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Mayhem:Federal Paranormal Agency 7(12)

By:Olivia Black


A delicate breeze touched his cheek, and Emmett inhaled the smell of  freshly mowed lawn. He pulled the curtains back and stared outside. He  was greeted by lush green grass. Moss hung from giant oaks, swaying  delicately in the breeze.

"How are you feeling?" Dylan asked.

Emmett spun around. He spotted Dylan leaning casually on the threshold  of the bedroom door. Relief flooded through his system like a tsunami,  and Emmett smiled. He couldn't believe how happy he was to see the other  man. Dylan was important. Something about this man called to Emmett on a  deep level, telling him that Dylan belonged to him. It felt as though a  silver cord was wrapped around his waist, tying him to Dylan.

In that moment, he wanted to shout, Mine! You are mine! Instead, Emmett said, "Thank you for saving my life."

"You don't need to thank me." Dylan stepped into the bedroom and closed  the door behind him. "There are a few things we should talk about, but I  need you to remain calm."

"Okay." Emmett drew out the word, his brows drawing together in confusion.

"There's a mirror in the bathroom. I want you to go have look."

Emmett didn't understand why Dylan was acting so weird. He appeared  anxious, which was strange considering the vampire usually kept a calm  facade up at all times.

Emmett dragged his feet across the carpet, the fibers brushing along every nerve ending. He was more sensitive than ever.

When he reached the bathroom and spotted his refection in the mirror,  Emmett came to an abrupt stop. He stared at the mirror. It was him, but  his image seemed to be slightly altered. He looked different-inhumanly  perfect and flawless. His eyes caught him completely off guard though.  The vibrant globes were now a mixture of various green tones, the colors  swirling together.

Vampire. Emmett didn't even need to ask. He knew. Dylan had changed him into a vampire.

"My God," he whispered. Glancing down at his body, Emmett had to admit  he was impressed. His muscles were outlined, his physique perfect. The  love handles he'd always hated were gone. "How is this possible?" Emmett  asked, turning around to face Dylan.         

     



 

"Do you remember the explosion?" Dylan asked.

He nodded. "I remember bits and pieces."

"There was a bomb planted on your car. We had just stepped out of the  warehouse after questioning Thaamir Yassin, and it went off. You were  seriously injured, and I knew you weren't going to make it to a  hospital. I gave you my blood hoping that it would be enough to save  your life, but it wasn't. You were on the brink of death. And, now,  you're a vampire."

A cramp tore through Emmett's gut, and he almost doubled over in pain.  His whole body ached. His canine teeth lengthened and sharpened, cutting  his tongue. The taste of blood filled his mouth. He thought it might  gross him out, but it didn't. He was thirsty. Jerking backward, he moved  away from Dylan as panic started to set in. Something was wrong with  him.

"It's okay," Dylan told him. "You're hungry. You need to feed."

Emmett covered his mouth with his hand. He didn't know what to do, and he had to admit that he was a little scared.

"Let's take a seat." He gestured to the sitting area by the fireplace. "We can talk, and I can show you how to feed."

Emmett walked past Dylan. He made his way over to the couch and dropped down.

"You're a newly turned vampire," he continued. "You don't know how to  live in the human world as a paranormal, but I'm going to teach you.  There's no reason that you can't remain an FBI agent here in New  Orleans. You won't need to make any drastic changes. You have new speed,  strength, and power. We can talk more, later. Right now, you're hungry  for my blood."

Hungry? That was an understatement. He was starving. His body was sore,  his skin itchy. His stomach gurgled and growled. His teeth, which had  miraculously disappeared only moments before, shot out with a vengeance,  causing him to hiss.

Sitting down beside him on the couch, Dylan exposed his neck. He lifted a  finger, and the nail grew, becoming a claw. He drew a line along his  neck, and blood bubbled at the surface, calling to Emmett like a siren.  Emmett wanted to lick the line of blood dripping down Dylan's  collarbone. The hunger in his belly grew, his eyes zeroing in on Dylan's  pulsing vein. Emmett licked his lips. He wanted to sink his teeth into  the man's neck.

Emmett focused solely on the blood. Nothing else mattered. It was like a  switch in his brain shut off. He inhaled, pulling in the intoxicating  scent that was Dylan-musk and spice and sweetness.

Without thought or control, Emmett jumped on top of Dylan, straddling  his waist. He grabbed ahold of the collar of Dylan's shirt. The scent of  his blood made his fangs sharpen further. With his mouth open, teeth  sharp, he leaned forward and punctured the vein in Dylan's neck. The  first taste on his tongue made him moan in bliss. The thick blood coated  his mouth and slid down his throat, rejuvenating and strengthening him.  When it hit his stomach, the hunger pains slowly start to dissipate.

Closing his eyes, Emmett groaned and sucked harder.





Chapter Eleven




Emmett's teeth sank into Dylan's vein like a warm knife slicing through  butter. Dylan's cock hardened instantly. On the first pull, he  shuddered. It felt as if Emmett's mouth was connected directly to the  head of his shaft instead of his neck. As he fed, Dylan slowly lost his  mind. When Emmett began moving his hips, rubbing his naked body against  him, Dylan sank his claws into the couch cushions to prevent himself  from moving.

Dylan had known the temptation his blood would have. He saw the way  Emmett's eyes glazed over and how his beautiful globes had dilated until  the black void all but swallowed the surrounding green of the iris. The  hunger controlled Emmett, and it was a beautiful thing to experience  with his True Match.

Emmett hummed against his skin, sweet little moans that drove Dylan  wild, but nothing could compare to Emmett's movements. Emmett's cock  pressed against his hard shaft. If he were naked, Dylan knew they would  be fucking. A strong climax built, tingling at the base of his spine. He  was close to the edge.

His hand moved, quicker than expected, and before Dylan's brain,  sluggish with arousal, could catch up, Emmett wrapped his hand around  Dylan's shaft. Dylan groaned as the man's fingers curled around his  cock, cool and firm, against his overheated flesh. Emmett slid his hand  down to the base then back up to the tip, milking him with firm strokes.  When he reached the end of the shaft, Emmett slid his thumb over the  tip and flicked the sensitive bundle of nerves under the glans with his  nail.

"Ahhh!" Every muscle in his body strained. "Yes, suck me! Oh God. It  feels like my cock is going to explode." He groaned, shoving his hips  upward. "Fuck, yes!"         

     



 

Emmett moaned. He moved on Dylan, humping him.

"I can't stop … I'm gonna … oh God … " Dylan threw back his head and yelled,  bellowing out his pleasure as he came, shooting hot jets of spunk.

Panting heavily, Dylan grabbed hold of Emmett. He needed to stop his  True Match from taking too much blood. The man was gorging himself,  feeding as if he were starving.

"Emmett." He placed one hand around the man's throat, gently applying  pressure. "It's time to stop, Flowers." Dylan tried to gently coax his  True Match. When the man didn't stop, Dylan tightened his grip.  "Enough!"

Emmett removed his teeth. He pulled back and stared down at Dylan,  licking his lips as if he were a delicious treat. A stray drop of blood  slipped down Emmett's chin, and Dylan wiped it away with his thumb. His  eyes were blazing, the swirls of green shining bright. Graphic images of  the two of them together, writhing naked, flashed through his mind.

"I need you," Emmett moaned.

Dylan was off the couch and on the bed within seconds. He took possession of Emmett's lips, staking a claim.

Emmett wrapped his arms around Dylan's neck. He opened his mouth,  welcoming Dylan's tongue. The two kissed, tongues twirling and dancing.  The kiss was wild and passionate, each man fighting for dominance. The  heavy scent of arousal hung in the air, floating off Emmett. Dylan could  barely control himself. It was a relief to know that Emmett was no  longer human. He didn't have to be careful. He didn't have to show  restraint.

Emmett tugged at his clothing, ripping his white T-shirt to shreds before attacking his sweatpants. "I need you now."

"I need you, too, Flowers." A sense of urgency drove him, propelling him forward.

Dylan jerked back. He reached over and opened the top drawer on the side  table, grabbing a bottle of lubricant. Dylan lay back down, facing  Emmett. Flicking the lid open with his thumb, Dylan coated his fingers  with the silky substance. He moved closer and pulled Emmett back into  his arms. Emmett automatically lifted his leg, throwing it over Dylan's  hip. Using a single digit, he circled Emmett's hole, massaging the skin  before slowly pressing the finger into Emmett's puckered entrance.