“Take care of it, Angelus.”

Her tone is calm, like her face, the face of a Madonna and the body of a whore. Such a tiny waist, just made for my hands to wrap ’round and pull her in. I bend my mouth to hers, intending to kiss away her argument.

“You’ll not sway me with kisses… but you’re free to try.” Sweet lips hiding that venom-sharp tongue I love to be cut to ribbons by. With a groan I release her and stalk toward the window, staring angrily at the street beyond.

“Take care of it, woman? What would ya have me do then? Reason with him? Beat it into him?”

I can hear the smile in her voice, and wait for the first lash. “Well, neither worked particularly well in your upbringing.” There’s the gentle slide of kid gloves over her fingers. “I suggest you find another tack.” I hear the almost-silent whisper of her gown across the carpet towards me, then a small hand turning me toward her.

“That little scene back in Yorkshire?” A man my size shouldn’t cringe at the grip of her delicate fingers on my arm. But a demon my size should tremble before her flashing eyes. “I’ll never see you raise a stake toward one of our own family again, shall I beloved?”

Reaching up, one gloved hand finds my neck and pulls me down to her mouth. Heaven and hell are this woman’s lips, and she is well aware of it. With a sigh she pulls back from me, glancing to the window at my back. “Drusilla is singing to the driver, I’d best be off.”

Fastening her cloak about her she gives me one last look. “Promise me, Angelus, when I return, you’ll have the situation well in hand.”

With all courtly grace possible I lift her hand, kissing the pale wrist and winking up at her, “To be sure, my love.”

“To be sure.” she echoes. “Because the next time we are chased by a mob, I will feed you both to them.”

I smile grimly at her threat, knowing how truly she means it.

With a last glance around the room, she turns and leaves me with her scent and the maddening promise I’ve made her.

I frown for a moment at the closed door. It won’t do to disobey the lady of the house, but beating some sense in to him, although a tempting thought, hasn’t worked thus far. Surely there another way…

It’s clear I need to find him and take of this problem.

I discover him in my room, slumped in an old chair near the hearth, looking for all the world like a young boy who’s had his toys taken from him. I know how he feels.

“They’ll return in a fortnight. Only left for shopping, lad.”

His body stiffens at the sound of my voice and he rouses himself from his cozy spot by the fire. The only warm room in the house right now, I can see why he chose it.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” The boy’s voice is brittle and the words clipped with tension.

“No.” I say it softly and ease myself into the chair he’s vacated.

Mary, mother of God, I could almost laugh at the way his body freezes at the doorway. What the hell… I let out a chuckle.

“Come back here, William.”

He whirls on me, his hair flying a bit wild, his body primed for a fight. “Spike! The. Name. Is. Spike !”

This is where I am supposed to react as he expects. I should leap out of my chair, grab him by the scruff of his collar and slam him into the nearest hard object. My fist, the wall, whichever is handiest.

Instead I smile at him slowly and indicate the rug in front of me. “Here, by the fire where it’s warm.”

“M’not your dog!” He’s a little put off by my calmness, and sounding quite sullen.

My voice is calm; my tone is low. “Of course not, lad. I’d put a dog down for putting my women in danger.”

There’s real fear in him now, rolling off him like bitter incense. That’s not what I really want from him at this moment, but I can’t let him forget what he’s done.

I soften my words a little. “You’re not a dog, William. Not a pet. I don’t allow my dogs in my bed.” His eyes flicker hotly to my own. “But don’t be mistaking me, lad. You are mine.”

He’s silent, simply staring at me, no doubt wondering what in hell I’ll say next.

“Leave it out, William. I want you here. Come.”

He actually stumbles when his body jerks forward. Nothing like a Sire’s whims to keep you off balance – something I know quite intimately, and a fact I plan to use to my advantage.

I see the moment when he catches on to his body’s betrayal and moves to turn and walk out. One hand out, and I have his wrist in a bone-crunching grip. “A dog’d be better behaved than you; need I put a collar on you?” His breath catches sweetly, and I do so love to make him breathe.

I’m pulling him to me, and he has no choice but to come where my hold leads him. Standing in front of me now, and I move him roughly into my lap. He tries to pull away, and I let him so his body tilts back and he must either fall… or hold on. Good choice. His hands are on my shoulders and he’s looking down on me with shock and more than a little anger.

“Ya want to bugger me, Angelus? Why not bend me over and do it on the bed, proper-like?” Oh ho – bravado in my young cock. This will be like breaking him all over again, and isn’t that a thought to keep me warm on this cold night?

I run my hands down his sides, feeling his body thrumming with the need to fuck or fight, not entirely certain I will give him either. Well… not yet.

He expects this to be rough and fast, like so many of our couplings have been of late, and perhaps that’s where I’ve erred. There’s still that bit of the poet in him, the artist who needs to ache and agonize. Surely I can offer him a bit of suffering.

My hands are still roaming over him slowly, and I can feel his body gentling reluctantly, like a wild thing, his eyes going a bit glassy as my thumbs press steadily up his thighs. Ah, it’s a terrible thing to be a slave to your body, isn’t it boy? So easy now for him to bend to my waiting lips, where I lick softly – because you should always set the trap with something sweet. Simple to open that waiting mouth with my tongue, feel his body sink onto mine – for the trap should not be recognized by your prey. Lovely, really, the way this boy turns from fighter to lover in a moment… let’s see if I can turn him back again.

“Will, lad… I’m after seeing more of your skin. Pull that shirt up for me. Ah, that’s it…”

And as the shirt comes over his head, baring those strong young shoulders I pause to marvel at the simplicity of my plan, and then I surge forward, pulling his arms back, twisting the fabric to imprison his arms behind him. Sudden thrust of my thighs and his legs are pinned to the sides of the chair.

Anger is emblazoned across those sharp features as he struggles in my grip, but it’s worth the uncomfortable position to enjoy the futility of his lithe body thrashing atop my own.

“Angelus! What the devil are you – !” His invective is lost in a groan as my mouth covers one nipple in a soft suck, veering into a choked-off scream as I bite down – hard. I pull back just enough to admire the irregular line of teeth marks around that hardened nub before I go back to flicking the tightened flesh with my tongue, reveling in the feel of his body jerking to each brush.

I relax my grip a little, letting him rest a moment before I respond.

“I’m after giving you what you wanted.” Most obvious thing in the world, I can’t imagine why the lad doesn’t see it himself.

He’s staring at me dumbly. “What I wanted?”

“Back at that mine… you said you preferred being caught to being hunted. And I caught you, William. Eight years ago, under a yellow streetlamp.” My fingers moving up to graze against that mark – my mark – on his neck. “Tell me now, you remember?”

“Yeah.” Breathy little word as his hips buck up in reaction to my touch. As it should be.

“Really? It would seem you’d forgotten. Seems to me my William could do with a reminder.”

I’ve let go of his arms with my other hand, but he keeps them behind him.

Prefers to be caught? The boy loves it.

I have to stare at him, really see this beautiful boy that I own, arched and bound over my lap like some sort of sacrifice. Eyes closed as he trembles, his cock straining against his trousers, the wetness beginning to seep through. As his body waits. For me.

And I do nothing.

Blue eyes shocked open now and staring at me with… desperation, dangerous like a cornered animal. As if he has no idea how he came to be half-naked and imprisoned by my thighs. And like a creature surrounded, he attacks wildly, hands freed and grabbing at me, straining to pull my arms around him, his mouth seeking mine.

I’ll have none of that, and instead reach up and grab a handful of his hair, stilling him, forcing him to look at me.

“Undressed. On the bed. Now, William.” Emphasis on the name, because this is a battle I’ll win. Foregone conclusion.

With a shove he is off me and scrabbling at his clothes with earnest hands. Gone is the challenging youth, replaced by this creature trapped by his own need. Spread out for me on my bed like a feast, and oh, it’s good to call this mine.

I’m not rushed to remove my own clothing, indeed, I feel the urge to do so slowly and watch the heat build in his gaze. I wrap lazy fingers around my own hardness as I move over him, lowering myself until my knuckles brush his length as I caress myself. Too easy to swallow the groan he lets loose at this lightest of touches. A gentle kiss, but he wants no softness and eager hands are pulling me down, a greedy mouth suckling my tongue.

“Easy lad, we’ve all night to play,” I whisper softly into his open mouth and am rewarded with a low growl.

Fastening my teeth lightly to the delicate skin of his neck, his body freezes for a moment before he goes still beneath me, surrendering completely. Perhaps the boy knows his place after all.

I move up and press my lips against his ear. “What is it you’d want of me, Will? What is it you need at this moment?” My teeth grazing against the soft whorl, oh this lad is my temptation, “Tell me.”

His breath catches at that. It’s rare enough that I take this kind of time with him, much less offer him a choice. But this isn’t the shy virgin of eight years past, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Your mouth.”

Does he think to have me so simply? He does. Well, never let it be said I go back on my word to my family. With a smile of my own I move down his body.

My boy. My time. I’ll take both as it pleases me, and right now it pleases me to map his flesh with my mouth. Delights me to lick patterns over quivering flesh and kiss-suck bruises laid like flowers across his torso. Mark him and make him beg for less, for more, as my path leads down.

Down and I’m at his hips. Entranced by that jut of a curve that begs for my tongue, where the skin is perfect and smooth and taut. Translucent and it holds the tattoo of my teeth like the perfect canvas.

I can just make out the chant he’s breathing past bitten lips, “Your mouth. Your mouth.”

“Aye lad, I promised, didn’t I?”

Grasping those thighs and pressing back, making him fold and catching his confused look as I bend my head lower, swipe my tongue across his sac then flick once against that puckered access and grin… as he howls.

I have to grab the backs of his thighs to hold his bucking body down as I lick again, this time pressing into that ring of flesh. Shaking hands brush against my mine as he reaches down to pull his legs back for me. Such a good pet, to come willingly into my trap. Spread wide, and I can feel the bed shake with his desire as his body opens to me. That hungry muscle welcoming my tongue, giving way to my wet ministrations.

I think he’s forgotten his native tongue, for all I can make out now are throaty moans and whimpers as I move my mouth over his hole. But I understand this language of hunger, speak it fluently, and I know he hears me with each stab of my tongue and suck of my lips over that reddened ring of flesh.

One hand cupping his backside, I feast on the feel of his muscles trying to clamp on me, pull me in. I would smile if I could at the way his body leaps as I close my fist around his wet length. He’s wild with it, not knowing whether to push into my grip or bear down on my tongue. So I give him both, pushing in and seizing him fiercely as he spasms out of his control, and into mine.

Mine, and I rear up to watch as he spills over my fingers. Grinning like the demon I am while his head thrashes on the pillow and he loses himself in the moment. Gathering up the wetness he’s sacrificed for me, I take two fingers and slick them quickly into him, no teasing in this touch. His eyes snap open at the intrusion, and I think he was so far gone in his pleasure he’d forgotten where he was. I’m here to remind you, boy.

Curl my fingers into him cruelly and drink up his gasps of almost-pain as that pressure has him hardening again. Too soon, Will? Not for me, for I’ve made this moment exactly as I would have it.

There. On his hip, my blood-tinged point of reference ready for my thumbs to grasp him there, his fulcrum, to bend him to my will. My desire, which is to bury myself in his body, go deep and brand him from the inside as my own.

I’m aching with the need for him; my hardness, long-tortured with his ecstasy, is pressing at his entrance, and I have to pause. Have to wait for him to catch up with the game. Just a nudge and he’s so loose and open, ready for me.

“Do it!” His gaze burning into me. Arms trembling as he holds his legs open for me. Almost…

Just a taste for him as I lean forward, the tip of me gripped in that vice slicked with our wetness, and he’s… breathing. Breathing for me. I’ve done this to him, I’ll do so much more, I just need him to…

“Please.” Broken whimper mismatched with the lust blazing in his eyes. All for me, and I take it in as his body accepts my first thrust. God, finally entering the wet haven I’ve made for myself – pressing in deeper and he’s grunting with the force and size of me.

Slow pull back and I feel his renewed hardness dragging along my belly, calling me to slam forward with a brutal thrust. Wild animal-like keening from that red mouth, and I have to give him more. Give everything to him, because every twitch of his muscles, every hard grasp of his fingers is begging for it. For me. And I won’t deny either of us this.

No longer drawing the moments out, I’m moving in and out of him at a furious pace. This is mine, this body, this pleasure, fine as gold and twice as precious. The body beneath me, twisting into my strokes, writhing on the bedclothes like a thing possessed, delivering his flesh up to me. So I take and take, pounding in until I feel his body shudder around me. Smell his wetness on the air before I feel it sealed and pulsing between our bodies. And it’s enough, it’s more than enough, it’s all I wanted from him. Surrender. Acceptance.

Throbbing and releasing deep inside him, I sense his languor at our shared completion. Sated, like a cat he licks his tortured lips and looks up at me, smiling and absolutely… captured.

I cannot help but lower my head to suckle at those bruised lips, and accept the welcome of his pliant mouth. Sweet boy with a devil inside him, but have I managed to fix him as Darla demanded?

He’s silent as he struggles to regain a sense of his body as his own, moves to wipe the fluids from our bodies. Too quiet, as he turns down the bed and watches me shift to my side, settling myself to my comfort. Positioning himself in front of me, he turns back toward the dying fire and sighs as I place an arm around him, pulling him to my chest.

My fighter, that I worked to capture, is tame in my arms for the moment – for I’m no fool, I realize it’s just this moment. But it is victory, however brief, and I allow myself a smile when he speaks, voice hoarse, his throat raw from crying out in pleasure.

“Angelus, if I forget again…”

“I’ll remind you, lad.”

“That’s good.”

Yes. It is.