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Authors: Pelaam

Tags: #gay paranormal erotic romance

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BOOK: Daimon
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This sleeper's rest was also disturbed, and the blond kicked at the single sheet that covered him. Daimon waited, unable to resist his natural, carnal instincts. Feeling voyeuristic, he stared at the expanse of pale skin adorned with the slightest of platinum down and small pink nipples, haloed by rose-coloured areolae. Daimon took a deep breath and prevented himself from bending forward to sample them and see if they tasted as perfect as they looked.

His gaze moved lower, devouring the sight of platinum curls framing a slender, smooth rod that lay quiescent on the sleeper's silken thigh. For a moment, Daimon imagined the organ erect and dripping; he licked his lips.

Cocking his head thoughtfully as he completed his visual feast, he drew the sheet back over the sleeper. Already he had taken more than enough of a liberty to look while the young man was unaware of his presence. He frowned, detecting a faint medicinal odour, and knew the blond's deep sleep was drug-induced. Opening a drawer in the wooden locker at the side of the bed he uncovered a supply of disposable needles and a syringe as well as a small bottle.

Daimon studied the contents. They would not do much to subdue a transformed Lycan, but would keep the beautiful young man, while in human form, sleeping.

He gave a growl, subvocal, but no less menacing for the quietness. He leant down and licked the vulnerable throat. The taste confirmed his assumption. A sour chemical flavour marred the blond's natural sweetness and established the deep sleep was drug-induced. Daimon's growl became a snarl. He had no idea why the beauty would be treated in such a manner, but he had every intention of finding out.

Daimon generally avoided being an active participant in the ever-present battle between the powers of light and dark. He preferred to think of himself as neutral. However, when it came down to it, he knew he would fight for light if he had to. He glanced back to the window.

Drugs, barred windows, and a guard outside, not far away. All told Daimon that, whoever this beauty was, no chances were taken that he could escape his prison. Almost without conscious thought, Daimon scooped the sleeping form in his arms, cradling him to his chest. His body reacted as it always did when in such proximity to an attractive male. However, he ignored his errant erection and held the lissom form tenderly. Something he couldn't name brought out his more protective nature.

Daimon dematerialised, easily able to take the sleeper with him, and returned to his home. He tucked his precious bundle into his bed. He knew he could mount his vigil from a chair, but decided that his bed was the more comfortable option. He grinned.
If I was completely altruistic, I'd have been born an angel not a demon

Part of him hoped the blond would indulge in an early morning romp once the drugs left his system. Daimon would accept such a reward as thanks very readily.

Lycans processed such chemicals quicker than mere humans. However, Daimon had no intentions of molesting or taking advantage of the other man while so vulnerable.

But first, he needed to take care of a pressing, personal problem before slipping into bed with the blond.

He still had the erection that had begun with the proximity of the silver-haired Lycan and continued when holding the attractive blond. He sat in his armchair and glanced at his sleeping beauty. He dropped one hand to encircle his aching, swollen flesh. He stroked languidly, squeezing at the head of his arousal to encourage precome to slick his long, thick length. As his hand began to slide easily, he increased his speed with a low growl of pleasure.

His gaze raked over the slumbering form, but even as he imagined creamy thighs spread for him, satiny mounds parting to offer him a warm, tight place to bury his throbbing length, the vision changed.

Instead of the lithe blond, the powerful silver male dominated his erotic daydream. He threw back his head, gasping as spikes of lust jabbed low in his abdomen making him spurt precome more liberally.

While he continued to stroke with one hand, he used the other to pinch his nipples and pull at the gold rings that pierced them. He then reached up to his horns, another source of his sensual pleasure. He let his nails rake over one then the other, relishing the touch as it added to his growing arousal.

He tickled his perineum and large, heavy sac with his tail before sweeping it over his puckered entrance. He rubbed it quickly to coat it with his pre-ejaculate and pushed it inside himself. Wriggling it erotically, he used the tip of his tail to quickly find and rub his sweet spot, making himself writhe and groan softly. He increased the speed of his strokes on his rapidly heating flesh, his body undulating rhythmically as he raced towards completion.

With a grunt he came hard, the crème of his release contrasting with the red of his skin. He licked his fingers appreciatively before dematerialising and re-forming, clean, to curl protectively around the body in his bed.

Sleep claimed him in seconds, and his dreams featured a muscular, silver-haired male in a myriad of pleasurable positions.




Awareness came slowly and with it despair. As soon as his jailer knew Leland had woken, he would administer the detested drug once more. It made the day a waking nightmare; they injected him with enough to keep him docile, unable to take refuge in oblivion. He would be washed, dressed, fed, and told over and over that Randal would never find him, even if he bothered to try. That Randal would have already sought another warm body to replace him. He had heard this so often that insidious doubt had rooted.

Now it took several moments for realisation to set in.

First, no one, not even Gene, had made an unwelcome appearance. Second, this was not the room he had gone to sleep in. Third, a large, warm body lay next to his.

He stared at the naked, red-skinned demon. The demon's black horns were elegantly upswept, his face darkly attractive and framed by thick, black hair, and his lips were full and red. The demon's attractiveness stunned Leland, and then reality crashed around him.

He had been kidnapped from one set of jailors to be in the bed of another.

Before he had time to panic and fling himself away, strong arms encircled him and pulled him tightly to the demon's powerful chest. He gave a choked cry, his voice rusty from disuse. Slowly he became aware the demon simply rocked him gently and a smooth, deep voice crooned assurances.

He could scent no malice or deceit from the other male. Slowly he calmed and relaxed, and then sobs burst forth. Throughout the torrent of his unrestrained emotion, the demon never released his hold and his voice never ceased in its reassuring timbre. Step by step he regained a semblance of self-control and moved back to stare wide-eyed at the smiling visage of the darkly attractive demon.

Leland realised the demon would have been aware the moment he had begun to awaken. In response to his swirling maelstrom of emotions came despair, longing, fear, doubt, and shock; the demon had acted as one who cared.

To cry, to let loose of his emotions, had been a balm to Leland's troubled soul, and he was grateful to the demon for crooning nonsense and waiting for him to become composed once more. As Leland looked at him, the demon gave a slow, wide grin of satisfaction.

"I am Daimon," the demon said, his voice a dark caress. "This is my home, and you are under my protection here."

"My name is Leland," he replied.


Daimon applauded his intuition as he gazed into the alluring turquoise eyes. Leland had a soft, melodic voice which held a minute trace of a French accent. Daimon banked the fires of his arousal. He wanted the young man to feel safe with him, and a rampant erection would doubtless undo all he had achieved thus far. He smiled, knowing it would look seductive, but that was part and parcel of his libidinous, demonic nature.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Leland," Daimon said, letting Leland hear the truth in his voice. "However, I am intrigued to know how such a pretty, young wolf cub came to be in the situation I found you."

Daimon made a discontented noise as tears again leaked from the expressive azure eyes.

"Shh, shh," he murmured. "Whatever it is, I promise to help."

He tucked the smaller body against his and rocked once more. When Leland became composed and able to speak, Daimon listened attentively.

"I have been separated from my mate. Randy will never find me," Leland said, his voice cracking. "My papa doesn't approve, and I miss him so much it hurts."

"Your father was at the other house?" Daimon asked, unhappy at the thought.

"No, no, that's Gene and his men," Leland replied.

Daimon frowned. He needed to hear things in full. "Tell me from the beginning," he urged.

"Papa is American, but my mother was French. She was human, not Lycan, but the gene still passed to me through my father. We spent a lot of my childhood visiting France, and Mama made sure I spoke her native language."

"Hence the very attractive accent," Daimon said with a smile. "You said your mother
French?" The telling of his tale was helping Leland; Daimon could hear a mix of affection and assurance creeping into the blond's voice.

"She died," Leland said, his voice suddenly sad. "We lived in America, and my father was always a more peripheral figure in my life. He takes his responsibilities as an alpha and leader of the pack very seriously. I am no alpha. I will not succeed him. He let Mama care for me, and I wanted for nothing. My family is rich and my father a successful business tycoon."

"But you missed your father's presence," Daimon said, earning a nod.

"I had a wealth of material things, but not what I truly wanted. The simple loving affection and closeness of a father for his son. Mama was killed in an altercation between dark and light. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even her guards were killed trying to protect her, and my father was devastated. He coped by throwing himself harder into work and more into protecting and strengthening the pack."

"And you?" Daimon asked softly.

"I missed her and wished I could have shared my grief with Papa, but I never saw him cry. I've never seen him display any weakness. Then, as a graduation present, Papa arranged for me to travel to France and go back to Mama's hometown, Avallon. I was going to spend a year there living with Mama's family. It was wonderful to see them all again and to be able to just be me with no one having any expectations of what I would do or say or how I should behave."

"It sounds like just what you needed," Daimon said. "There is a 'but' though?"

"Very much so," Leland said with a deep sigh. "I travelled around Burgundy and into Morvan Forest where I met Randal—Randy. He was the embodiment of my dreams, and I was attracted to him at what felt like cell level."

"He didn't try and take advantage of you?" Daimon asked, ready to defend the pretty, young cub.

"Oh no," Leland assured, clearly picking up on Daimon's sudden agitation. "Randy would not rush anything. He was careful and considerate. We went on several dates before we even kissed. Then we travelled together, our physical relationship very chaste. We grew to know each other and enjoy being together, and the instant attraction I felt gave way to something deeper, more permanent."

"Good," Daimon said, his voice a low purr of approval that had Leland smiling.

"We spent four idyllic months together, and I told my family. I thought my father would be pleased. I wouldn't be under his feet anymore. After all, I would only ever be a beta. I was sure he would be happy to see me married off."

"He wasn't?" Daimon urged softly. He felt the slight nod which brushed silken tresses against his nipples and his skin and gave an inward groan. The youth possessed an unconscious eroticism. Steeling himself, he resumed listening. He would take care of his baser needs later.

"Randy and I had always stayed apart during the Phase. Neither of us wanted to jeopardise what had been growing. But last month, we chose to transform together; the last step before forging our permanent mating for life. We stood together deep in Morvan Forest as the moon rose. We had already stripped in preparation."

"I wish I'd been there," Daimon said his tone wistful. "The woods sound like an idyllic place for two Lycans to make love," he added at the look of curiosity in Leland's eyes. The mental picture of two attractive, aroused young men sent tendrils of lust to tease throughout Daimon's body. "Please continue," he urged, bringing his own ever-increasing arousal under some semblance of control.

"Oh, Daimon," Leland sighed. "If I had thought Randy
as a man, as a Lycan he was
. He was a natural alpha. I dropped to my knees before him, and I will never forget the sight of him, head back, silhouetted against the moon, howling his triumph. He nuzzled me, scented me, licked me so intimately that I offered myself then and there. Instead he sucked me until I had nothing left to offer him before he decorated me with his seed, claiming me as his. We wanted to consummate our love at the next full moon."

Daimon waited patiently as Leland descended into silence. Then the young man began again, his voice now laced with sorrow and pain.

"My father received my news and wasn't pleased. He was furious. He called me to say that Randy only wanted me for the wealth I had, and he would find a suitable partner for me back in the US. I wasn't given any time or opportunity to defend Randy. I managed to get a message to him through a sympathetic cousin, and I was taken back to the States. I was met by Gene, who is a leader of one of the smaller packs under my father's overall dominance."

"Is he the silver-haired Lycan by any chance?" Daimon asked and received a nod that caused Leland's long hair to rub against him once more.

"Yes. He said that we would be going to his home, so that even if Randy did try to follow me, he wouldn't find me. Gene underestimated me, and I managed to escape him, but he and his men tracked and caught me. That's when he drugged me to keep me from escaping again. My father is coming here. He would have got here sooner, but there was a pack problem he needed to deal with first."

BOOK: Daimon
4.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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