Shadow's Seduction(32)

Did Cas want that bounty? Of course. But he also recalled how he’d felt watching Mirceo fight. So much risk. Exhaling with resignation, he gripped the vampire’s arm, then teleported him to an isolated cave in the northern mountains of Poly.

Cas released him and crossed the dark toward a lantern. As light chased away the gloom, he tried to see the place through Mirceo’s eyes.

The area was spartan and organized with military precision. Trunks of weapons and gear lined one wall. Peat logs lined another. The bed consisted of furs piled atop a raised shelf of rock. Beside the nearby fire pit, smoke stains stretched up to the cavern ceiling.

Outside, the winds howled, whipping the flap of canvas that served as a door. Caspion traced to the flap, peering out. “It’s night, but not late enough.” He returned to sit on a trunk. “We’ll head out in an hour.”

The vampire meandered through the cave. “Was this one of your camps?”

What insights into Cas’s private life could a clever male like Mirceo gain from this visit? “You’re looking at home sweet home.”

“You lived in this dismal little cave for centuries?” The spoiled princeling’s tone was aghast.

“Unlike you, I don’t need much.” Cas was used to little.

“Why did you leave gear here?” The vampire traced to one of the trunks, opening the lid.

“Always good to have a bolt hole.”

Mirceo’s eyes widened at the trunk’s contents. “So many books.” He flipped through a couple.

The vampire had promised Cas that he would read one day. Cas had believed him, studying his ass off to learn. He could even read Demonish.

Would Mirceo notice that Cas had all the titles the prince had once read to him?

If so, Mirceo didn’t remark on it, just closed the trunk. But his mood seemed lighter. “What did you eat?”

“Whatever I could hunt.” Reptilian creatures, mostly.

“And females?” Mirceo dropped down on the sleeping pallet.

How many times had Cas imagined the vampire on those furs, there for his use? For me to dominate and control. To distract himself, he snagged some tinder and a couple of peat logs to build a fire. “Females were scarce.” Cas’s appetite for sex had grown in lockstep with his burgeoning strength, but he’d had few outlets for it. “I was in that outpost tavern for a reason.”

Mirceo’s lips thinned. “I didn’t take you for such an ascetic.”

“All things being equal, I enjoy comforts. But Poly affords few of them.”

“You must’ve really wanted to stay away. From me.”

“Not everything is about you, leechling.” But wasn’t that a huge part of it?

“Then tell me what was this penance was about.”

“I wanted to get stronger and seek my fortunes.” Before he’d left Abaddon, he’d vowed to Bettina: I will do anything—anything—so that I may never know defeat like that again. “I promised myself I would stay until I’d accumulated a certain amount of wealth and kills. Those goals took me five centuries to achieve.”

Glancing to the right of Cas, Mirceo asked, “Did you think of me?”

Some minutes less than others. “Perhaps on occasion.” Cas hadn’t comprehended how much he would crave the simple companionship of their relationship until he’d lost it. Always, he’d missed his best friend.

But at night, alone in this cave, he’d found his thoughts turning . . . darker.

Aside from masturbating to the memory of their kiss, he’d conjured up filthy fantasies about Mirceo. Cas would stroke himself to a bone-melting release, yelling with equal parts pleasure and frustration.

He recalled the last one he’d indulged in here.

Cas unlacing his breeches and ordering Mirceo to suck . . . the prince’s gray eyes dancing as he dropped to his knees . . . using the vampire’s hot mouth . . . giving Mirceo his cum . . . the vampire taking his due and biting Cas’s cock. . . .

That fantasy had made him culminate so hard his back had bowed.

Cas tugged his coat down to conceal his raging hard-on. Gods almighty. Filthy.

“Only on occasion, demon?” Mirceo’s words ripped Cas from his memories. “At least one of us can lie. I’ll bet you thought of me and fondled your mouthwatering member on these very furs.” Mirceo skimmed his fingers through the top one, his pale vampire skin stark against silken black.

Mercy. Those deft fingers had encircled Cas’s shaft mere nights ago, forcing it against Mirceo’s own. That semen-slicked clutch . . .

“How long will you deny I’m yours?” Mirceo asked. “You saw your pre-cum. You know it’s for me.”