Cole in his Stocking
The coming of age for any vampire is cause for celebration, a time when they first taste blood. For Cole, however, his twenty-fifth birthday brings a terrible choice from his father—either he takes the life of another to prove his worth, or he forfeits his own life.
Cole chooses the only way his heart will allow, and pays the price with both his fangs and the rapidly mounting blood starvation that will slowly end his life, now that his body needs to feed, but cannot. He escapes, bleeding, barefoot, and wearing nothing more than a simple cotton sleep-shirt. With his father’s sentinels in pursuit, Cole soon finds himself half-frozen and unable to run anymore. The last thing he expects when he crawls into a dumpster to hide away for the last few hours of his life is to be rescued by a temperamental black cat and…aww hell…his cherished one, Adam. How is Cole meant to blood-bond to the wolf hybrid when his time is fast running out, and he has no fangs to even try? He quickly learns his cherished is far more than he appears, though, and Adam’s friends at the Delta Rehabilitation Centre have even higher friends, with a score to settle with his father, of their own. It’s just a shame he won’t be around long enough to witness their payback.
A quiet request from the front seat had Adam jumping slightly.
“Unzip your jacket and unbutton your shirt. Let him get skin to skin, the same way they do to sick premature babies.” Dante’s voice was low, calm, but the look in his eyes told Adam that he meant business. He wasn’t joking around. He really wanted Adam to do it and to be honest, the thought of that kind of contact sent Adam’s heart skipping a few beats.
He juggled his armful to one side, freeing one hand as he unzipped his jacket and pulled it off his arm, weaving it behind him and swapping the hold he had on his bundle so he could untangle the jacket from his arm. The buttons were a little harder. Un-popping those in a moving vehicle proved to be quite a feat, but he managed and sent his navy shirt the same way as the jacket. Bared—if not slightly chilled—he pressed Cole back against him, gasping when the little man seemed to come to life in his hands.
Quite groggy, yet now struggling to open his eyes, Cole scampered upright, zeroing straight for Adam’s neck with his face. He pulled Adam close, almost purring in contentment as he ran his nose along the curve of his shoulder and up his neck, rubbing his slight stubble against Adams’ jaw and setting Adam’s cock plumping painfully in his jeans. Never in his life had he ever gone full mast that fast. In fact, he was positive the sudden rush of blood heading south was responsible for the slight dizziness he was now experiencing.
Warm wet heat lathed his neck, lips nibbling before opening and sucking up a spot just below his ear.
“Ahh fuck, Cutie. What are you doing?” He tried to pry Cole away, but the little vamp was surprisingly strong and held on, sucking harder as he nibbled and whimpered.
Adam caught Dante watching again through the mirror, and sent him an imploring look. “Do something. He doesn’t know what he wants. He thinks I’m Declan!”
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