched up into a smile. “No, this isn’t a dream.”
That didn’t seem right, but he believed the words.
“What does it mean to die?”
The question surprised him. No one asked about death. Everyone pretended that he would get better. Even now, they wanted him to plan for the future.
“I’ve always been dying.” Miles shook his head. “Everyone is dying, not just me, but I’ve always known each year I live is a”—he created air quotes with his fingers—“miracle.”
He sighed. The question led to a taboo subject that no one wanted to discuss. “I don’t want to die, but I’ve accepted it. My heart won’t beat much longer.” The eyes that stared at him held knowledge and power. This man had seen and done a lot of things. He shivered before continuing. “I can’t imagine not being sick or not being in pain. My life has always been hanging by a thin thread just waiting for someone to cut it.”
The dark-haired stranger leaned over him. Frightening power oozed off of him, wrapping Miles into a protective bubble. The strength seeped into him. He felt like leaping from the bed and running around the room. He tried to lean forward, but it was too hard. A hand pressed against his shoulder gently pushing him back down.
The area the man touched was on fire. Even though the fingers were cold, they lit a flame within him.
A voice from the other room stopped him. The crisp tone belonged to Jack. He turned toward the sound. A hunger needed to be satisfied. His body longed for Jack’s touch. He touched his lips. Their only kiss penetrated his thoughts. The energy had sizzled between them. There had been a promise of more. His stomach ached with need and want.
Jack’s voice called to him, stronger than before. He licked his lips. Jack needed to be closer, touching him. The connection was like a string connecting them. It pulled him toward the other man, the desire and need impossible to resist. The pull couldn’t be ignored.
As he opened the door, the light from the lamps hit his face. He hissed at the brightness and squinted. There were other people in the room. He backed up. Jack moved closer. He stood in between him and the others.
“Who is that?” a man that looked like Jack asked, but Miles knew the truth. Appearances couldn’t sway his heart. This man might look like Jack, but he would never mistake him for the other.
“Stay away from him.” Jack lifted an arm out. His nails grew.
Miles shivered. The tension in the room continued to build, but he didn’t care. He started ripping at the back of Jack’s shirt. Jack pushed him into the wall. He whimpered and his teeth pushed out. He tried to bite. Jack’s grip tightened. He melted under Jack’s touch. His body craved more. The uncontrollable lust mixed with hunger drove him crazy.
“Not now, Miles,” Jack ordered.
He whimpered and groaned. The need to be touched tore through him.
“Jack, help him,” the man that looked like Jack ordered.
“Eric, what’s going on?” the blond-haired man asked.
“He is starving. Jack turned him from human to vampire. Now he needs to be fed and—”
“Not now, Eric,” Jack said, cutting off the man that looked like him. He turned to look at the other two men in the room.
Jack’s neck was exposed and Miles licked his lips. He tried to lean forward, but Jack was too strong.
“Stop, Miles,” Jack ordered.
His eyes started to darken. He was losing the ability to see. His mind saw red. If he didn’t get what he wanted, he’d lose his fragile grip on reality.
Jack’s eyes widened. “Both of you get out,” he said with a growl.
“Jack, what’s going on?” someone asked, but Miles was too far gone to care who said it.
“I’m going to claim my mate,” Jack said with a hiss. “Now get out.”
The words did something to the two other men, as they hurried from the room.
When the door closed, Jack pinned him to the wall, ripping off the hospital gown. He leaned forward and bit into Jack’s neck. He tasted the blood. It ran down his throat. The hunger started to disappear, replaced with a burning need that tore through him. His cock pressed painfully between their bodies.
Jack pressed their lips together. The kiss was possessive and demanded his surrender, which Miles relented to under Jack’s powerful hold. He savored the warmth from their bodies. He was no longer ice cold. As his cock hardened, his body heated. He moaned when Jack pulled away. The fire in his eyes matched the fire building in Miles’s groin.
Jack growled than turned him around. He stood naked in the room with his chest pressed against the door. His cock was trapped between his body and the wooden door.
Jack’s fingers ran down his back.
“What do you want?”
Miles pressed his cheek into the door. With one eye he looked at Jack. Bloodred eyes gazed hungrily at him.
“You,” Miles said. His voice sounded harsh and frustrated, nothing like it normally did, but it was the first word spoken since his death.
Jack opened the door and pushed him toward the bed.
“Get on top. Lie on your back and spread your legs.”
Miles hurried to obey the order. Jack slipped out of his shirt. He focused on the strong fingers that unbuttoned and then unzipped the black dress pants. He licked his lips as the pants slid down. A hard erect cock that was both fat and long bounced upward.
His eyes bulged at the size. His own cock was normal, not massive like Jack’s. He squeezed his ass cheeks together both longing to feel Jack’s hard cock pushing into him and afraid that he wouldn’t spread wide enough to take it.
Jack walked along the side of the bed. He pulled open the top drawer, then reached inside and pulled out a bottle of oil.
Miles moaned. He started to sit up.
“Stay down,” Jack ordered.
Miles shivered, opening his legs wider to invite Jack in. Every part of him wanted to be consumed. He needed Jack.
“If we do this, there’s no going back. You will be mine.”