Remembrance: written by Kora Knight & Raven Foxx
"Dinner is Served"
Clothed in a crisp, perfect white shirt tucked in form fitting black pants, Seth looks as dressed as he might feel comfortable to. Shirt partly unbuttoned, he paces before the fire place, waiting for Jazz’s arrival. Their last encounter had been intense in the most unexpected of ways, and now he finds himself wishing to share a meal with the angel.
He was going insane.
Shoving a hand through his hair, he stills, hearing movement behind him. He turns toward the sound. Jazz, wearing the white suit he had sent to him. The sight makes his chest squeeze. The male was stunning to look upon. It makes Seth hungry. He suddenly wants to rip the angel out of the very clothes he’d insisted he wear.
Jazz feels totally awkward in the monkey suit get-up he's wearing, but when he spots Seth similarly dressed, it puts him a little more at ease. He walks farther into the room, eyeing his captor tentatively. He never knows what to expect from the guy. He somehow gives by-polar a positive light. And now that Jazz is thinking more clearly, he’s even more apprehensive.
The vampire watches him just as intently. Jazz sits down at the table, his gaze quick to check out his new surroundings. Only one way in or out. No servants. They were alone together. Again.
He clears his throat and frowns at Seth. “This is… unexpected. What’s the occasion?”
Seth can easily see how uncomfortable the angel is. Inwardly, he sighs. “You need to eat, yes?” With liquid heat grace, he approaches the table, too. “I must admit, I'm surprised to see you wearing the suit. I expected you to refuse my… gift.” His lips twitch as he picks up a bottle of wine and pours them both a glass. He can feel Jazz’s gaze heavy upon him with each move he makes, but still the angel says nothing. He chuckles. “You're not going to tell me you're not hungry, are you? Or that you’re not delighted to be sharing a meal with me?” Smirking, he sets the bottle down and eases into a chair.
Jazz watches Seth settle in across from him. “I could eat,” he mutters. “And I'm getting used to the company, so...” Only when the vampire’s gaze moves to the fireplace does Jazz take a second to eye the generous spread of food, inhale their amazing aromas. Absently, he licks his lips. It’s been ages since he’s eaten such delicacies. Maybe since he resided in Heaven…
His gaze returns back to Seth. The vampire was staring at him again—with that curious fire in his eyes. Jazz swallows, shifting in his seat. Inclining his head toward the glass of wine, he grunts. “Thanks.”
Seth just shrugs.
Jazz can’t help staring at him, the way the dim lights flicker off his sharp, chiseled features.
Seth leans back in his seat, resting one foot on his knee. “Eat angel,” he urges. “You're going to need it.” He lifts his wine to his lips, watching Jazz.
Jazzy eyes him suspiciously.
Seth rolls his eyes. “Pick a bite and bring it here,” he sighs. “I'll taste it as proof there is nothing to fear.” A soft growl of disgust vibrates in his throat.
The sound he emits forces a wry smile from Jazz’s lips. Seth believes Jazz thinks he’d poison him. But the truth of the matter is, his hesitancy has nothing to do with the food and everything to do with how this setting, here, with Seth, is making him feel so uneasy. It’s disturbing how a side of him is becoming so at ease around the male. They’re getting ready to enjoy a quiet meal together for fucks sake. He shifts again as his dinner companion eyes him. Hell, at times, Jazz swears part of him actually looks forward to the vampire lord's company.
Fuck. What is wrong with him?
He just hates to be alone is all, he rationalizes. The servants refuse to talk to him and the only others he comes in contact with only come around to prep him for torture.
His muscles tense at the memories. But he also acknowledges the fact that it’s been a long time since the last time Seth lashed out at him. Had Jazz paid his due in Seth’s eyes? He regards the underlord curiously, trying to figure out his deal. The dude is a walking enigma.
For some reason he can’t explain, Jazz decides to say fuck it and just enjoy the feast before him. And take advantage of other opportunities he’s been given.
Abruptly, sliding his chair out, his eyes never leaving the vampire's, he saunters over to the other side of the table. Pulling out the chair next to Seth, he straddles it backwards, one forearm resting across its back. Time to worm his way deeper into the guy’s good graces.
As Seth eyes him darkly, Jazz’s gaze flicks to the platter of steaming meat bits. Leaning toward it, he pulls the dish closer and picks up a chunk of the tender beef.
Here goes nothing.
With gravy running down his fingers, he brings it to Seth's mouth.
Low and soft, Jazz murmurs, “Open.”
Seth stills at Jazz’s offer. “I don't eat human food,” he growls.
And yet, he finds himself parting his lips. He watches the angel move closer, sliding the bite into his mouth. He closes his lips around those fingers, sucking the juice from their tips. Jazz jerks his hand back, as if stung. Seth’s lips curl into a smirk.
“Problem?” he murmurs, slowly chewing the bite. Inwardly, his essence stirs.
Seth stiffens, shocked at how swiftly his body responded to the angel. Maybe sharing a meal like this wasn't a good idea after all. And yet… here he was.
Jazz frowns, even as his gaze locks onto Seth's mouth, his strong jaw working the bite he'd given him. His eyes dip lower when the vampire swallows, taking in how his prominent adam's apple rises and falls. In fact, it isn’t until Seth’s mouth goes utterly still—then curves into a salacious grin—that Jazz’s brain registers the underlord’s simple question.
Jazz blinks quickly, snapping out of it. He meets his captor’s stare and shakes his head. But before he realizes what he’s doing, his hand reaches out to grab another morsel. As if in morbid fascination, he again brings it to the vampire's mouth.
“Again,” he prompts, this time his voice holding a hungry growl.
Seth can't help but smile. He has the little angel transfixed. Lips parting, he accepts the next bite, again purposely suckling the male’s fingers clean.
“Are you alright, angel?” he murmurs, his teeth flashing into a smile.
Jazz stills, then nods, his brown eyes glancing away. Seth chuckles, then reaches out to pluck a grape from a fruit platter. It is time to return the gesture. He brings it slowly to the angel's lips. Jazz stills, his eyes flaring before he purses his mouth closed. Seth’s smirk darkens, even as he brushes the grape ─and then his thumb─ over those plump, sealed lips.
“Relax,” he breathes, urging Jazz’s mouth to open. “You need to eat.”
Jazz’s gut churns anxiously, suddenly not at all sure what he's doing, sitting next to Seth, like this, his fingers still wet from the vampire’s mouth. Another brush of the male’s thumb over his mouth. Jazz hisses, grabbing Seth's wrist. Firmly, he holds it still as his mind reals with what to do next. He can’t think straight, mesmerized by the male’s gaze, like a fly caught in a spider’s web.
He swallows, blinks, but ultimately opens his mouth, letting Seth place the grape on his tongue. All the while he still grips tight to the vampire's wrist. Barely, Seth's fingers graze his taste buds. They flare instantly to life. Jazz snaps his mouth shut, his teeth coming down hard on Seth’s thumb. The vampire’s eyes flash wickedly. With a low, raspy curse, Jazz yanks Seth's hand away.
Seth chuckles, but before he can say a word Jazz brings a super ripe wedge of cantaloupe to his smirking lips. “Open,” Jazz growls a bit too excitedly. Again their eyes lock, raw anticipation glittering.
“Careful,” Seth mutters. “I bite, too.”
He shifts in his seat. He just needs to get comfortable, he tells himself. It’s got nothing to do with how Jazz’s teeth clamping down on his finger suddenly made his slacks’ fly hug him a tighter. Or how the male’s fingers—back at his mouth—are making him salivate.
Slowly, Seth parts his lips, leaning forward to take the offered fruit. A fang grazes Jazz's thumb, slicing like a razor into his flesh.
“Oops,” Seth chuckles as Jazz quickly pulls away. “Did I do that?” With a smug grin, he licks his lips, then draws back to slowly begin chewing. Jazz glares at him. Seth’s lips twitch anew. “Afraid of me now?”
Jazz grunts, looking away. Seth bites back another laugh. He is nearly at his limit for human food, but now that he has sampled the male's fresh blood he no longer desires much else.
Eyes hooding, he inhales slowly and holds Jazz's gaze. “What are you up to?” he murmurs. “You act differently tonight.”
Jazz shoves back in his seat, needing more distance between them. How the hell is he supposed to answer that question? He has no freaking idea what he’s up to. At first, to try and captivate the vampire seemed like an appropriately twisted approach to take, one the depraved fucker would surely respond to. But now?
He scrubs his face, shaking his head. “I dunno,” he groans. “I dunno what the fuck I'm up to.” His hands drop to his lap. A deep, conflicted frown darkens his face. His gaze strays to the fire place. And still Seth remains silent, as if still waiting for a more substantial response.
Jazz exhales and picks up his glass of wine, chugging the whole thing with a growl. Promptly, he pours another, wine spilling over the edge in its fullness. He downs that one just as quick, then empties a third, too. Finally he turns to Seth, his eyes simmering. Before he can stop himself, genuine words of curiosity spill from his lips. “What is it you’d like me to be up to?”
Seth stills at his question, then hides his surprise with another infamous smirk. “Eat, angel,” he chuckles. "You're going to break yourself trying to figure out whatever it is that’s going on in your mind.” He too brings his glass to his lips. “And we can't have you thinking too hard about your master, now can we?”
He sets down his glass, but then stiffens when Jazz grabs his arm. Gazes locked, he growls. There is blatant desire in the angel’s eyes, even if Jazz doesn’t recognize it as such, and it’s burning hot. So hot that it’s all Seth can do not to throw him on the table, shove an apple in his mouth, and have his way with him.
Jazz freezes at Seth's sudden expression, even as the male’s words continue slithering around under his skin.
He purses his lips again. “Don’t mock me, vampire. I don’t find the way you’re fucking with my head even remotely funny.” His glare cools as Seth's smug grin fades. Gripping the vampire's arm tighter, Jazz lurches up in his grill. But his dark, tormented eyes drop of their own volition to Seth's mouth.
“Tell me what the fuck you’re doing to me,” he whispers, “or I swear to whatever you hold holy in this godforsaken place that I'll find a way to kick your ever-loving ass.”
And still his eyes stay locked to Seth's full lips.
The corners of Seth’s mouth curve. “If you could ever even begin to kick my ass, you wouldn't be here, in the position you are now. And what I hold holy,” he growls, getting into Jazz’s face, too, “is me.”
Jazz’s muscles clench.
Seth outright laughs, settling back in his chair. “Why are you so afraid to live? Why do you hold yourself back? Are you afraid you're going to fall?” His grins turns icy cruel. “News flash: you already have.” He eyes Jazz’s hand still shackling his wrist, then wickedly licks his lips.
Jazz frowns at Seth’s words, aware—but for some reason uncaring—that he’s still holding onto the dude’s arm. Why hasn’t Seth pulled away?
Jazz shakes his head, even more pointed questions surfacing in his mind. “No, the question here is clearly for you. Specifically, why it is that you keep yourself so friggin guarded.” Jazz’s jaw clenches. “Cause it’s a joke. I know it. You know it. I just don’t get why.” His fingers squeeze tighter as his eyes narrow. “What the fuck is knocking around in your brain, vampire?”
Seth’s eyes flash with blatant irritation.
Jazz scowls. “I’m not trying to piss you off, and I don’t wanna have a throw down.” His brows dip lower. “I just wanna know.”
Seth hisses, jerking his arm away. He was enjoying the angel’s touch too much. Shoving back in his chair, he rises to his looming six foot two stance. He explains himself to no one.
“Why is it so damn important what goes on in my mind?” he barks. “Why can't you just shut the fuck up and enjoy this? Just live and feel and do whatever!”
He glares bitterly down at his dinner guest. This topic of discussion was over. Snarling, he walks to stand before the fire place, glowering into the flames. With his back to the angel, he breathes in deeply, attempting to not only calm himself, but figure out why Jazz affects him as strongly as he does.
Jazz frowns deeper. He’s got no idea what the fuck to make of this vampire. Granted, he isn’t super versed in the ways of dark minds, but this guy has him utterly baffled—and strangely intrigued. Why does he give a shit about what troubles Seth's soul? The dude is a raging asshole. Jazz should be content just to know he’s suffering. But instead he’s feeling the strongest urge to try and fix the shit. Is he that much of a nut-job sucker for happy endings?
He sighs inwardly. Maybe. Who the fuck knows.
Regardless, he has an unsettling feeling that there’s more to why he wants to get inside Seth's head. Like he wants to actually get to know the guy or some shit. Find out what makes him tick. What makes him smile. And laugh.
What makes him purr....
Jazz snaps with a start from his unbidden musings. Ugh. What the fuck. Yeah, maybe it was time to try a different approach. He will have a fucking conversation with this guy, one way or another.
“Dude,” he begins, clearing his throat. “I never took you for a pussy-ass pansy. But you are such a chicken shit. So afraid to spill your deal.” His face screws up in disappointment. “I mean, what do you think I'm gonna do? Tell everyone your biz? I don’t talk to the freaks down here and it’s not like I’m going home anytime soon. Besides,” he mutters, crossing his arms. “I'm not that kinda person anyway. Your shit’s not mine to tell.” When all Seth does is afford him a glare over his broad shoulder, Jazz sighs and lowers his voice. “I know you got another side to you. I'm an angel. I can sense it. Feel it. When you're close."
He attempts a small smile. “And I can smell lies a mile away.”
Seth bristles, anger surging through his veins. “Get out,” he orders coldly. When Jazz doesn't move, he whirls around. “I said get the fuck out!”
Ire exploding deep within, he grabs the dishes from the table and sends them flying. “I won’t hear this shit! I'm not a pussy pansy—or whatever—and I won’t have you talking to me that way!”
He slams his hands atop the table, glaring murder across it at the angel. “Get out of my sight before I hurt you,” he grinds out, breathing deeply, hands curling into fists. He doesn’t know where such potent rage is coming from, but he can feel it boiling violently in his gut.
To his irritation, Jazz remains stock still in his seat, wide eyes watching Seth like he was a poisonous dragon.
“Forget it,” Seth snarls. “I'll get the fuck out.”
Pivoting, he stalks across the countless broken dishes toward the door, their crunch beneath his feet resounding louder than what seems natural. A firm hand abruptly grabs hold of his arm and jerks him around. Furious angel eyes pin him with disdain.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Jazz shouts, shoving him into a wall. “Did my foul language offend your virgin ears? Put on your big boy pants and get over it. It’s how I talk.”
Seth bares his fangs and shoves viciously back at him. Jazz stumbles but regains his footing fast and quickly slams Seth back into the wall. With fierce conviction, he shoves his forearm into Seth's throat as their bodies press tight.
“I can’t believe you're trying to fucking run from me,” he growls through clenched teeth. “Why do I piss you off so bad? I just wanted to fucking talk.”
Seth hisses, and with inhuman speed, grabs Jazz’s shoulders and spins them around, slamming Jazz’s back into the wall now with twice as much force. Air explodes from Jazz’s chest as sparks flash wildly in the vampire’s eyes. But before the underlord can say a word, Jazz grips hard to his sides and yanks him roughly closer. He isn’t going to let the fucker run. Not this time.
Determined eyes drop back to Seth's mouth. “Get a grip, vampire,” he grits out. “Enough with the stupid fucking temper tantrums. They're starting to annoy the fuck out of me.”
Seth lets out an unholy roar and reals his fist back, clearly intending to punch him in the face. But Jazz quickly turns his head and offers his neck. “Will my blood chill you the fuck out?” he asks hurriedly. “Take it. Just take it.”
Taken off guard, Seth stares down at the offered vein. Chest heaving, he finds himself completely torn. Should he beat him, bite him, or maybe even… kiss him. His insides rage like a hurricane.
Fangs suddenly throbbing at the prospects, he glares down at the male pressed against him. Without warning, he jerks free, grabs hold of Jazz’s face, then slams his head back into the wall. Jazz yelps, stunned, then groans. But Seth isn’t done. Growling, he shoves closer and kisses Jazz brutally. Teeth clashing, his tongue thrusts forcefully past Jazz’s lips. Hungrily he takes, his kiss angry, aggressive, demanding. Jazz shifts against him, his body tense, his heartbeat hammering. Seth savors the angel’s blatant apprehension. Fear; it’s like a drug, an aphrodisiac to Seth’s black-as-night soul.
Growling deeply again, he breaks the kiss and shoves Jazz away. “Now go fucking eat,” he snaps. “And shut the hell up.”
Completely shocked into silence, Jazz just stands there. He so had not seen that coming. He blinks at Seth, frowning as the vampire struggles blatantly to regain his composure. When the guy looks like his head’s about to riffle off his shoulders, though, Jazz finally wises up. Evidently, talky-time is over.
Inclining his head, he saunters back over to his seat. With his back to Seth, he shoves a piece of fruit in his mouth. Chew-chew-swallow, chew-chew-swallow. Again and again.
Finally, he asks under his breath, “Why… Why did you do that?”
Seth’s jaw ticks. “What is it with you and the damn questions?” he growls, shaking his head. “Just shut up and eat.”
With a grunt, he too returns to the table, dropping irritably down to swipe up his glass of wine. Downing it in one gulp, he narrows his eyes on the fire place. He doesn't dare look at the angel right now. He may do something even stupider.
Since Seth is looking anywhere but at him, Jazz is totally free to stare at the male completely unabashed. Study him. His flickering expressions. His stiff body language. Geez, the guy is wound tighter than fuck. But Jazz isn’t getting just anger from his vibes. He seems amped in other ways, too. That brutal attack to Jazz's mouth clearly hasn’t helped his mood.
Jazz takes another bite, eyes still locked shamelessly on the vampire. Chewing, he frowns. Seth has successfully avoided all of his questions so Jazz has been unable to detect any lies.
Irritated at everything about this damn night, Jazz clears his throat. “You really want me to shut up? You really wanna do the rest of this dinner thing in silence?” When Seth only grunts, he shrugs. “Cause the thing is, I’m a talker if you hadn’t noticed. This quiet shit goes against my nature.” He grins slightly as he pours some more wine, trying like hell to lighten the tense vibe in the air—one that’s undeniably originating from Seth's seething form.
Unable to stand being stared at a second longer, Seth turns to meet Jazz's gaze. “What is it the children say?” he growls. “Take a picture, it will last longer?”
When Jazz flashes a sheepish look, Seth fights a small smile. “There are times I don't wish to talk.” Frowning, he exhales. “You want to know so much about me,” he mutters. “I'm a cruel bastard. Be happy knowing that. It could save your life one day.”
Taking a chunk of meat from its platter, he leans forward and—feeling the need to make up for his earlier outburst—lifts it to Jazz's lips. “Will my answer suffice? Or will you continue to argue with me?”
Jazz stills as Seth leans closer. In what seems to be becoming habit, his gaze has dropped back down to watch the vampire's lips move as he speaks. Jazz must be in rare form, or completely insane, because he suddenly feels the urge to test his boundaries. Oddly, while he knows Seth could end him in a second, he's not afraid of the male. What he does feel, however, he’s not quite ready to analyze.
With a slight shrug, he opens his mouth. “Well, yeah, you’re definitely a cruel bastard,” he agrees, chewing Seth’s offering. “A raging asshole, even. I get that, I do.” His lips twitch as Seth flashes him a glare. “But I just…” he shrugs again, “I dunno. I guess I’m just sick of being in the friggin’ dark with you. I wanna know what the fuck gives. Do I still have to watch my back? Are you still planning to off me? Or are we...” a third shrug, “are we cool? Frenemies or some shit?”
Seth stares at Jazz. The question he asks makes him pause to think. “I…” he starts, only to stop with a frown. “Eat,” he snaps. “Stop asking so many damn questions.” Jerking back, he snatches up a cube of cheese, pops it into his mouth, and begins to chew.
He couldn’t speak, after all, with food in his mouth.
The angel sighs heavily and begins once again to eat. But when the silence lingers on, Seth reluctantly is forced to swallow.
“I don't know what to think of you, Angel,” he admits under his breath. “Besides the fact that you annoy the fuck out of me.” His lip curls back. “I cannot let you kill any more of my people,” he states simply. He pours them both another glass of wine. “For if you ever were to do so, I would be forced to kiss you.” He freezes, realizing what he'd said. “I mean kill you,” he snarls with extra menace, gulping down his entire drink.
Jazz can’t help laughing at the fuck up. A real, genuine laugh. It was the first one he’s had in ages.
Reaching over, he snags a piece of bread and shoves it in his mouth, smirking. “Talk about opposite ends of the spectrum.” When Seth shoots him a glare, Jazz shrugs. “My job is my job. It’s part of who I am. But…” his eyes wander in thought, “maybe I can tweak its description a bit.” Swallowing his mouthful, he suddenly realizes Seth’s been watching him chew.
He licks his lips and shifts in his seat. “Um. So if you're willing to work with me some...”
Hearing the angel's words, he narrows his eyes. “Work with you how?” he snarls. Jazz opens his mouth to answer, but Seth quickly shakes his head. “No. Fuck that. It's my way or death. You'll be wise to remember that.”
Once more on guard, he moves with a hiss to fling his glass into the fire place. At the last second, he stops and slams it atop the table instead.
“Bring me something stronger,” he bellows to the servants lingering outside. “And a gag for this damn fool!”
The sound of scampering feet resounds in from the hallway. A moment later, a servant arrives with a glass, the thing filled with a pricey scotch. Beside it on the silver tray, a gag made of silver silk. Seth seethes at the sight, readying to back hand a servant.
“You stupid fuck!” he barks. But when Jazz grabs his hand to stop him, he instantly freezes. Locking gazes with the angel, he growls at his servant, “Leave us.” Despite his current tirade, he can’t help smirking. He can tell by the look in Jazz’s eyes that he’s going to catch hell for his behavior.
Aggravated, Jazz’s eyes slide from the cowering servant to Seth's glare. Sighing, he shakes his head. “Dude,” he grits. “What the fuck? He was just doing what you asked. Chill─the freak─out.”
Unable to stop them, his eyes dip down to the gag on the tray. A vision of it in full use—and some manacles to boot—flash across his mind. But it isn’t Jazz this time being restrained. It’s Seth.
Clearing his throat—and his thoughts—he looks back up at the scowling male. Seth still looks hell bent on hurting someone.
Jazz groans. “Let it go? Just this once?”
Seth narrows his eyes and yanks his arm away. Snatching up the scotch bottle, he douses his glass with more, then downs its entire content. When he jerks his chin at the servant, instructing him to get lost, Jazz exhales the breath he's been holding and smiles.
“Thanks. I knew you weren't a total dick─”
His words are cut off by a wicked lance of pain lashing through his torso. He grimaces, a wave of chills racing through his veins. With agonized eyes, he peers up at Seth. The vampire eyes him.
“Fuck,” Jazz groans, doubling over. “I... I don’t feel so good.”
Seth frowns, then forces a cold smirk. “Yes, you suddenly look like shit.” But inside, that damn guilt begins to resurface. He curses, wanting to beat the shit out of the angel for making him feel such things. His angry thoughts give him pause. No, he doesn’t want to hurt the angel any more than he already has. The male has paid his dues.
Sighing, he lifts his wrist to his mouth, bites down hard, then extends the wound to his angel. “Drink,” he orders, eyes narrowing in warning. “Or I will go find that servant and rip out his throat, leaving him to choke to death on his own damn blood.”
Jazz eyes his wrist warily, conflict and torment darkening the young male’s handsome features. The scent of Seth’s blood was clearly calling to him.
Another bitter shudder wracks Jazz’s frame. With a panting gasp, he grabs hold of Seth’s wrist and latches his lips around the gash.
Seth shivers at the contact. “Fuck,” he growls, eyes glazing over at the feel. “Come here.”
Eyes hooded, he reaches out and drags Jazz’s doubled-over body onto his lap. His blood will help Jazz, but to ease him entirely, the angel needs more. Seth’s fangs throb to deliver such sweet reprieve.
The pangs coming fast and hard, Jazz nearly whimpers against Seth’s flesh. Hands clamping tight around Seth’s forearm, he drinks him down. His blood. His drug. There is no longer any doubt whatsoever in Jazz’s mind. He is utterly and absolutely addicted to some part of Seth’s essence. He could curse at the depravity of it. But fuck, the pain is insane. Inwardly, Jazz is beyond grateful that Seth has threatened to hurt an innocent. It made it easier for Jazz to relent and take what the vampire offered.
Even now, with his blood on Jazz’s tongue, the fragrance of it makes him shudder. Like he's been deprived of oxygen and is finally able to breathe. Jazz sucks harder as he shifts atop Seth’s thighs. Oh shit, he tastes like the rich, virile wine. Strong, heady, spicy and sweet.
He moans—like a happy junky who just got his fix. In the recesses of his mind, he hears Seth moan, too. His head spins. His veins ignite. His groin stiffens. And then suddenly, he's not just huddled atop Seth’s legs, but straddling the male’s powerful thighs. Hot lips and tongue are roaming along his neck, dark growls rumbling against his neck. Jazz shivers, pressed firmly against a warm, strong chest, as powerful arms cage him tight.
In the back of his brain, he knows he should be forcing distance between their writhing bodies, but right now, as long as his mouth stays locked on Seth’s wrist, he can’t give two shits about the rest of his body’s placement. Of their own volition, his hips begin to roll, even as sharp fangs prod at his vein. Seth plans to bite him.
Whatever, Jazz moans to himself as he continues to drink.
Feeling Jazz's wet mouth suckling him hard, Seth lets out a heavy, thrumming groan. It’s erotic and beautiful and so very sexual. How he relishes feeding his angel.
And feeding from him.
He can wait no longer.
Opening his mouth, he growls, then sinks his fangs deep into Jazz's neck. Blood instantly floods his mouth, making both men moan deep. Arms tightening around Jazz's body, Seth grinds up against the sweet ass perched on his lap. How he wants to be thrusting inside him, with no fabric barriers keeping them apart.
Eyes closing, he savors this connection between them. Soon their hearts are beating in tune.
Damn you, damn you for making me this weak, Seth moans inwardly. He feels so lost. Something he will never share with the angel.
He stiffens beneath Jazz.
Seth can't let himself feel. Not like this! Not ever! Snarling, he jerks back, shoving the angel from his lap. Onto his feet he rises, swiftly stepping over the angel, stalking angrily toward the door. “Fuck you, angel!” he barks, exiting with a fiery fervor. “Fuck you!”
Jazz groans, rolling onto his back on the cold, stone floor. Chest heaving, his head continues to spin. The pain is gone and he feels twice as strong as before. Like a druggie amped up on PCP. He curses at the thought, closing his eyes as he lies there alone. Seth’s pitch-black eyes and bloody fangs flash behind his eyelids.
Again, he groans. What had set Seth off this time? Jazz had taken what the vampire offered, even met his erotic grinds with a few shameful ones of his own. He covers his face with a grimace. He’s so fucked in the head.
Buzzing and nearly drunk from the vampire’s potent blood, he gets to his feet and ambles out the door, heading toward the only place he can. His dark, cold, too-quiet chambers.
He drags a hand through his hair and curses. “What a fucked-up dinner that was...”
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