“At least you can keep fucking until then. No end in sight for your cockstands.”
Cas countered, “At least you know what it’s like to spill seed.” A male demon could orgasm before he claimed his fated one, but he couldn’t release semen until he lost his demon seal inside his mate’s body. “Why are you so against monogamy?”
“My predatory nature makes me forever pursue new conquests. Would you track prey you’d already captured? Would a hunter stalk a boar he’d already felled?” Mirceo sighed. “Once my heart stops, it won’t matter anyway. But until then, I intend to fuck like a madman, sampling every wicked delight available to a vampire with more gold than time and less wisdom than daring.”
Must be nice.
“Join me, sweetheart. My treat. We’ll journey the worlds, sharing wenches and drink. I’ll take you to bacchanalia that will make tonight’s affair appear tame. I’ll introduce you to gods, and we’ll wallow in meaningless hedonism.”
After Cas’s last two months, that sounded so bloody tempting. If the spoiled prince wanted to pay, maybe Cas should simply enjoy. But first he’d get one thing clear. . . . “If you think to seduce me, it won’t happen. I will never desire another male.”
Holding Cas’s gaze, he said, “Around me, you won’t ever do anything you don’t wish.” The vampire leaned in closer. “Isn’t that the essence of hedonism? Partaking of all the things you want and none of the things you don’t?”
Cas couldn’t seem to look away. Up this close, he spied a ring of black encircling Mirceo’s irises. Mesmerizing . . . “So why me? Any number of these beings would leap at the offer you just made.”
The vampire’s lips curved. “What you do with a partner’s body can only be considered art. Young demon, consider me a patron of the arts. . . .”
THREE
“Our time grows nigh, Caspion,” the prince told him in a grave tone.
He and Cas sat atop the tower of a suspension bridge in the mortal world. Hundreds of feet above the water, they gazed out at the shroud of fog. As usual, they each had a flask.
“But it’s only been a few weeks.” As promised, the vampire had opened Cas’s eyes to a dazzling new world, taking him everywhere from erotic balls to sordid dungeons, while plying him with the finest delicacies and drink. “What’s the rush?”
They’d packed three months of living into these three weeks, rarely sleeping, becoming inseparable. They matched appetites and predilections—for the most part, at least. Mirceo would bed a male as readily as a female. Had no preference.
Cas pointed out, “Your heart’s still beating.” Occasionally. “There are still pleasures to be had.” Even nonsexual ones.
After nights spent fighting drunken brawls and plowing earthy courtesans, Cas and Mirceo talked into the day, telling each other secrets. . . .
Mirceo: “I’m a Dacian. I come from the hidden Realm of Blood and Mist.” Supposedly an actual myth, Dacians were said to be stronger, faster, and more ruthless than other vampires. “I’m the head of the castle guard, but I’ve little responsibility because the black-stone fortress lies empty without a king.”
Cas: “I was a street orphan with no idea who my parents were.” Shame had prevented him from revealing his past as a lowly beggar, but he’d admitted, “Though I taught myself to read basic words from bounty postings, I’ve never even attempted a book.”
After that, the vampire had begun reading to him each morning. Cas enjoyed those soothing lulls far more than the revelry. . . .
Now the prince sighed. “I miss my sister and my home. Plus there is the matter of crowning a new king.”
The crazed one? Gods help them.
Mirceo peered at Cas. “Will you miss me when I go?” The vampire’s gray eyes matched the fog ghosting over the water. Like that mist, Mirceo had seeped under Cas’s skin, into his very bones.
“You know I will.” Cas was happier than he’d ever been. Despite their fundamental differences, their personalities had meshed in an effortless ebb and flow. “My instincts are telling me to keep you close.”
Only one thing marred their time together. He wished Mirceo would quit using his seductive powers on him. All vampires possessed that supernatural allure, but Mirceo’s was nearly irresistible. Their bond needed no such distraction.
Mirceo turned to take in the surreal scene. “I have a theory as to why we feel so connected.”
So did Cas. He believed fate had given him the foundation for what would become a legendary friendship—in order to make up for all the things Cas had lacked: parents, a home, food. His earliest memory was of clutching his stomach against hunger pangs. “Tell me your theory.”