A Royal Craving (4 page)

P
rosper saw something in this boy that touched his soul, that connected them to each other. He did not feel self-conscious, as he did around even his own kind. He barely noticed his own failings.

His boy's lips were full and red, begging to be kissed.

Prosper brushed his thumb over them, watching green eyes focus on him. There was such chemistry between them. It risked setting them on fire, if he dared move closer.

He had never been fond of fire or flames. Childhood experiences scarred even the strongest vampire, but he would suffer the flames for this boy. He would walk through fire to taste every curve of his body, every imperfection.

Prosper had a moment of pause, as he realised that no matter how perfect, this boy could never feel the same about his wasted, broken body. But that would not matter. “I do not want to frighten you, but I desire you more than I have ever desired another man,” he confessed, needing to express the truth of his feelings.

He knew the risk; that this boy might believe himself a sacrifice to appease the King. He might consider himself a payment of gratitude, for the safety of his family. Prosper could not bear if it were true, but did not know how to ask.

“You are the first man I have ever desired,” the boy returned the compliment. His lips parted and the boy turned his head, never breaking the hold of their steady gaze, to graze a kiss over the pad of his thumb.

It sent shivers down his spine.

The boy was brazen, indeed.

Prosper lowered his head to dark hair and inhaled the deeply intoxicating scent. The lad's essence, the smell of his blood, the sound of his heart beating, was dizzying. He kissed his earlobe and tugged on it with his teeth, as the young, supple body relaxed against his.

He should back off. It was this boy's first night and Prosper knew nothing about him. He did not want this lad to feel indebted or risk giving his heart to a human who wished to take advantage of his riches and power.

Prosper kept moving closer.

His hand followed the curve of a malnourished waist and the boy trembled, closing his eyes. They opened to reveal heat and hunger of the like he had never known.

Prosper nipped his exposed neck, before risking another glance into those green eyes. He touched his chin and tilted his head up, until the boy looked at him. “You are completely untouched?” he asked, his non-existent pulse racing.

The young man nodded and Prosper's eyes ran over him, in wonder. How did no one else see the incredibly provocative man inside this child?

“Then I shall not take your innocence this night. You are here to stay and deserve a courtship.” He would not give in to his emotions.
This boy deserved to be courted and treated with respect, not pounced on by an emotionally deprived vampire. But, as he realised how greatly he had been deprived of love, his fear resurfaced.

“Why are you here?” Prosper asked, requiring an explanation.

“You will not be angry with me?” the boy asked, carefully.

“Not if it is the truth.”

“As a free citizen, I choose to be here,” he answered, as his hands pressed against his own stomach. He looked nervous, for the first time. “Forgive me, but you do not rule my home yet and have no authority over me. If you were to command that I stay or leave, I would not obey,” he confessed.

The boy swallowed and held his gaze, as his right hand shakily left his stomach. A fingertip brushed the button of Prosper's shirt, though the boy looked terrified, as he pressed his hand over Prosper's still heart. “I am here because I wish to be. Because it is my destiny,” he whispered.

Time stopped, as Prosper stared into those honest eyes and the boy stared back. When he opened his mouth, the child rushed to beat him to it.

“You promised you would not be angry,” he reminded him.

“I am not,” Prosper promised, confused about why he should be. This nineteen-year-old human had just said the most wonderful, heartening words he had ever heard. He was not in his home to pay a debt or become a sacrifice. He was an innocent boy, following an unmarked path to his fate.

The boy blushed, then looked up through dark eyelashes. “Then perhaps you are hungry, after your long trip?” he asked.

Prosper blinked away his surprise. How did this child know it had been a long trip?

“I am. But I shall not feed from you.” He smiled, to reassure him. He refused on the grounds of the boy's safety. He could not risk feeding and being intoxicated by his taste; he may never stop. And he did not wish to drain this remarkable human dry.

Green eyes blazed at him, with a warning fire. “You are mistaken if you think I will permit otherwise. If you wish to put your hands on me, I will be the
only
one you feed from,” he challenged.

Prosper delighted in his argument. But, in this, he could not take the chance. “You have spirit, little one. I know I will greatly admire you for that, one day,” he admitted. How could he not appreciate this passion in such a young soul?

“Do you submit to my wishes?” the youngster asked, with an infuriated sigh.

He raised an eyebrow at his insistence and bravery in challenging not any vampire, but the King. Prosper leaned in, basking in his closeness and nipped the boy's lower lip. He could not deny that he longed to taste him. “I do,” he whispered his submission.

Before he could rethink his decision, he kissed the boy deeply, his body humming with need, when he responded. Light hands touched his bare arms, sending a shock of sensation through his body.

The lad seemed unsteady on his feet and Prosper wondered if he felt the same dizzying sensation when they touched. He had never shared a kiss with someone before and did not know the proper etiquette on how long to wait before a simple brush of lips was not enough.

The boy's lips slid from his own, as he sank onto his heels. Prosper had not noticed the great distance between them. Yet, when he looked for a sign of regret, he saw none. No revulsion, from feeling the scar that travelled down his cheek and over the left side of his lips. Nothing to suggest he was horrified by their touch.

“You are very tall,” the boy noticed, just before he beamed a radiant smile. “Will you meet me half way, Master?” he asked, softly.

Incapable of speech, Prosper acted. He let his hand cradle the back of the boy's head. The moment he leaned in to kiss him again, his companion met him halfway, brushing a brief kiss onto his lips. Then they parted over his bottom lip and sucked lightly.

He sucked the very scar Prosper had worried he would detest, shooting pleasure through his sensitive nerves.

Prepared for the second kiss, he parted his lips to let his tongue taste the inside of soft lips. He was met by an enthusiastic response; a tongue touching his, a faint moan and the boy's attempt to push higher onto his tiptoes.

The magnetic chemistry demanded he never stop kissing this boy.

Prosper could not contain the moan of arousal as he kissed his young man, exploring his mouth eagerly. Once he had the reassurance of the lad's returned kiss, he moved on.

He parted from their kiss to lavish a young, supple neck with appreciation. Unable to resist, Prosper let his vampire teeth respond to the thudding pulse that beat at his senses. He licked them, to ensure a pain free bite and let them sink into the soft flesh, groaning as blood filled his mouth.

The boy gasped and his head lolled back, freely offering more.

Prosper drank eagerly as fingers grasped his hair. He was so high on desire that his knees shook.

He relocated them with his preternatural speed, to lay the boy on the bed and hover over him. He savoured the way fingers clawed at his hair, as their bodies came into contact.

With the boy's body supported by the bed, Prosper forced his hands to still, refusing to let them wander. He had no right.

The lad had offered his blood freely, not his body. But the temptation remained. He wanted to feed on this electrifying boy forever, to savour the taste of his blood, the touch of his body beneath his hands.

He could not stop himself; his companion moaned as Prosper used his mind to disintegrate their clothing and allowed their naked bodies to touch.

Prosper pressed down on the willing body beneath him. They both wanted this; he wanted this boy's hot, sweet body surrounding him. But he knew better. He wanted to give him a courtship and had ruined that. He would not take his innocence in this frantic way.

He used his thumb against the boy's jaw to tilt his head, as he fed greedily. If he did not stop soon, the boy would pass out, but Prosper could not find the will to stop. He hungered like he had never before.

He revelled in his power. This beautiful, innocent boy was his; beneath him, his to control, his to do whatever he desired. His baser instincts screamed to drain him dry, but his human nature said to claim him. He could not decide what he wanted to do first.

When the boy's movements hindered, he knew he had gone too far. His hand slipped between strong thighs, as his young friend squirmed, rubbing cold, bare skin against his hand.

He was cold as ice.

Prosper realised that, beyond wanting to make love to this boy in his clutches, he wanted to protect and care for him. If cold, he would warm him. If he hungered, he would feed him. If unwell, he would care for him.

The revelation hit him with force.

Prosper groaned and backed away. His hand stilled between the boy's thighs, pushing into the mattress.

The guilt overwhelmed him.
His thirst was satisfied long ago, yet he had continued feeding.

He gazed at the unnamed beauty beneath him and wondered at this strange twist of fate. Rosy lips parted in pleasure, cheeks flushed, his human's responsive body moulded to his.

Why did the child want him? Whatever reason, Prosper refused to be an overbearing monster or Vampire Master. Not to this incredible boy.

P
rosper forced himself from his new obsession and lay on the bed, breathing hard. He had never felt this way before. He had never been desired or gone as far with anyone as he had with this boy, barely out of his childhood. What had he been thinking?

If he had persisted with his exploration, he felt sure the teenager would have allowed it. The revelation astounded him.

The men his father had paid to teach him about love, passion and sex had been horrified by him. He had not had the heart to tell his father that they refused to touch him. They had granted neither knowledge nor a kiss, to teach him what it meant to be with another man.

Everything he knew, he had learned from books and vampires who had lived through the years of acceptance for gay men and women.

A man of many moods, his father had never been ashamed of his son's proclivity for other men. It had been considered a sign of nobility, from the days of old, when a vampire took companionship with whomever they desired. The days of grand balls and claiming whichever human took their fancy were over. But acceptance remained in the vampire community, though the humans had forgotten their well fought battles against discrimination.

Now he knew why he took the risk of accepting the beauty beside him into his life. This boy was his life mate. Though rarely human, this boy was the one person in the world who understood and had the capability of loving him.

Vampires were the only species left on Earth who were granted such a gift. The knowledge was instinctive, when a soul spoke to another soul. No outward appearance mattered when it came to a life mate; only the nature of the soul. They completed each other, in a way that extended beyond the physical.

This boy had been born to love him.

“I may never feed from you again, if it is always this pleasurable,” he said, barely able make sense of the world.

This boy was young, pure and a human. His deafness was not physical or obvious to the world, the way his scars were. Yet, he knew how it felt to be branded useless, unworthy and unwanted. And he wanted him. Prosper's attraction could not be one sided and the boy did not appear to be with him to repay a fabricated debt. This boy truly wanted him, with the same fierceness Prosper felt in return.

He laughed; after long years of waiting, someone felt a real emotion for him.

Jolted from his revelry by fingertips on his chin, he turned to face his new companion.

“Why are you laughing?” the boy wondered, frowning in confusion.

Prosper turned onto his side, facing the boy who watched him closely. “I am sorry. It will take time to become accustomed to your needs. I said I may never feed from you again, if it will always be this pleasurable. I will have no resistance to your charms,” he admitted, elaborating on the feeling.

“Perhaps you should continue feeding from me
for
that reason,” he teased, in return.

“I have never had a man, little one,” Prosper confessed. “These scars came as I turned of age to experience love. No one has ever seen beyond my burns,” he explained, unashamed to tell someone who understood.

The boy lost his smile, while a tenderness took place in his eyes. “Then you have suffered greater than I. I have never known sound, so cannot miss it,” he proclaimed, with gentleness. “You must face a stranger in the mirror,” he soothed, touching the burns on his face.

Prosper held his hand there, unafraid of his touch because the boy was unafraid. Sensing no trace of disgust or falsehood in this child, Prosper pressed a gentle kiss into his palm. “You are the only one who has ever understood,” he confided.

His family tried, but they could never know the truth. Sienna hid from the world, knowing herself to be cured soon; Prosper did not have that luxury. His scars would never fade.

“I do not know your name.” Prosper watched the boy, captivated by the flush that came to his cheeks, in embarrassment. “I am Prosper. I have a brother and a sister. Parry is wild and will be most intrigued by you. I doubt you will see much of Sienna; I infected her,” he confessed, until he realised what he said and how it sounded. “Not for life. She is nearly fully recovered and I believe she has taken a fancy to one of our servants,” he clarified, ready to share his life.

“Also like family are our servants. You will meet them soon; but I would suggest keeping an eye out for Davian,” he hinted, with a smile. “He and Parry have the oddest relationship and the boy is quite tempestuous. I believe his fire has something to do with Parry's insistence that he remain unbitten. It is quite odd,” he confessed.

The boy gave him a look that said he would let his comment about Sienna pass for the moment. “I am Spencer. My mother and father are Theora and Ronald. You have met my sister, April; she is seven.” He returned the introduction, in a soft voice.

“Do you mind...if I ask...” Prosper wondered. When the boy gave no hint of refusal, he continued. “You were born deaf?” he guessed.

“Yes.” Spencer nodded, in confirmation.

“Then you learned to speak?”

Again, he nodded. “There is a practice called oralism. It is ancient, but it is the only tool available to teach a deaf child to speak, that we may pretend to live a normal life,” he explained, with a hint of something that suggested he loathed the word 'normal'.

Prosper understood that feeling. He had never been considered normal, after the accident. “You must have suffered greatly, to speak as any other would,” he said, acknowledging the hard work and determination the child must have shown.

“It was difficult,” Spencer admitted. “My father had been well off, when I was born, so could afford to pay for schooling. I had special cards, with facial expressions drawn on them, and words on the other side. I learned that certain shapes of my mouth could create certain words,” he clarified, fascinating him.

“I still have some trouble,” he continued, looking away for a moment. “I cannot always remember to inflect words properly or modulate my tone so I do not bore people to sleep.” He chuckled, in false amusement.

Prosper kissed him, before he could drift too far into sad thoughts. He must have had a lonely childhood, studying hard to speak while never able to hear his own voice or his progress. He would have been unable to communicate with most children, until his abilities with speech improved. Not many humans knew sign language anymore.

Spencer flushed, as he retaliated with a question. “Why do you use the word 'infect'?” he wondered, with a hint of disapproval.

As he had every right to know, Prosper made a choice. To explain Sienna's condition, he must explain his own.

“My father was a scientist, fond of chemistry.” He began at the beginning, where every story should start. “Parry and I are twins, thus my father devised a potion to determine the best leader for our people. I volunteered to go first; I would be in danger if it did not work and Parry would be spared,” he explained.

Spencer moved closer and curled up at his side.

Prosper fashioned a woollen blanket to cover his exposed skin. “In short, the potion set me on fire. My skin began smoking and went up in flames,” he continued, to give him an idea of how frightening it had been. “Where I did not burn, long nails clawed at my skin. A whole chunk of flesh tore from my side,” he confessed, managing to remain impartial because Spencer's soft fingertips moved over his upper arm.

This sweet child, young and human, was trying to soothe him. He had never known another human like him.

Prosper lowered the left side of the sheet, to expose his abdomen. He still had a scar from where his vampire DNA had attempted to heal the wound, during his turning. He smiled, as Spencer brushed his finger against it.

“It must have been terrifying for you,” he admitted, with a troubled frown.

“Yes. I was fifteen at the time; still with the ability to age,” Prosper admitted, unaware of what this impoverished young man knew about vampires. At sixteen, their bodies naturally transformed into an adult vampire. “Nothing cured the potion. Every few years I get a new scar, a new onset of pain. It lingers and lasts or will disappear after a moment,” he explained, the moment Spencer's eyes were on his lips.

He wanted to emphasise that his life remained unpredictable. He did not know if he would have the immortality of his people. “My hair and body age at a rate slower than most humans but faster than a vampire. My future is uncertain.”

“That is how you became King? Your father acknowledged your self-sacrifice as the sign of a true leader?” Spencer guessed, with a smile.

“No, little one. Parry abdicated,” Prosper corrected his assumption, with curiosity. “He saw what I had suffered and, as you say, deemed my sacrifice worthy of a leader,” he confessed, surprised by Spencer's reaction. “My father could not bear to offer the throne to Sienna and she has never been happy about that,” he said, amused by the way Spencer slid forward and curled up against his chest.

“I am sorry your family did not understand the immense sacrifice you made,” he apologised. “You were noble, offering yourself to this experiment that has ruined your existence and chance of happiness, to save your brother from harm,” he mused.

Fascinated by the way his mind worked, Prosper realised that Spencer thought him a hero and Parry's protector. When their eyes met, he smiled in wonder. “You have the most extraordinary mind, little love,” he approved, kissing his forehead.