Isadora (Masters Among Monsters Book 2) (33 page)

As Vasilios went to step back, Leo quickly placed his hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. As he skimmed them up the nape of his neck to finger his hair, he realized they were shaking.
 

Pull it together, Chapel. These guys are…are—

“Yours,” they answered in unison.

When his eyes connected with Vasilios’s, the vampire gave him a full-fanged grin, and the nerves he’d been feeling fell the fuck away.
 

“Yes, I want you,” he said as he memorized that look. “I want you both.”

“Then that is what you shall have,” Vasilios vowed. “Alasdair.” When the solid frame behind him vanished, Leo looked to see where Alasdair had gone.

Not far, it turned out. He was standing up on the altar, offering his hand. As Leo reached for it, he was hauled up on top of the marble slab, and then cool air rushed against his naked back—Vasilios was behind him. Their positions were now reversed, with Vasilios at his back and Alasdair at his front.
 

Alasdair bent his head and kissed the hollow at the base of his throat. Leo shut his eyes from the sheer ecstasy of it, and strong hands clasped his hips and steadied him. Alasdair licked a sensual path down his chest to bite and flick his nipples, and Leo bucked back against Vasilios.
 

As he stood on the altar of this massive Chamber with Alasdair kneeling before him and Vasilios’s dripping cock coating the crevice of his ass, tears fell from his eyes.
 

Alasdair had said that he would be worshipped tonight, and in the center of this madness, he felt as if he were coming undone. He needed something inside him, or he needed to come. Either way, something had to happen soon or he would go out of his mind.

Vasilios growled in his ear and lowered his hand to Alasdair, who sucked on his fingers before returning his attention to Leo’s stiff cock. Then those same fingers grazed over his hole. His body tensed, and when Alasdair swallowed him to the back of his throat, Vasilios slid his fingers inside.
 

With one hand on Alasdair’s head, Leo clamped the other over the hand Vasilios had on his thigh. “Yes,” he hissed as he thrust onto the fingers that were moving in and out of his body.

Vasilios wasn’t easy on him, but he was not going at him nearly as hard as he had Alasdair the night he’d lain under them.

“Of course not,
agóri
,” Vasilios murmured. “I do not wish to break you. I wish to fuck you.”

“Oh shit,” he gasped when Vasilios nipped at his neck. “I want that. I want it so fucking bad.”

“I know.
Hmm
. This is how this is going to go,” he told him in a voice so full of carnal promise that Leo was pretty fucking sure he would have agreed to whatever the male said. “Alasdair is going to lie back…”
 

Alasdair raised his head, revealed his fangs in a filthy smirk, and maneuvered himself into position. He was flat on his back upon the stone, and his legs were bent, displaying his hard-as-fuck cock.
 

“He is delicious, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Leo said before licking his lips.

“Now, if I remember your vision correctly, you wanted to suck his cock, did you not?”

Leo quickly turned his head, and Vasilios raised an eyebrow.

“I did.”

“Did?”

“Do,” Leo corrected himself, remembering the other part of his vision—the part Vasilios would be doing.
 

Alasdair was stroking himself while Vasilios whispered, “Then you better get to it before you miss your opportunity.”

ALASDAIR WATCHED EVERY thought that crossed Leo’s mind, and as he knelt between his spread thighs and put his palms on his knees, the sexy man gave him a smile that was part sex and part shy. It was all Leo, and that expression had been designed to drive him fucking insane.

They all knew exactly what was about to happen. When Leo lowered his head and dragged his tongue up Alasdair’s dick, he couldn’t help the fierce roar that came from him. That blond head between his legs was enough to send his climax straight to his balls. But add in the hot-as-hell stare Vasilios was aiming at the both of them as he knelt behind Leo, and Alasdair’s eyes were close to rolling to the back of his head.

He knew why Vasilios had chosen to do this here instead of The Walk. This was where new vampires came to pledge allegiance. They cut their palms and placed them upon the podium, and every vampire that stepped foot in the Chamber could feel their presence.
 

For them to take Leo there, for him to sweat there, spill his seed there, was the biggest sign Vasilios and he could give that Leo was theirs—bar fucking the man in front of the members, which they both knew Leo would not be up for.

So, when the tip of Vasilios’s cock pressed against Leo’s hole and those grey eyes found his, Alasdair pushed into Leo’s mind,
Enjoy this moment. It is yours.

LEO’S FINGERS DUG into Alasdair’s thighs as Vasilios’s cock slowly penetrated him. He was wider than Alasdair, but as he filled him inch by sublime fucking inch, Leo clenched his teeth and kept his eyes on the one lying beneath him.

The act was reminiscent of the first time they’d all been together on Vasilios’s bed. This time, though, he had full control over his body. His arms shook and his fingers dug into Alasdair’s flesh as Vasilios came down over him and said in his ear, “I want to watch you suck him,” and Leo wasn’t about to say no.

He flicked his tongue over Alasdair’s dripping slit, wanting to tease a little. But, when Vasilios drew back and stilled, Leo cursed in frustration.
 

“Not fun to be teased, is it, Leonidas?”
 

When Alasdair grimaced, his cheek twitched, as if he was having a hard time not smirking.
 

“I said wrap your pretty lips around his cock and suck him.”

With one hand, Leo encircled the base of Alasdair’s cock and then slowly sucked the plump head of him between his lips. Then Vasilios surged back inside.
Holy hell
, he had the two of them inside him.
 

As he shut his eyes and reveled in that moment, Alasdair’s hand moved to the back of his head. His eyes flew open as Alasdair increased the pressure of that hand and urged him on. Leo swirled his tongue around him, unable to get enough of his taste. Then one of Vasilios’s palms smoothed up his back and their fingers entwined to hold his head in place.
 

Leo’s breath faltered and his eyes blurred from the sexual high. Though this was the most untamed act he’d ever been a part of, it was also the most beautiful. Every move each of them made prompted a response from the other. They were high on one another as they touched, licked, sucked, and fucked, and when Alasdair’s eyes went from green to black and the male behind Leo tensed, Leo knew that this was it. He could feel it in every fiber of his soul, and as they each exploded with the other, Leo experienced
la petite mort—
the little death. It was, he now realized, the only death he’d ever receive from these two males, something he couldn’t have imagined only a couple of days earlier.
 

He was theirs and they were his, and as he crawled up beside Alasdair and looked back at Vasilios, he raised his hand. This time, the Ancient was the one who took the offer from
him
as Leo gently drew him down to his other side. Then the three of them closed their eyes upon the altar of their sins.

ELIAS WAS RESTLESS as he lay curled around Isadora, his eyes trained on the male in the lounge across from them.

As soon as he’d showered, he’d come back to the room to find Isadora seated in the center of the mattress in a white nightgown. She’d held her hand out to him, and when he’d taken it, he’d warily lain down beside her. Their relationship was certainly not healed or mended or whatever shit it needed to be, but as he aligned his body with hers, her familiar smell, feel, and touch had him closing his eyes and praying that, somehow, there was another way. Another way beyond the violence he’d been created to inflict.

For right now, however, he was exhausted, and since it appeared he wasn’t about to meet his death tonight, he closed his eyes and willed sleep to take him away for a few hours…

Ancient Greece—250 BC

HORSES’ HOOVES BEAT a rapid tattoo upon the ground as Elias’s mind cleared and he found himself standing in a large courtyard of sorts. People hurriedly brushed by him as if he weren’t there, and he knew exactly what was happening.
 

His goddess had finally decided to show herself again. Up until now, she’d been rather absent, considering what had gone down, and he wondered if she expected him to beg for help now that he was in this strange situation with Isadora and her sire.
 

If that were the case, she had another thing coming. If she wanted to explain herself, explain this ever-changing situation, then the least she could do was step up and show him something useful.
 

He scanned the area around him, searching for Isadora. That was, after all, how these visions were to work, from what he’d read on the scrolls that had been left for him back when this all had begun. He’d been warned of flashbacks. Compulsion. Tricks of the brain. Just as he’d been instructed to train. Train his mind and train his body. To resist and fight.

Yeah, look how far that got me.

As men and women traded goods for food, the sun vanished and the moon appeared in its place. The day had wound down, and several torches lit the courtyard.

Elias milled about the crowd, listening to the gossip they were sharing. The prince had called them to gather this evening for an execution, which was why so many were in attendance. But he didn’t spot Isadora anywhere.
 

As the doors of the secured courtyard parted, six horses galloped inside. Sitting astride the stallions were men dressed in heavy armor and helmets. Swords swung by their sides, and daggers were secured to their belts. And the final horse that entered the courtyard drew a rickety carriage behind it.
 

When it passed by him, he saw a man inside, bound to one of the wooden rails of the carriage. He had a hessian hood over his head and was wearing a loose pair of pants that matched.

Elias stepped back as the carriage came to a stop in front of him, but when the soldiers, guards, or whoever they were dismounted, they didn’t see him at all.
No
, they walked by him as if he weren’t even there.

The commoners who’d gathered around were whispering among one another. Their eyes were alight at what was no doubt a prisoner being brought to justice. His hands were untied, and then he was dragged down from the carriage. The man stumbled and fell to the ground with a loud, “Omph!” and Elias winced. His feet were shredded and bloodied, and when one of the guards hauled him to his feet and yanked him forward, he followed along behind him.
 

As he was led between the throngs of onlookers, the volume of their whispers increased and turned to shouts of disdain. “Skotoste! Skotoste ton amartolo!”

Yes,
Elias thought.
This is an execution. Kill
and
sinner.
Those were the words being shouted at the man. One thing history never failed to produce was a frenzied group of people ready to believe each other no matter the cost—even a life.