Excerpt Sunday - Daring Adam (MMM) Taking Chances book 1

Darien brushed his fingers over Zephyr’s cheek before tangling it in the man’s hair and pulling him closer, bringing their mouths together. The incubus’s lips opened under his and their tongues touched. Zephyr moaned and sucked on the vampire’s tongue, asking for more, and Darien gave it to him. He tasted, nibbled, teased, until he had the incubus melt in his arms. Only then did he pull back.

“You’ve said something about a break?”

“Hmm. Yes.” The incubus jumped back and threw the towel he had tucked in his waistband back on the bar.

“Jules, I’m taking my ten,” Zephyr shot over his shoulder to the redhead that worked the other side of the bar, before skirting round the counter, grabbing the vampire’s hand, and dragging him to his office.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Darien had him pinned against the wall, their mouths locked together in a savage kiss. His hands flew to the incubus’s fly and had the buttons open in no time. He sneaked one in and rubbed the fat cock inside, groaning. Damn, the little sprite wasn’t wearing any underwear. The vampire brushed his lips over his lover’s throat and Zephyr’s head lolled backwards, eyes closed. 

Darien’s mouth found one of the incubus’s nipples and latched onto it, tongue teasing the ring attached to it. Zephyr moaned, and his hands tangled in the vampire’s hair, gently urging his head lower down his body. Heeding the silent request, Darien dropped to his knees. He latched his hands under the waistband of his lover’s pants and, with a powerful tug, had them around Zephyr’s ankles. They’d been intimate for so long, Darien knew exactly what his lover liked. He placed his hands on the incubus’s ass cheeks to keep him steady as he sank down onto the dick in front of him, taking it to the root in one swift motion. Zephyr’s hand tightened in the vampire’s hair and his back arched, trying to push his cock deeper in the wet heat enveloping it.

Sunday Excerpt

And oldie but a goodie: Perfect Timing

In spite of the carefree face he was showing the world, Valentin Alekseev felt bone tired. Cold and hurting, but above all tired. Too many nights out in the rain, each of them a year’s worth of pain and misery. The exhaustion, the blood loss, and the hunger had taken their toll on him and he was already running on fumes, his strength and will to live almost gone. He was still fleeing, still fighting for his life, but the moment when he would no longer care what happened to him was closing in.

So many towns and faces had passed before his eyes in the last few weeks, he’d lost track of them. They all mingled, becoming but a blur in his mind. None of them mattered anyway. Humans, all weak and fragile and oh-so-shallow, nothing more than a meal or a quick fuck, simply means to pass the long hours of eternity.

Once, he would have taken his time indulging in all the pleasures mankind had to offer. Vice, in all its sizes and shapes, was no stranger to him, and while his tastes leaned toward pretty boys with tight asses, in his three hundred years he learned to take pleasure everywhere.

Yuri Sergheev, his sire, had taught him well. He’d given him eternity. He showed him the beauty of the night and introduced him to the joy of the hunt. In the hands of Yuri, he had learned the ways of their world, how to conduct himself in order to survive, how to give pain and pleasure and how to revel in them. He’d been his sire, his mentor, his lifeline for so long. And now Yuri was gone and Valentin was alone, running for his life.