The Melrose Coven
[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, vampires, werewolves, HEA]
In the midst of a war between vampires and werewolves that's been waged for centuries, King Kevyan Melrose lands an unexpected mate.
Dorian Keller, an outrageous, openly gay man, finds himself in a world where fiction is fact. Having the most gorgeous man he’s ever met tell him they are mated throws him for a loop, but hearing the man claim to be a vampire and learning that that he himself is a werewolf blows his mind and sends him running for the hills. But with the evidence put right in front of him, he is left with no choice but to adjust his thinking... especially since turning furry has become his new norm.
Walking back into the bedroom, he checked the walk-in closet, pulling out several articles of clothing only to return them back in frustration. Everything in the closet was too big for him, but since complaining about that was futile, he resigned himself to improvising. He had other things to think of, like escaping, and on that note, he picked out jeans and a shirt to go with it. Satisfied that the clothes at least appeared to be new, judging by the new cloth scent he sniffed on them. He drew the line at wearing someone else’s underwear, going commando.
His sense of fashion screamed at the clothes he wore and the way they made him look like a kid playing dress-up. Eying himself in the mirror, he got to work, pulling on a belt and using it to secure the jeans tightly against his body. He tucked the extra-long length of the shirt into the jeans, rolled the sleeves up until he was satisfied with his looks before running his hand over his hair to give it a somewhat respectable disheveled look before nodding his approval.
Marching toward the window, he peered outside, easily noticing the security stationed around as they heavily guarded the place. He was so screwed. Dammit! However was he going to escape? Not that there was a chance in hell of him charming his way out of here. The door opened behind him and, turning, he spotted the most gorgeous hunk he’d ever laid eyes on striding toward him.
Six feet three inches of washboard muscles glided toward him gracefully. The man was decked in white shirt and khakis, his dark hair falling around his shoulder in waves, begging him to run his fingers through them, his eyes a deep brown color, like chocolate melted for his enjoyment. High cheekbones led to steel jaws which just begged for his attention, and the man had the palest skin he’d ever seen, clashing against the color of his clothe. For no reason, he suddenly had the uncontrollable itch to rip those clothes off the man and swallow him whole.
When their eyes met, Dorian blushed at having being caught staring. He wiped his mouth, discreetly checking for drool. Raising his chin, he openly gave the gorgeous man a once-over, refusing to be intimidated or mocked for his efforts. The man had lickable muscles upon muscles, a narrow waist and powerful, long legs, which ate up the distance between them.
Alarmed, he glanced up at the man approaching him with an indecipherable look in his eyes and held his arms out, backing up until he came up against the window. “Don’t come any closer,” Dorian said, refusing to give the man the satisfaction of knowing how scared he was.
Thankfully, his words must have penetrated, because the man stopped and watched him with a predatory look in his eyes. Dorian’s breath caught, half fright, half desire, but he dared not move as he watched the man watch him.
“You are awake,” the man said, his voice strong and masculine, washing over Dorian, and waves of lust shot through his body.
Shaking his head, Dorian scoffed at the obvious statement. He was reluctant to show any outward emotion and wasn’t about to give in to his body’s demands until he was safe and safely out of danger. Apparently, Mr. Obvious must have noticed something, for amusement lurked in the depth of the stranger’s eyes and he was pinned with a narrowed gaze. Dorian shifted on his feet, hoping the stranger would break the eye contact; only luck didn’t seem to be on his side.
“How do you feel?”
“Great. I feel great. Now, where the hell am I and who are you?”
Mr. Drop-Dead Gorgeous scratched his chin, taking a step forward, to which Dorian promptly pressed himself against the window, supporting himself with both hands tightly gripping the ledge. The message got through loud and clear, for the man stopped abruptly, a pained expression in his eyes before turning away.
Guilt shot through Dorian and he ruthlessly pushed it away. After all, what did he have to be guilty about? For all he knew, this was his kidnapper, giving him a taste of what he’d missed since the week he’d been kidnapped, only to return him back to that terrible hellhole. He wanted out, knew by now that everyone he knew and loved would be out looking for him, and the thought pained him greatly. All he wanted was to just go home and forget about this episode, not discounting the fact that his kidnappers had to be caught to ensure his safety.
“Look. I don’t care who you are. If you want money, my parents would dish out enough for you to release me. I don’t know what you want and I don’t have any answers, so please, just…let me go.”
Kevyan turned to face the man before him, realization dawning and his lips turned down into a frown. “I do not know who took you. My men found you outside my estate. We’ve been waiting for you to wake and explain where you came from and which pack you belong to.”
“Belong to? I belong to no one, and who the hell are you, anyway?”
“King Kevyan Melrose. The head of my covens.”
Too engrossed in his feelings, he had no time to retreat or stop his body from doing what it wanted before he fingered Kevyan’s shirt and pulled the man to him, kissing him passionately. Their teeth clashed, tongue meshed against each other as they dueled together. Dorian was hot all over, dying with need to crawl into the man and never let go.
“I don’t know what came over me.” Dorian apologized as he pulled back. He stared into deep brown eyes and lost himself all over again. It was like a magnetic pull drawing him toward the other man, and of its own violation, his body sprang forward and smashed their lips together once more in a deep kiss.
“Oh, Kevyan.” Dorian moaned into Kevyan’s mouth, refusing to slow down.
All Dorian knew and wanted was to bathe in the feelings kissing Kevyan evoked in him. He wanted the other man with a fierce passion unlike any he had ever known before. It was exhilarating and scary all at once, and though he had no recollection of anything sexual happening between them, he felt a sense of déjà vu, as though this was what he was born for, who he was born for.
His hands were busy exploring the other man’s body, sifting through thick, coarse hair then down over hard, rippling muscles, and suddenly, the clothes between them became an annoyance. He wanted them off, wanted them naked and writhing together.
As Dorian brought his hand to rip Kevyan’s shirt open, the other man locked his hands in a tight grip, breaking the kiss at the same time. A whimper of need escaped Dorian’s lips and he gazed at the other man with pure, undiluted need, causing the other man to shiver. Dorian shamelessly followed, seeking the Kevyan’s lips but was held back in a tight grip.
Going for the full kill, Dorian gave the other man a soulful look with pouting lips, hoping the message got through. All previous inhibitions vanished in the face of such ecstasy, and Kevyan curled his fingers around the back of his mate’s neck and brought him closer, slanting his head and plunging his tongue deep, licking the inside of his mate’s mouth.
“Yessss. More. Give me more,” Dorian exclaimed breathlessly.
When Dorian moaned, Kevyan continued to savor the taste of his mate, masculine yet sweet. Their mouths melded together as he slowly lowered Dorian to the sofa. Their first time had been fast and furious, and although he had no patience to slow things down, Kevyan wanted to savor the feel of his mate in his arms before giving in to the desire to rip their clothes apart and take his mate wildly.
Kevyan nibbled and licked his way across Dorian’s jaw, sucking the earlobe into his mouth and pleasuring him there whilst releasing the buttons on Dorian’s shirt painfully slow. Once all the buttons were released, Kevyan pulled back to examine the flesh displayed for him.
“So gorgeous, my little spitfire,” Kevyan crooned.
Kevyan licked down the side of Dorian’s neck, over the man’s throat, all the while using his hands to explore the exposed chest. Kevyan nibbled on Dorian’s neck, biting and worrying the area. He had a strong desire to leave his mark on his mate and, with that target in mind, sucked on the skin, careful not to draw blood. When he was sure his mark was clearly visible, he leaned back slightly to admire his handiwork.
“Perfect. You are perfect for me.”
Kevyan crawled on top of Dorian, straddling his mate but not giving him all his weight as he delved back into those tempting lips, sucking and licking before pushing his tongue inside. He swirled his tongue against Dorian’s, relishing the lusty moans which was being released. The heady taste of his mate on his tongue caused Kevyan’s dick to pulse as though he was already inside that sweet haven, thrusting and claiming once more.