4

Morgan woke to the sound of a scream so loud it rattled the windows. He followed it wearily to the door of the cabin. It hung open and an icy draft blew through and wrapped around him, plucking at his bare toes. Outside, just beyond the tree line, a dark shape struggled in the snow. It took a minute for him to identify it as the vampire. He'd fallen into a thigh-high drift and a tree had dumped more on top, partially burying him. He was still floundering by the time Morgan pulled on boots and a coat to make his way over.

"Having fun?" he asked. He cupped his hand around a yawn. The sky was a clear, crisp blue overhead and his breath drifted away like clouds.

"No." Ezra sat up in the well he'd made, legs sprawled, the toes of his ridiculous shoes wearing little snowy caps. He was definitely pouting.

"So I guess you really are stranded here. Unless some kind soul drives you into town."

"I can walk. Thank you." The jutting lower lip and scowl shouldn't have been as pretty as it was. Not when Morgan knew full well that he was looking at a monster. A well-behaved monster. A monster that looked adorable buried in the snow. But still a monster.

Morgan held out a hand to hoist him up. "You can walk but you're not. Why?"

Ezra glared at him, but eventually he set his hand in Morgan's and let himself be towed to his feet. He swept all the snow off that he could, moving in quick angry jerks. Shook the droplets from his wild hair. When he'd finished, he sauntered back towards the house. "I have my reasons."

"Is one of them to make sure I never get a good night's sleep again? Because if it is, you're doing really well so far."

The look the vampire shot him over his shoulder was sly. "It's possible." His gaze lingered on Morgan a second too long before he turned and mounted the steps. Judging by his swagger, he knew exactly where Morgan was looking.

*****

"YOU'VE HAD YOUR CHANCE to be nosy. Now it's mine. Why are you here?" Ezra asked, chin propped on folded hands as he watched the hunter putter about gathering wood to make a fire.

Morgan stood momentarily frozen. "Me?" Several expressions crossed his face in quick succession, but Ezra could read none of them. He wondered if there was even a name for some of them. Maybe they were things that could only belong to this man in this place at this time and never again. The thought had a certain romantic appeal. "This is my vacation," was all Morgan said before he dropped to his knees beside the fireplace with his burden of firewood and took out a match to light it.

Ezra's eyes stayed trained on his back. Morgan's shirt stretched tight between broad shoulder blades. The back of his jeans dipped as he crouched. Ezra didn't have a type, not really, but when he looked it was usually at hands, at eyes and mouths and attitudes that said they knew what to do with him. He'd been half starved at the time but Ezra could still feel the echo of the hunter's hands on him when they fought. The control in them. The strength. They couldn't have broken him, but they had handled his body like a shard of glass, dangerous yet fragile. Ezra wouldn't mind seeing what else they could do.

With him.

To him.

But for that he needed time. He wasn't sure he had it.

Ezra had sensed something in the woods last night. Searching. It moved too fast to be human. His kidnappers had implied that they answered to someone higher, probably another clan, which meant they were unlikely to give up the hunt for him so easily. The snow might hamper their searches just as it had kept Ezra confined to the cabin, but it wouldn't protect him forever. He should get word to his family. It was the sensible thing to do.

He didn't want to be sensible. He didn't want to be the damsel they rescued from himself again and again. This sort of chance might never come again. He wanted to take it. Risks and all.

Ezra worried at his lip.

Morgan held his hands up before the fire, wood in the grate popping cheerfully as it caught. A little noise of pleasure rumbled in his throat.

A vacation, he had said. Ezra had never had one of those either. Not as a human might understand the term anyway. With his family ever hovering, every day felt a little the same. Only locations changed.

"It's a little lonely though, isn't it?" Ezra said, mouth moving on its own.

"Maybe that's what I like about it."

"You don't sound sure."

"And you suddenly know me so well, huh?" He shifted to look at Ezra, face only a thin veneer of amusement over the real irritation beneath.

"I know enough. You're here in the middle of nowhere, with me your mortal enemy, instead of your human home with your human family celebrating your human holidays. Isn't that what most people do?"

"Holidays are overrated," Morgan grumped. But he wouldn't meet Ezra's eye. He stood, brushing off his knees.

Maybe it took one runaway to recognize another.

Ezra pulled his legs beneath him and sat up. "I'm sorry. I suspect that was rude."

A thin smile cracked through Morgan's frown. "Little bit. Since you're handing out apologies, does that mean I get one for the hole in my arm now too?"

"No. But if you ask nicely, I could kiss it all better." His lips curved up into a perfect bow as he batted his eyelashes.

Morgan paused in the process of walking around the couch so Ezra took the chance to move closer, crawling over the cushions that separated them. It wasn't subtle. He didn't want it to be. His aim was the exact opposite of subtle.

The hunter cleared his throat. "You—you're a lot different from what I expected."

"So you keep saying. I'm prepared to take that as a compliment." Ezra reached out slowly, waiting for the hunter to stop him as Ezra's fingers grazed the back of his hand, his wrist, and moved higher.

"I think it might be." Morgan's eyes dropped to where Ezra touched him. He didn't move away. Didn't pull the knife they both knew he had. That seemed like a dramatic improvement in their relationship already. Ezra leaned further forward until he could just smell all the little scents that made up the hunter, skin and snow and the chocolate from earlier. And blood. Blood and chocolate were quickly becoming his favorite combination.

His grip was loose as he lifted the hunter's hand. He turned it to expose the calloused palm for his kiss. The first brush of his lips was answered by a low noise like something lodged in the hunter's throat. At the glide of Ezra's tongue, barely tasting, the sound grew louder, a fractional rise in the tone that made anticipation curl low in Ezra's belly. It slithered through him, sinking lower as he moved up along the hunter's arm. His lips brushed the blue veins at Morgan's wrist. The bandage on his forearm came away with hardly a tug.

Ezra had made a mess. It dimmed the pleasure of the moment, turned it cold, until he lowered his mouth to the ragged wound.

The hunter's opposite hand fisted tight in his hair. It held him in place. "No."

Ezra tipped his head against the hold just to feel the tug and prickle of control before he stilled again. A moan curled on his tongue. "Let me. Please," he breathed. "I can fix it."

The fingers in his hair flexed. Then slowly, slowly unclenched in silent permission. But when the hunter dropped his hand, Ezra pulled it back and guided it back into his hair. His raised his eyes to Morgan's and nodded. He didn't have to say the words. Pull it. Then he bent to lap at the wound with a flat tongue. One long swipe to warm the skin and then another. Moving from the wrist and up almost to the elbow, sucking a little to bring the blood back to the surface so he could seal the gash as he hadn't before. The taste of blood and salty skin filled his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut. The skin knit together as he kissed and sucked, red healing to pink, until there was nothing left but a faint scar. He licked a stripe over the whole of it just to be sure. When he'd finished, his lips rested against the pulse, breath fanning over warmed skin.

"Fuck, that was..."

Ezra had to agree. His breathing was slow and peaceful but his heart and mind were racing with need. Morgan's hand still rested on his head, absently carding through his hair. Little tugs setting off a tidal wave of shivers. He wanted more. Not with the desperate longing of hunger. He wanted this moment of peace to last, to stretch on and on until he'd had his fill. Just to stay this way.

Morgan gasped faintly, as if coming back to himself. He pulled his arm from Ezra's grasp. The hand in Ezra's hair slowly traced the path from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck before coming to rest beneath his chin. He tipped Ezra's face up until their eyes met.

Neither spoke. Ezra barely remembered how.

The only words he knew were more and please. Please more. Dear gods, more.

He shifted forward. A fraction of an inch.

It was an inch too much. The hunter stiffened and then he shot past Ezra and out into the cold, leaving the door hanging open behind him and leaving Ezra with no words at all.

*****

SHIT.

Shit.

What was he doing?

The wind was cold on Morgan's neck, already chewing through his shirt to freeze him solid because he hadn't even stopped to grab a coat before he ran. Again. He regretted it the second his boots hit snow, but he needed the space or he was going to explode. He was already so close it hurt.

Everything around him was snowy beauty, sparkling sun making the world look like it had been doused in glitter, and he had nearly fucked a vampire on the floor of his idyllic winter cabin.

Granted he hadn't asked yet if fucking was on the table—possibly literally—but something told him it was. He should have more objections to this eventuality than imminent rug burn. Wait, not rug burn. There weren't enough rugs for that. Floor burn?

He growled and scrubbed his hands through his hair.

Shit.

But this was who he was, wasn't it? The one who couldn't be happy in his family's happiness. The one who couldn't fall into line. The one who had to be different. The one who was still thinking about the filthy wonderful way it had felt a moment ago as Ezra worshiped him with nothing but lips and tongue and the way it would feel to strip him down to the skin and see if all the movies were right about how good fucking a vampire could be.

They were supposed to be enemies, weren't they? Mortal enemies, Ezra had said. Morgan's family would agree with that assessment. If they had a gospel, that was it. Find the monster, kill the monster. Nowhere in there did it say to suck the monster's dick.

But he was going to.

Morgan turned back towards the cabin and almost fell on his ass. Again.

Ezra stood right behind him, face twisted up into a snarl like death. For a fraction of a second, Morgan was almost afraid. But then he noticed the misty eyes and the tremble in those parted lips. What a strange vampire to be crying over a human.

"What the fuck was that?" Ezra jabbed a finger into Morgan's chest, forcing him back one step, then another as he advanced. "I thought something was happening between us and then you just—you just left me. What was that? If you don't want me then just say so or something instead of... running away..." He gasped, breathing shaky. One hand scrubbed at his cheek. He looked away with a huff, arms folded over his chest, and Morgan caught sight again of the mark on the side of his neck, the faint shadow of a bruise. His eyes narrowed. What had caused it? He wanted to know but now wasn't the time. Ezra might really bite him if he asked.

Instead he cupped the vampire's cheek. Or tried to. The touch was knocked away faster than he could see. It left his hand stinging.

"Come here," he said.

"No."

Morgan raised an eyebrow at the petulant tone and the sneer. He stepped forward to meet him instead, daring Ezra with his eyes. The vampire stared back. Unmoving. Eyes a wild tangle of emotion. They were so close their breath mingled in the frigid air, forming one big cloud of fog. Ezra's heels were rapidly sinking into the snow but he was still a few inches taller. Morgan had to look up to look him in the eye. Despite all that there was something small and eager about him. He'd all but purred earlier while he'd been bent over Morgan's arm. It was hotter than it had any business being. That look would haunt him to his grave if he didn't do something. Now.

So he kissed him.

Ezra made a small, high noise of surprise and then, as if that was all he had needed, he molded his body to Morgan's, arms coming up around his neck. He could have thrown Morgan across the clearing, but his touch was soft. Fingers inched tentatively up into his hair.

When Morgan pulled away, Ezra swayed forward, blinking lazily. One hand stayed twisted into Morgan's collar as if fearing he might disappear if he was let go.

"I do want you," Morgan said softly.

"You do?" Hope flared in his eyes.

"You're not gonna mist away on me again, are you?"

"No."

"Good."

Ezra's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because I was planning to do this." Ezra was surprisingly light as Morgan hoisted him off his feet and over his shoulder. He'd always wanted to try doing that, but nowhere in his imaginings had it ever been a vampire he was carrying away. It startled a noise out of the vampire, his legs kicking reflexively as he tipped upside down. Morgan swatted his ass gently. "Don't move or I might drop you."

He was answered with a breathy little groan. He took that as agreement.

Ezra's boots dripped slush down Morgan's front, but it was hard to mind when it came with mile long legs and the sounds Ezra didn't even seem to realize he was making like quiet pleas.

"Where are you taking me?" His hands clutched awkwardly at Morgan's back, looking for somewhere to rest.

"Well there really aren't a whole lot of choices at the moment so it's basically the cabin or... the cabin. Take your pick." He nudged the door open and paused. He hadn't thought past the part about getting inside and getting his hands on Ezra. His gaze fell on the table. That would do. He bent to set Ezra atop it.

Wide black eyes regarded him with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Ezra's hands pressed flat against the surface of the wood. He licked his lips. Then, without looking away, he leaned back and spread his legs, welcoming Morgan in. They fit together perfectly. He placed his hands over Ezra's. "I don't usually do things like this," he admitted. "Ever." An understatement. He hadn't had a date in years, not since he'd given in to his family's demands to join the business and given up on normal, on trying to fake it because he'd known he was never going to be the real thing.

Ezra blushed. His cheeks puffed as he struggled for words. "I don't..." His sigh felt like an eternity. "I don't either. I mean—I haven't. Ever." His face was strawberry red. "Stop looking at me and say something," he demanded.

"Never? Not with a human or not at all? Not with another vampire?"

"They're family," he cried, rearing back so far he almost tipped off the table. "No."

"Oh."

"I know what I look like, how I act. You don't have to say it." He swallowed roughly. The blush spread to his ears and he looked down.

"I wasn't going to—"

"I wanted it to be... special. To mean something, at least to me. Maybe not romance and flowers and poetry, but something. And I've practically been under lock and key because of the fighting between the clans so there was never a chance anyway, not until now, so I thought never mind special and perfect, but then they took me and everything is a mess now so please just kiss me."

Morgan didn't need to be begged twice. Even though logic was screaming at him in the mingled voices of half his family. It didn't matter. None of it mattered as much as his hands on Ezra's thighs, pulling their bodies flush together, as he kissed him again. He expected the prickle of fangs, but there was nothing but soft lips against his. Ezra's arms circled his neck again. One leg wrapped around his hips and then the other followed.

"Okay but later we need to talk about whatever you just said," Morgan added, pulling back just enough to look the vampire in the eye. "I mean it." When Ezra frowned, Morgan kissed him, sucking at his lower lip and biting until he got another open-mouthed moan for his efforts. "I mean it."

Ezra nodded.

Morgan's hand moved under the sweater, smoothing over Ezra's stomach. He was trembling. Morgan didn't think it was all from excitement. "Nervous?"

In answer, Ezra yanked the sweater off and tossed it at the couch. When he laughed, his head tipped back in a move seemingly designed to give Morgan better access. "Fuck yes. But if you stop touching me right now, I'll never forgive you. I've wanted this so long." He bucked, rolling his hips against Morgan.

Without the sweater, Morgan could see the tattoos he'd only caught glimpses of before. They covered much of Ezra's upper body, words and some kind of sigils decorating him from hips to collarbones. He pressed his lips to a network of stars high on Ezra's shoulder. Connected the dots with his tongue. "What are these for? Does it mean anything?"

Ezra whimpered. "Family."

"And this one?" He traced delicate fingers along the string of characters that rested over the breastbone before he dipped in to taste them, enjoying every broken cry he caused.

Ezra's head dropped back. He was half lying atop the table now, only propped up by his elbows and willpower. "In occulto securitas. Our motto."

Morgan didn't understand but he nodded. He'd already spied his next target—a twisted vine that dipped low over Ezra's abdomen and curled around to his back. When he nipped at the sensitive spot over one hip, Ezra jumped and swore so Morgan sucked a mark into the skin, holding Ezra still while he writhed. So much power at his fingertips. All of it contained, leashed to his whims, while Ezra begged wordlessly for release. Morgan had never wanted to torment anyone so badly. To be paid in pleas and sobs. If this was going to be a first, he wanted it to be memorable, the kind of special Ezra would remember long after today and this cabin. Long after they'd gone their separate ways. Morgan wanted to write the memory into his skin just as deeply as all those tattoos.

He palmed Ezra's cock, still trapped beneath layers of fabric, as he lavished more attention on the lines curving over his skin. "Does this really go all the way around?"

Ezra answered with another of those beautiful shattered sounds and a nod.

"Show me."

He sat up shakily and shifted onto hands and knees on the table, legs spread to keep his balance, back arched, ass a perfect curve presented to him atop stiletto heels. It wasn't what Morgan had meant but shit, the sight went straight to his cock in a way he never could have foreseen. He was ready to build monuments dedicated to the sight of Ezra on his knees, trembling and needy. He wanted it branded into his memory. "Holy fuck, you're beautiful."

Another tattoo ran the length of Ezra's back, a masterpiece in ink. It looked like a tree but not any kind Morgan had ever seen before. The branches spread up from around Ezra's spine in barbed lines, weaving together like wings, one segment over each shoulder blade, before the branches bowed back down and terminated in a rain of red stars. Morgan spanned it with both hands before dipping in to kiss his way along each shoulder blade and the swirls of inked filigree that ran between them. By the time Morgan reached his waist and the final curves of the roots that wrapped around his hips, Ezra was panting hard, hips moving in a stuttering rhythm. His hands curled into fists.

Morgan grinned and twined the fingers of one hand with Ezra's on the table. They looked good like that. His other hand traced the curve of Ezra's ass, enjoying every flex of muscle and roll of hips as the vampire fought to stay still. Beautiful. And all his. Morgan kissed the nape of his neck. "What do you want?"

"You. I want you." A hungry noise spilled from his lips as he reached back and pulled Morgan's mouth back to his. "Tell me what to do. Please."

The ache in his voice had Morgan seeing some stars of his own.

"Then get down here and take your clothes off." His arms wrapped tight around Ezra's waist as he swung him off the table and set his feet on the floor so they could face each other.

Ezra's hands shook as he did as he was told, baring lean thighs and a straining cock, teetering on his heels when Morgan stopped him from doing more.

"No. Just like that. That's good." He kissed him one more time, tongue invading Ezra's mouth as he reached down to stroke him. There was a creaking sound as Ezra's grip tightened on the edge of the table, fingers sinking deep into the wood.

Morgan laughed. "Shit, you're beautiful," he said as he dropped to his knees.

*****

EZRA CAME APART. NOT just in fragments and slivers but everything all at once until he was nothing but raw nerves and need and fire. Bright and gold and please please please don't stop. He must have said the words out loud because Morgan laughed, the vibrations of it buzzing against his cock as Morgan took him into his mouth. Ezra clutched desperately at the table. His legs shook. His breath lodged in his throat.

Morgan licked and sucked his way from root to crown, fingers so tight on his hips it seemed like he might even be able to keep Ezra from flying away. He held him, held him still, held him here. Ezra narrowed to a series of bright points. A constellation of every place Morgan touched him. Fingers on his hip. Sliding down to his thigh. Morgan's mouth surrounding him. His tongue. Oh gods, his tongue. Everything about it was warm and sweet.

It lasted too long and not nearly long enough before Ezra came, one long moan torn out of him as he fell back across the table breathing hard. Behind his eyelids everything was bright. His body felt boneless. Pliable. It took all his effort to breathe and hold onto Morgan's shoulders. He didn't argue as Morgan removed one boot then the other and set them carefully aside before freeing him from the tangled legs of his pants that had hobbled him and kept him from kicking. He knew he had tried. His skin prickled with awareness, cool air wrapping around him before it was replaced by the warmth of Morgan's body carrying him to the couch.

"I can walk," he said, nestling his head against Morgan's shoulder.

"I like carrying you though. I like that you let me."

Ezra's hand rested on Morgan's stomach. "But we didn't finish. Did we?" It was hard to think around the relaxed haze overtaking his brain. No wonder people liked sex so much if it made everything this soft when it was done.

"Oh, we definitely did."

A kiss landed on the top of his head.