Bailey Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (16 page)

“I’m not letting you suck my cock, Caleb. Now get up.”

Dutifully, he got to his feet. “Do you wish to feed?”

McBride knew he should say no, but he was ravenous. If he didn’t take Caleb’s offered neck, he was going to have to call one of his brothers in from the field. Reaching out, McBride stroked the scar on Caleb’s neck. Had his father’s companion actually drunk from Caleb? There was something infuriating about the idea of another sipping from him. McBride wanted to be the only man who’d ever drunk from the angry giant. But he didn’t ask. He couldn’t let Caleb know how he felt about him.

Closing his eyes, Caleb tilted his head and pulled his still-damp hair aside.

Stepping into him, McBride’s teeth extended, but he didn’t want to rush. With the other brothers he was always perfunctory about his blood needs. He was kind, but slightly mechanical, because he felt it was somehow wrong for them to belong exclusively to him. But with Caleb, all he felt was a burning need. His longing to stretch out the moment must have been obvious to Caleb, and perhaps that was what had truly prompted his rebellion. Caleb knew McBride preferred him. That emboldened him to see how far he could push the rules before McBride had to punish him.

“You know I will keep my word if you harm Ferris?”

“I know. I swear to you, I will not harm him. I will be good—well, as good as I can—and await my perfect companion.”

McBride breathed out against his neck again, loving the involuntary shiver that galvanized Caleb’s massive body. His cock was hard again, rubbing against McBride’s through his trousers. Teasing along the scar with his breath and lips made Caleb whimper ever so slightly. McBride grinned. Maybe the way to make him more submissive was to taunt him daily with blood draws. The other brothers would certainly notice, but perhaps he could say it was part of Caleb’s punishment. Besides, his brothers would need time to build up their blood with their new mates. If he were careful and clever, McBride could do what he was thinking of.

He shook his head, moving slightly back from Caleb. It wasn’t illegal, not totally, but it wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had. The more he made his drinking time special with Caleb, the closer he came to skirting that dangerous line between blood drinking and bloodbonding. Was that what had happened to his father? Had he felt guilty for wanting his slammers so he turned his companion on them then drank from him to keep himself separated?

“Please don’t stop.”

McBride was going to do just that. He’d call one of the others in and feed. But he never had a chance. Before he realized what was happening, Caleb cupped McBride’s face, pulled him close, and kissed him.

Caleb’s lips were indeed plush. They gave way easily against McBride’s. When Caleb opened his mouth, McBride swirled his tongue against his, loving the taste of him, the invading power of his kiss. And then Caleb flicked his tongue against the sharp tip of McBride’s canine tooth. Blood poured into McBride’s mouth. Salty, sweet, rich, and thick, Caleb’s blood was so delicious McBride sucked hungrily at his tongue.

Even knowing what he was doing was wrong couldn’t stop him. McBride wrapped his arms around Caleb, pulling him close then sliding his hands down to his buttocks. Firm and powerful, they flexed against his palms as he rammed his hips forward.

Caleb let out another seductive whimper that pushed all of McBride’s alpha buttons. All his plans, fears, longings—everything—fled from McBride’s attention. Right now he wanted to feed and fuck. It was all he could think of. His balls had ached for days. Time after time he’d had to put his personal needs on the back burner because of his job and responsibilities. Hungry for release, McBride didn’t allow himself to think about what he was doing. He kept sucking on Caleb’s tongue as he worked his trousers apart.

Eager to help, Caleb shoved his hand between their bodies and wrenched his fly so hard he probably broke the zipper. McBride didn’t care. Into his capable hand, Caleb took McBride’s cock.

A moan of bliss made their mouths come apart for a split second, but Caleb moved in close and cut his tongue against the other tooth. More blood poured into McBride’s mouth. Up and down the length of his aching cock, Caleb stroked his callused hand. As much as McBride wanted to palm Caleb, he didn’t. He’d already gone too far to turn back, but he didn’t want to compound his error.

What pushed McBride over the edge was when Caleb pressed their pricks together and then encased them with his mighty fist. Each stroke drove them closer to madness. Each press of his flesh seemed to bind McBride a little tighter. Each sip of his blood grew richer as he got closer to release.

In an explosion of pleasure, McBride climaxed. He felt Caleb smile against his mouth, so he tugged harder on his tongue, making him utter a truncated cry of surrender. Caleb climaxed, jetting against McBride’s prick, wrenching another spurt of pleasure from him before they finally stopped.

Breathless, shaking, and utterly released from his blood and sexual lusts, McBride pressed his forehead against Caleb’s. McBride realized that no matter what he said or did from this point on, he’d already crossed the first line with Caleb.

THE END

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Reading, writing, and white-water rafting are the three things Anitra Lynn McLeod enjoys the most. You can visit her at www.AnitraMcLeod.com.

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