Night Train to Naples
Carolina ValdezAvailable from Amber Quill Press
| ...The excitement of tthe fight, the smell of Guido's blood made Alex's need to either feed or fuck surge through him like a tsunami. The salty scent of the blood pulled at him like a powerful magnet as his dick fattened and his pucker tightened. The feelings were pure pleasure and not to be denied. On impulse, he reached down and gave the man Dante a hand up, then he gazed into Dante's eyes as he drew him close inch by inch, ready to release him at the slightest resistance—and hoping he'd be able to do so. In the breathless silence that followed, he cupped his hands and cradled Dante's face in them. Slowly, he ran his thumbs over Dante's cheeks, enjoying a heat so different from the unnatural coolness of his own. "Are you sure you're all right?"
Dante's warm breath held the faint hint of a mellow wine. His gaze locked on Alex's and he spoke in a breathy voice, as if entranced by the hands on his face. "Mostly shaken up. My arm and throat will be sore tomorrow, but I'm okay." Alex's plan to demand he be told why this human followed him, dissolved. Instead, unable to resist his urges, Alex leaned in to capture the seductive lips with his mouth. Thoughts of anything else fled. Dante stiffened, and Alex thought perhaps he'd been wrong, perhaps this man wasn't gay. Or maybe he wasn't as attracted to Alex as Alex was to him, or as stirred up from the fight as he was. Then, as Alex softened his mouth and deepened the kiss, Dante's body relaxed and he responded hungrily with an exploring, searching tongue, as if he, too, needed release in the aftermath of the attack—to let go off the fear and, in a good fuck, exhaust the stockpiled chemicals his body had triggered so he might fight or flee. Alex let his hard cock, its full veins thrumming hot against its velvety skin, press against an echoing erection that strained against expensive designer jeans and threatened to break through the fly. He couldn't have described in words how good, how necessary that felt. He slid his hands down the silk shirt covering Dante's shoulders and then around to his appealing ass to pull them even tighter together. Knowing how sore Dante's throat must be, he sent a soft trail of kisses away from the mouth and to the salty drink his throat offered. His felt his fangs come out, preparing to graze over or sink into the warm skin covering the tantalizing pulse and drink in the rich blood throbbing there. He groaned. And fought temptation. I can't do this. This Dante didn't see my eyes glow red, doesn't know what I am. Abruptly, he released the Italian and stepped away as his fangs retracted. "I apologize. It was the fight, you see." He kept his voice steady, his words formal while his body cried out to take this man, to push his cock hard against Dante's until it spurted and he bit. Drank...
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