The closest Atticus Drake has ever come to a sexual experience is designing toys for kinky paranormals. Shy and awkward, his forays into physical relationships have never gone past first base. So, when he finds himself mated to the crown prince of the entire vampire race, he's pretty sure it's fate's cruel joke.
Prince Salem Constantine is running out of time. With his one hundredth birthday quickly approaching, he needs to choose a consort if he hopes to become king. Atticus is definitely the mate he's been waiting for, but there's one problem. Atticus isn't a vampire.
The mandates are clear, and Salem needs not only a consort, but a vampire consort. Atticus refuses to turn, and Salem has no intentions of giving up the sexy panther. Can the two find a solution before time runs out? Or will they be forced apart because of the laws governing Salem's world?
“Fantasy Creations. Custom toys made to order. You dream it, we make it reality. This is Atticus. How can I assist you today?”
Atticus scratched at his itchy nose as he cradled the phone between ear and shoulder and opened a new order form on his computer screen.
“My mate just landed a new job as the meteorologist at the local news station. We have a whole trunk of toys, but I want something special.”
They always wanted something special. It was why they called Fantasy Creations. The side project Atticus had started with his friends in college catered exclusively to the paranormal community—who happened to be a rather kinky and adventurous lot. In the two years since they’d officially opened their doors, there had yet to be a request that they couldn’t deliver.
“Okay, we can help you with that. Can I get your name and phone number, sir?”
Back and forth, questions and answers, for nearly twenty minutes, Atticus squeezed every little detail that he could out of Mr. Grisham. Once satisfied that he had all the pieces he needed to make his client’s fantasy come true, he offered his good-bye and gently placed the phone back on its cradle. They really should look into getting wireless headsets. It wasn’t as though they couldn’t afford them.
“Six o’clock,” Cedric sang. “Lock the doors and throw away the keys. We’re free for two whole days!”
It was a little overzealous considering that they usually just gathered at someone’s house and played video games all weekend. While being nerds had resulted in a very lucrative business for the six of them, it didn’t exactly help their social lives.
“Hey, guys,” Thaddeus called from down the hall. “Come check this out. I think I’ve finished it.”
“Do you think it’s the one for that vampire who keeps calling?” Nigel’s blue eyes lit up, and he practically vibrated as he struggled to pull on his jacket. “I’ve got to see that one.” He pushed past Atticus, nearly barreled over Cedric, and was out of sight before either of them could complain or protest.
Moving at a more leisurely pace, Atticus shrugged on his own coat, scratched at his nose again, and motioned for Cedric to follow him down the hall to the workroom—where all the magic happened.
Nigel was already there, of course, bouncing around the group and trying to squeeze between bodies to see what was going on. “Let me in. Dorian, move. Brenner, get out of the way. Thad, I want to see it!”
Chuckling under his breath, Atticus called them to order. “Break it up, guys. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”
Thaddeus beamed from ear to ear as he waved a hand at his invention. “I call it Ring Around the Rosy.”
Atticus recognized a very small dildo and a rather large butt plug, but the rest of it just looked like a jumble of leather straps and chains. “Okay, put it on Jack and let’s see it.”
Working together, Thaddeus, Brenner, and Dorian fastened the contraption onto Jack, their male test dummy—a creation from the perverted mind of Cedric with moveable parts and several open orifices. Just next to it was a female doll, but for some reason, they didn’t get too many orders for women, so there was rarely the occasion to use it.
“Getting the synthetic blood just right was the hardest part,” Thaddeus explained, rising to his feet and gripping the three-inch dildo that hung around Jack’s neck by a leather strap. “See the veins here? There’s actually synthetic blood in there.” He pointed to a workbench on the other side of the room. “We even made up a few bottles so that it can be refilled.”
Then he pushed the flesh-colored dildo into the mannequin’s mouth like a gag and fastened it with straps around Jack’s head. Brenner connected a thin chain to a ring on the back, looping the other end around a hook on the wall behind him.
“The vampire pierces the vein with his fangs to get to the synthetic blood.” Atticus nodded his understanding. “How is he going to refill it with the puncture mark, though? Won’t it just leak out the next time?”
“Got it covered,” Dorian answered with a cocky grin. He pointed to the same workbench at a tiny white bottle. “Just brush that over the puncture, let it dry for about twenty minutes, and it’s good as new.”
“Nice work, guys. Let’s see the rest of it.”
“Our client has some serious kink.” Brenner pushed his unruly blond curls back from his face and knelt in front of their dummy, fastening a platinum-coated, metal cock ring around the base of Jack’s penis.
Two more thin chains connected on either side of the ring, and Brenner draped them over the mannequin’s hips where Thaddeus connected them to the butt plug before pushing the black silicone toy into Jack’s rectum. “The measurements are a little off, of course, but you get the gist.”
Dorian attached a thick leather collar to Jack’s neck then bound his wrists behind his back with a set of leather cuffs, linking the two with the last chain. “Ta-da!”
“What the hell are we supposed to do with him now?” Cedric asked, frowning at the doll. “All his holes are filled, and he can’t move.”
“We just make the product. It’s not our job to question,” Atticus reminded him.
“Besides,” Nigel called to him, “you wouldn’t know what to do with a real man anyway.”
“Like you would,” Cedric shot back.
In reality, none of them would. They were all twenty-four years old, give or take a couple of months, and not one of them had ever been past second base. They lived and breathed sex on a daily basis, but it was all very technical. Throw them into a sexual situation with another person, and they couldn’t find their own dicks with both hands and a flashlight.
“Relax,” Salem crooned to him, stroking his chest and down his right flank. “Slow, remember? Turn that beautiful brain off and just feel.”
Atticus nodded, sucking in a deep breath, holding it for a moment, and then letting it out slowly, forcing himself to relax. “Just nervous, I guess.”
“Understandable.” Salem nibbled at the inside of his thigh and nuzzled his nose against Atticus’s sac. “I’m going to take good care of you, baby.” He lapped at Atticus’s balls, sucking one into his mouth and rolling it around on his tongue.
Atticus knew what was coming, but he was helpless to stop it. When that slippery tongue licked a slow path from base to crown on his throbbing cock, and a slick finger nudged at his hole, Atticus lost his grasp on self-control. With a groan mixed with pleasure and frustration, his dick erupted in a torrent of pearly semen, coating his belly and pooling in his navel.
While Atticus wanted to bury his face in the pillow and hide in shame, Salem was there—just as he always was—to pull him back from the brink with subtle reassurance. “That’s one, Atty.” It had become a running joke for them, and the familiarity went a long way in soothing his abused ego.
A huff of moist air breezed over his face, and Atticus opened his eyes just in time to receive a scorching kiss from his prince. There was nothing soft and coaxing in the mating of their lips. Salem didn’t ask for his submission. He didn’t subtly lead him in the right direction. The pressure on Atticus’s mouth demanded his surrender, and he was all too happy to give it.
From that point on, there was no time for self-consciousness or uncertainties. Salem played him like a fiddle, knowing exactly where, how, and when to touch him. His thick, heavy cock slid over Atticus’s, providing the friction he’d been searching for earlier.
When his head was spinning from lack of oxygen, Salem eased one finger into his fluttering hole, slow and steady, stretching the muscles and stroking inside his channel. There was a slight burn, easily ignored, and when Salem began sawing in and out, Atticus nearly came unglued.
“That’s right, baby. Just like that.” Salem licked at his lips, pulled the bottom one between his teeth, and sucked on it. “Do you want more?” His tongue dipped inside Atticus’s mouth briefly, nothing more than a tease. “Tell me, Atty.”
“Yes! More. Please, Salem.” Holy hell, was that him? Was that his voice that sounded so wanton and needy? Maybe he should tone it down a little.
“Fuck,” Salem groaned. “I love when you beg.”
Or maybe not.
A second finger pushed into his hole and began a steady rhythm designed to torment him. The burn dissipated almost instantly, leaving only a heavy pressure that he was beginning to crave. Already his dick flexed against his belly, his balls rolled inside his tightening sac, and his second climax was barreling down on him.
By the time Salem had three fingers sawing in and out of his clenching tunnel, Atticus was grinding his teeth together, trying every trick in the book to keep his orgasm at bay. He thought of football, baseball, logarithms, and dead puppies. They were all fleeting, and none of them were working, though.
“Please! I can’t…I–I…”
Without a word, Salem extracted his fingers, used the lube to slick his shaft, and positioned the head of his dick at Atticus’s entrance. Their mouths crashed together again, a strong hand gripped the base of his cock, and Salem rocked his hips, pushing just the crown of his length past the guarding muscles.
Inch by inch, Salem slowly sheathed himself to the root, his eyes closed and his body shaking. “Tight, so fucking tight. So hot,” he muttered barely loud enough for Atticus to hear. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to, but he took courage in his mate’s pleasure.
His inner walls stretched and strained to accommodate Salem’s thickness. It hurt, no doubt about it, but not enough to make him want to stop. Why wasn’t Salem moving? Atticus really wanted him to move.
“Okay?” Salem asked, his voice strained, and the muscles in his jaw ticking as he stared down with his amethyst gaze.
Oh! Unable to speak, Atticus nodded and wrapped his legs around Salem’s waist, signaling his readiness. With a look of relief, Salem rocked back, pulling his cock from Atticus’s ass until only the flared head remained. On the next inward glide, the pain lessened, and by the third, it had given way to all-consuming pleasure that rocked him to his core.
“Harder,” he grunted.
“Demanding little thing.” There was a smirk in Salem’s voice, though. He picked up the pace, just a little, surging into Atticus’s body with a control that he couldn’t help but envy.
The mattress beside his head dipped, and he pried his eyelids open to see Salem looming over him, his hand braced on the bed. His other arm looped under Atticus’s knee, lifting his leg and opening him to deeper penetration.
His next thrust hit something inside Atticus that made stars dance in his vision. Arching his neck back on the pillow, he howled in ecstasy, gripping at his mate’s sweat-slicked shoulders, trying to keep himself from coming up off the bed.
“Look at me,” Salem growled, commanding Atticus’s attention. “Right here, baby. Don’t think, don’t fight it, just let go. Let go, Atty.”
Something teetered just beyond his reach, something intense and powerful. He’d had orgasms before, several at Salem’s skilled hands, but none had ever felt like what was currently descending on him. With every hard plunge into his clenching hole the sensation built, sent him climbing higher and higher.
What is your newest release?
Naughty by Design [Sexually Awkward 2] releases on March 24th.
How can we find you on the web?
What publishing house are you with?
Exclusively with Siren Publishing www.sirenpublishing.com