Innocence to the Max E-Book

SJD Peterson

• Herausgeber: Dreamspinner Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 390

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

On his sixteenth birthday, Francisco "Cisco" Aguilar first sets eyes on Maximilian De Ferrari, owner of Wicked Grounds, an exclusive BDSM club. Cisco has been lost, unsure of what is missing in his life. Over a century old, Max leads a vampire clan, and Cisco is drawn to him in a way he can't explain. The moment he sees Max he knows his quest isn't about what he's been missing, but who. Five years' wait seems more than Cisco can bear, but he perseveres and on his twenty-first birthday he walks into Wicked Ground. He's unafraid to meet the vampire he's sure is his destiny. Max has been waiting for him, too. What Max has known all these years, and what Cisco soon discovers, is that more than fate is drawing them together. Iunctio Copula is a powerful binding link capable of restoring cold, dead hearts. With Max and Cisco bound, Cisco will be Max's greatest weakness. Unable to let Max go, Cisco is thrust into a dark world, where he's nearly powerless, left to fight for his life and his future with Max. Worse, he's at the mercy of those who will use him—and hurt him—just to get to the powerful vampire.

Leseprobe

Innocence to the Max

By SJD Peterson

On his sixteenth birthday, Francisco “Cisco” Aguilar first sets eyes on Maximilian De Ferrari, owner of Wicked Grounds, an exclusive BDSM club. Cisco has been lost, unsure of what is missing in his life. Over a century old, Max leads a vampire clan, and Cisco is drawn to him in a way he can’t explain. The moment he sees Max he knows his quest isn’t about what he’s been missing, but who.

Five years’ wait seems more than Cisco can bear, but he perseveres and on his twenty-first birthday he walks into Wicked Ground. He’s unafraid to meet the vampire he’s sure is his destiny. Max has been waiting for him, too.

What Max has known all these years, and what Cisco soon discovers, is that more than fate is drawing them together. Iunctiō Cōpula is a powerful binding link capable of restoring cold, dead hearts. With Max and Cisco bound, Cisco will be Max’s greatest weakness. Unable to let Max go, Cisco is thrust into a dark world, where he’s nearly powerless, left to fight for his life and his future with Max. Worse, he’s at the mercy of those who will use him—and hurt him—just to get to the powerful vampire king.

To Becca, who opened the door to my writing as well as to my love for vampires.

The Spanish name Francisco—from the Latin Franciscus, meaning “free man.” A strange name for a boy who yearns for nothing more than to be owned.

Prologue

FRANCISCO AGUILAR, known as Cisco to his friends and family, sat in the passenger seat of his best friend’s car, staring out at the city of Mecosta as it passed by in a blur of color. It shouldn’t have surprised him that he couldn’t figure out where he wanted to go or how he wanted to celebrate his sixteenth birthday. Cisco had been waiting for something to happen for as long as he could remember. He had no clue what he was waiting for, but whatever it was, it would change his world, that much he was sure of.

Growing up in the burbs just outside the city limits of Mecosta, the first ten years of his life had been the picture-perfect all-American childhood. He was an only child, raised by loving and doting parents. T-ball games at five, Cub Scouts, schoolwork, he and Benny finding the same trouble that many young kids found, but even then there was always something missing. He’d felt it before his dad died when he was eleven, and he’d felt it afterward when he spent more time with his nanny than he did with his mom. The feeling had been there long before any of it. Cisco couldn’t explain it; he only knew that deep inside, at his very core, he was waiting.

“Any idea where you want to go?” Benny asked as he turned down the radio.

They’d been driving around for the last hour and nothing had sparked even the slightest interest in Cisco. “I don’t know. Why don’t we head down to the strip and see if anything is going on?”

“Dude, nothing good ever goes down on the strip but trouble. I’m pretty sure that spending the night in jail or, worse, the hospital on your birthday isn’t what you had in mind.”

Cisco rolled his eyes at his best friend. Benny was the same age, but he always acted as if he was Cisco’s protector or something, probably due in part to their different personalities. Benny was outgoing and loud while Cisco tended to be a little more reserved, quiet. The other part, he was sure, stemmed from the fact that at sixteen, Benny was already pushing six foot and his frame was large and thick with muscles—good genes, as Benny’s dad was well over six foot, as were two of his uncles—while Cisco was celebrating reaching five foot four and a whopping one hundred and ten pounds.

You’re a fricking runt! Yeah, well, the birthday wish of a couple inches and twenty pounds had obviously been ignored right along with the wish for a Camaro convertible concept wrapped in Hugger Orange pearl tri-coat paint with twin gunmetal-gray sport stripes.

“C’mon, Benny, we’re not going to get into any trouble,” he promised. “I just like watching the people down there. We won’t even get out of the car.”

“Yeah, okay, just lock your door.”

Cisco rolled his eyes at his friend again, but he complied with the demand and hit the lock. “Happy?”

“Not really,” Benny huffed. But he turned the music back up, The Fray blasting through the speakers as he turned the car toward the downtown area.

They’d just pulled up at a light on the corner of Martin Luther King Boulevard and Ninth Street and were trying to decide which direction to go, when Cisco turned to stare out the window and the strangest feeling overcame him. His heart started to hammer, sweat bloomed across his brow, and he began to shake uncontrollably. Then Cisco spotted him. Leaning against a doorframe, partially hidden in the shadows, was a tall, broad-shouldered man, dressed in tight black leather pants, thigh-high black boots, and a white, elegantly ruffled nobleman’s shirt. His face was lost in the shadows, but Cisco could feel the man staring at him, looking inside him. A chill ran down his spine and his skin tingled as he felt the man’s gaze like a soft touch against his skin.

What the hell is wrong with me? He shook his head to try to dispel the odd feeling, but it only intensified as the seconds clicked by.

Cisco’s breath hitched, the rush of blood in his ears blocking out all sound, and his focus narrowed till everything but the stranger faded away. Although Cisco knew he wasn’t sleeping, it still seemed dreamlike, some unknown force holding him rapt. Mine, a voice whispered inside his head like smoke swirling, touching every part of him, the meaning elusive, difficult to understand, and evading capture.

Before he had the chance to leave the car, still reaching for the door handle with a trembling hand, the light turned green and Benny stomped on the gas.

“No!” Cisco screamed, wrenching his head around, trying to keep contact with the mysterious man. “Turn around, Benny! We gotta go back.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Benny kept driving, and Cisco lost eye contact. No, no, no! “That was him! Turn around.”

Cisco grabbed at the door handle and yanked at it, but the door wouldn’t open. Panic made his fingers clumsy as he fumbled with the lock, but before he could get it undone, Benny grabbed on to his arm and yanked him away from the door.

“What the hell has gotten into you? Jesus, Cisco, give me a minute and I’ll turn around. Who did you see?”

He met Benny’s concerned gaze as panic continued to bubble just under the surface of his skin, causing goose bumps to bloom along his flesh and his hands to shake. Cisco shuddered. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just know it was him.”

By the time Benny could make it through heavy traffic and back to the corner where Cisco had spotted him, the stranger was gone. Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over at the loss. Sixteen years he’d been waiting. As crazy as it sounded, he now understood what he’d been waiting for, but as a red light changed to green, he’d lost it before he even knew what it was that he had found.

BACK INSIDE his club, Maximilian De Ferrari leaned heavily against the closed door and shut his eyes. Behind closed lids, he could still see the dark, wistful eyes of the beautiful boy. Max placed a trembling hand over his now still heart. He could have sworn he’d felt a faint beat in his chest as he watched the boy. His heart hadn’t beat since he’d been turned nearly a hundred years prior, and yet he could have sworn he’d felt it. As absurd as it was, the memory of it still lingered, leaving him dizzy.

Years before, he’d heard rumors about such a thing happening. Max had searched every text he could get his hands on, trying to find anything, a single reference to what was known as Iunctio Copula, but in the end, he’d found nothing and concluded the rumors were false. A connecting bond between a vampire and his mate powerful enough to cause a dead heart to beat was ludicrous.

And yet….

As his mind had screamed mine, as he got lost in such an innocent soul, Max could have sworn he’d experienced something he had given up hope of ever feeling again.

“Angelo,” Max bellowed as he pushed away from the door. He’d felt something, dammit, and he wouldn’t rest until he knew who the beautiful boy was and what he had sparked deep inside a cold, dead heart.

Chapter One

Five years later.

MAXIMILIAN DE Ferrari, vampire and owner of Wicked Ground, is my destiny. Cisco had been certain since that brief encounter all those nights ago, and tonight he was finally ready to go after what he wanted. He had tried in vain to get another glimpse of Maximilian. Though he hadn’t had any success, he had the uncanny feeling that Maximilian was watching him. Periodically through the years, the hair at the nape of his neck would stand on end and an eerie feeling would wash over him. He’d felt eyes upon him numerous times. When he would turn around, however, there was never anyone there. But the feeling lingered as a tingling sensation on his flesh. The feeling had begun the same night he’d spotted Maximilian and he’d held on to the hope that it was indeed his stranger. That thought was what had gotten him through each day, that and his dreams of what meeting his Master would be like. Cisco wouldn’t wait any longer, though. Tonight was his twenty-first birthday; Maximilian—Max—could no longer keep him out. Tonight, he would finally be able to step through the doors of Wicked Ground and enter Maximilian De Ferrari’s world.

“Do you really think this is a good idea, Cisco?”

Cisco paused in his struggle with a pair of leather pants, which were possibly a tad more than a size too small, and looked up at Benny, who was sitting on his bed, biting nervously at his lip. How could he explain to his best friend that this was the only thing in his life he was completely sure of? Benny knew everything about him—they’d been best friends since first meeting on the playground while in kindergarten—but Benny didn’t understand Cisco’s obsession with Max. A day hadn’t gone by that he didn’t think about the captivating man, looking at him with eyes that seemed to pierce through the gloom of that foggy November night. Though there was an instant attraction to the mysterious man, there was something beyond just the physical. In just one look, Cisco knew he belonged to Max. That conviction had never wavered, only grown stronger over the years.

“C’mon, we’ve already talked about this a hundred times. I’m going.”

“But… for Christ’s sake, he’s a vampire. Doesn’t that scare you? It sure as hell scares the crap out of me! What if he drains you? What the fuck am I supposed to tell your mom?” Benny’s voice rose with each word and his growing panic made his voice crack.

It was an idle threat and Benny knew it. He wouldn’t be able to find Cisco’s mom to tell her shit. After his dad died, Mom used the small fortune she inherited to constantly jet-set off to unknown ports with the new husband, her third, he believed, or maybe fourth, he couldn’t keep up. She hadn’t even bothered to send him a card for his birthday, but he did get a beautiful flower arrangement from his nanny.

Shrugging, then sighing in relief as the button on the leathers finally cooperated, he gave his friend a disbelieving look. “He’s not going to drain me. You watch too many bad B movies. Vampires have publicly coexisted alongside humans for over twenty years. Did you know that statistically, humans commit murder more often than vampires? You have a better chance of being killed at that nasty go-go club you visit than I do walking into Wicked Ground.”

Actually he had no clue as to the soundness of the statistics, but Benny got a little wigged-out about bloodsucking freaks so Cisco wasn’t about to say anything that would send him off on another rant. Benny had never even met a vampire as far as Cisco knew, and as much as he loved the guy, Benny really was an idiot sometimes. If it was on the Internet, Benny believed it was real.

Ah shit. Judging from the look in his eyes, his protective friend was already geared up for a hell of an outburst.

“Well, I’m sure I have a better chance of defending myself against a guy who wants to play with my assets than you will from some supernaturally strong vampire that can control your mind,” Benny argued.

“Listen,” Cisco said, grabbing the harness that he’d ordered earlier in the week from its box. “You know the whole mind-control thing is crap, right?”

“Do I?” Benny responded, arching a brow. “You’ve been obsessed with this guy since the first time you saw him—how do you explain that? I mean, really, Cisco, who the hell waits five years for a guy to notice him? If it’s not mind control, then the only other alternative is that you’re seriously whacked and in need of a padded cell.”

Studying the harness, Cisco ran it through his fingers, enjoying the feel of the soft leather. Unfastening the buckles and turning it over and over in his hands, he couldn’t even begin to figure out how the hell it went on. Ignoring Benny’s rant, he held out the harness. “Do you have any idea how this goes on?”

Benny threw his hands up, obviously a little more than frustrated if the heavy sigh coming out of him was any indication, but he still got up from the bed and took the harness.

He stared at it for a moment before declaring, “This is for a horse! Now, I know you think you’re a stallion but….”

Snatching the harness back from him, Cisco gripped it hard in his fist, his face heating as anger surged through him. This wasn’t a joke. “Go home, Benny. I’ll figure it out myself,” he said, turning away from his friend.

“Ah, c’mon,” Benny said softly as he moved up behind Cisco and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, Cisco. I know this is important to you, but I’m worried. Are you sure I can’t go with you?”

He shook his head. He knew Benny was worried about him and was only trying to protect him, but he also knew that he had to do this on his own. Besides, even though they were both gay, they were on opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to acting on their sexuality. His best friend seemed to be on a mission to bed every hot guy in Mecosta and the four surrounding cities, whereas Cisco was saving himself for Max. Benny was also a cocky son of a bitch, a total top, whose idea of a kink was what his back felt when he slept on the pull-out couch in Cisco’s basement. Completely vanilla. Cisco wanted to submit to his Master. Wanted to be bound and at the mercy of his will, to feel the kiss of his leather against his skin, and to know that he was what his Master needed for his pleasure.

The image of himself chained to a wall, naked, hard, and aching as his Master entered him for the first time flashed through his mind. Picturing the way his body would feel, stretched and full, caused him to shiver and his cock to harden. The sound of his own voice, screaming his pleasure to the rafters, whimpering, and pleading, filled his ears, making him dizzy with anticipation and need. God, he wanted to be owned and loved by his Master.

Cisco took a few deep calming breaths and pushed away the images igniting him, then turned in Benny’s arms and hugged him back. “I know you’d go with me if I asked, but I need to do this on my own. Besides,” he said lightly to alleviate some of Benny’s fears. “I’m not going to do anything but check it out. I’ll call you the minute I leave, okay?”

Benny kissed Cisco’s forehead, then took a step back. From the frown and furrowed brows, it was obvious he didn’t approve, but he was letting Cisco make his own choices. “No, you have two hours from the time you enter that club to call me, or I’m coming in after you, got it?”

“Okay, Dad,” Cisco teased. “Two hours, got it. Now will you either help me with this damn thing or get out of here so I can get ready?”

Benny took the harness, grabbed his hand, and led Cisco to stand in front of the full-length mirror. As Benny fiddled with the strips of leather and helped secure them over his shoulder and chest, Cisco studied his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t look any different than he had yesterday. Same dark brows and buzz-cut black hair. Same dark brown, nearly black eyes, though they did appear to be a little wider, wilder, no doubt due to the excitement and anticipation that was rushing through his body. At five feet eight inches and yet to hit one hundred and fifty pounds, the tight leather pants only accentuated his small frame. No, he didn’t look any different, but on the inside he was completely altered. The strength of his conviction that he would belong to Maximilian De Ferrari had changed him, completed him. After five years of waiting, his soul was ready to meet its owner.

The drive to the club was much the same: Cisco trying to convince Benny he would be fine and Benny, in turn, begging Cisco to let him come along. Stepping out of his friend’s car and shutting the door, Cisco sighed in relief when Benny drove away, albeit with a frown marring his brow, but at least he had left with nothing more than a tight nod and a small wave.

Cisco stood and stared at the nondescript building, not having a clue as to what lay beyond. There was only a single black door in the middle of the red brick façade, no windows, and no flashing neon lights, nothing to indicate that there was a club on the other side of the brick and mortar. The research he’d done on the Internet as to the type of club Wicked Ground was had left him with more questions and little in the way of real knowledge. It was as if the entire scene was masked behind a veil of anonymity, very hush-hush. He’d only seen a few pictures, none of which came from the inside of a club, but from house parties thrown by members. Even those didn’t give much information as they tended to be mainly of masked faces either posing with other members or in innocuous settings.

Though he hadn’t found any photos of what lay beyond the door, Cisco wasn’t completely benighted. He’d seen pictures of men in submissive poses, men in bondage, and various implements to cause pain, and had read quite a few books on the subject. He’d even gotten hold of a homemade porn flick once. Once? Okay, so he’d watched it more than a few times. He’d been enthralled by the way the Dom had moved against his sub. It had reminded him of a passage in a book he’d once read: “The slow sensual slide of bodies was like a symphony for the eyes.” The Dom had been beautiful, but Cisco always imagined the Dom moving like liquid silver was his Master, his Max.

He’d seen enough and read enough that he wasn’t completely unschooled, just inexperienced and untaught—but that would change tonight. He was sure of it!

Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, Cisco pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside. The sudden darkness enveloped him, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The foyer, as it began to come into view, was barely large enough for two men to stand in. The walls, ceiling, and floor were painted black, and the only light was a small glow that filtered through heavy black curtains in front of him. For long moments he couldn’t move, his heart racing as the scent of leather and male sweat mingled with an overpowering coppery smell that robbed him of his breath. Fear raced down his spine and his throat went dry, making it difficult to swallow, but as frightened as he was, the scent was heady. His rapid pulse pushed his blood south, and his shaft began to swell in its leather confines. Arousal and desire won out over fear, and he pulled back the thick curtain and stepped into the club proper.

Though the lighting was subdued, most filtered through a haze of red silk and smoke, he found himself blinking his eyes and once again trying to adjust to the change of light. They must do it on purpose. It left a person vulnerable for a moment—not that Cisco needed a trick with lighting to feel vulnerable, he had already felt exposed and off balance before opening the first door. His determination was the only thing keeping him from turning on his heel and running.

“ID,” a deep, harsh voice said from the left.

Turning, Cisco had to force himself to stand still and not take a step back. A huge—no, enormous, as in the size of a fricking full-grown grizzly bear huge—man sat on a stool with a beefy hand outstretched. His head was the only thing on him that appeared completely devoid of hair. He had a thick, well-trimmed beard, and his naked upper torso was covered in a thick mat of black hair.

As Cisco struggled to pull his ID from his back pocket, the giant bear leered at him with pale green eyes and a slight sneer curled his upper lip. The way the bouncer looked at Cisco, as if he were prey, added to the difficulty of trying to pull a small card from beyond-tight pants. Cisco shifted nervously, finally grasping the card between his fingers, and held it out to him. The door attendant’s meaty fingers wrapped around Cisco’s wrist as he plucked the card from Cisco’s fingers with his other hand. He held on to him as he studied Cisco’s face, ignoring the card in his hand. It felt as if he were a fly under a magnifying glass and at any moment he would have his wings ripped off. He couldn’t stop the trembling that encompassed his body. He was scared shitless of the ginormous man.

Breathe, Cisco, don’t you dare pass out from lack of oxygen now. Breathe.

Cisco ignored his warning to himself and held his breath as the man pulled him closer, leaned in, and whispered against his ear. “You be careful, little one. Don’t make eye contact and don’t talk to anyone except the one you seek.” He squeezed Cisco’s wrist in a crushing grip that made him gasp. “And unless you want to find out real quick just how much pain you can endure before you break, stay away from the back rooms.”

Releasing his hold on Cisco, the bear held out the ID and looked at him with a softer, almost tender look in his pale eyes. His full smile showed elongated and wickedly pointed eyeteeth, leaving no doubt as to what he was. Cisco rubbed at the ache in his wrist, then took his card and slipped it back into his back pocket, nodding in understanding. He was robbed of his voice, not only from the warning but also from the realization that although he still wasn’t convinced that a vampire could control his mind, he was pretty sure they could read it. He swallowed hard, finally dislodging the lump that had formed in his throat, and moved farther into the club.

Now past the darkened entryway, his eyes adjusted to the subdued light, Cisco could make out a modern bar that glowed invitingly. In time with the dull, thudding bass from within, twilight hues of cobalt, indigo, and crimson lights alternated throughout the club. The intoxicating scents that assaulted his nose in the entryway were stronger here, filling his nostrils as they floated heavily in the air. The color palette of black and red didn’t surprise him; he had formed a mental picture of the club in his mind, so the gothic feel of the interior was expected, but the sleek modern décor wasn’t. He’d imagined a dark, ancient dungeon with torture racks, iron maidens, and men chained to walls. Well, there were a few men chained from above on the large stage, so at least he had gotten that part correct. The rest of the club was clean, sleek lines, the black and red accentuated with highly polished chrome.

Passing the first table, his stomach roiled in revulsion as he witnessed a man, no bigger than himself, completely naked, hands bound, and at the feet of his Master, his mouth held wide open by a metal contraption that encompassed his shaved head. The Master was dressed in an expensively tailored Armani suit, giving off the impression of a cultured man. But when he used the smaller man’s mouth as an ashtray, stubbing out his cigarette on his sub’s tongue as he sipped from a wineglass, Cisco knew he was no gentleman and no one he wanted to know. He quickly moved away from the sickening sight.

Cisco wandered along the tables, careful to remember the bouncer’s instructions and keep his eyes low. The moans of pleasure and screams of pain that filled the club, combined with the extreme assortment of men, were like a feast for Cisco’s senses. His heart was hammering in his chest and he avoided looking at any one thing too long, remembering what he was told at the door. There were men in various states of dress from totally nude to barely dressed—with nothing more than small strips of leather covering various parts of their bodies—to completely encased in leather or vinyl. A dark mask with zippers covering the eyes, mouth, and ears worn by one bound man sent a bolt of fear through Cisco. His curiosity got the best of him, and he stopped and stared for a long moment at one sub kneeling, his head resting on his Master’s thigh, his eyes closed, and a dreamy smile on his lips. The Master gently threaded his hand through the sub’s light blond hair as he talked with another man. That’s what I want. It wasn’t so much the position of the sub that held his attention, but the tenderness of the Master and the look of pure bliss on the smaller man’s face.

Cisco forced his gaze away from the beautiful sight and continued to move through the club. Though he could feel the stares of those around him boring into him, causing his skin to tingle, he avoided looking directly at anyone as he frantically scanned the area. Along one side wall, there were doorways covered in black velvet curtains. One curtain out of the five stood open and curiosity had him heading in that direction.

Cisco stopped dead in his tracks at the doorway, and his mouth dropped open. “Holy hell,” he muttered under his breath. He hadn’t noticed any women in the club, but here a shapely woman with large breasts, long, flowing black hair, and pale skin stood bent at the waist, her hands splayed flat on the table in front of her as a large, muscular man draped across her back pounded brutally into her. The man wore a long black trench coat that obscured Cisco’s view of their lower halves. Though the woman was beautiful, she didn’t hold his attention, his gaze fixed on the handsome man’s face. He wished he could see more of the muscular man’s body. Giving further credence to Cisco’s belief that vamps could read minds, the muscular man turned his head to the side and met Cisco’s gaze with hungry, lust-filled eyes. A sly smile curled the man’s lip, and he threw back the long coat with a flourish.

Cisco gasped and his heart skipped a beat. Kneeling at the feet of the woman was a small man dressed in nothing but a wide leather collar around his neck with a silver ring attached at the back. A rope ran through the ring, down his back, and was secured tightly around his wrists, keeping his head pulled back into a perfect position. Each thrust by the muscular man forced the “woman’s” very large, very thick cock down the sub’s throat. Cisco stood transfixed at what was obviously not a woman, watching as the saliva-slick shaft slid in and out of the stretched mouth of the kneeling man. Stunned but apparently aroused, Cisco felt his cock lengthen to full hardness. When he looked back up at the muscular man’s face, the other man smiled, revealing sharp teeth, and he winked at Cisco.

So engrossed in the sight before him, Cisco yelped, nearly jumping out of his skin, when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around. He found himself staring directly at a smooth, massive chest. Slowly his gaze moved upward. Good God, are all the Doms here required to be fricking huge? This one was nearly as big as the bouncer, making Cisco feel even smaller and more insignificant.

“See something you like, boy?” a thick husky voice asked.

Cisco began to tremble under the heavy hand, and he tilted his head back to look up into red glowing eyes. He opened his mouth to respond and snapped it shut, remembering the bouncer’s warning, but Cisco was unable to look away.

“Doesn’t matter either way to me,” the man grunted. He reached out with his other hand and grabbed on to the harness Cisco wore. “What the hell is this? You want to be a pony?” the man sneered. “Not too bright, are you, boy?”

Dread spread through Cisco as the man continued to laugh. He had wanted so badly to be part of Max’s world, to impress him enough to get his attention. Tears of embarrassment burned the backs of his eyes as another man joined the first and they both laughed at him and taunted his inexperience. Cisco refused to let the tears fall and clamped down on his trembling leg that threatened to give out. He wouldn’t be deterred from his goal no matter how ridiculous he felt.

“I doubt your scrawny little ass can handle being fucked and ridden hard,” the first man snarled and shoved Cisco to the floor. “I’ll teach you to be a good little pony. That is, if you survive.”

“Don’t break him too fast, Zeke. I want a chance to ride your new little pony boy.”

Cisco struggled to regain his footing, fighting to free himself from the man’s iron grip, but it was no use. It did nothing but to make the vampires laugh all the harder. Cisco’s strength gave out and he was again forced to his knees, hands resting on his thighs as he stared at the floor. He no longer heard their words as they continued to rain down insults and jeers, too lost in his grief. For five years he’d been waiting and preparing to meet Maximilian De Ferrari, and it hadn’t been enough. The pain in his heart overshadowed his embarrassment, and a single tear rolled down his cheek as others joined the first two men, surrounding Cisco while pointing and laughing.

Chapter Two

RESTLESS, MAX paced like a caged animal in the confines of his office. The calendar had mocked him for weeks; each day until November eleventh, when his Francisco would come of age, had seemed to drag on for an eternity. Since first spotting the beautiful boy, he’d watched him grow from a boy of sixteen to a handsome man. Max had protected him from afar during the day and watched over him as he slept at night. His desire for Francisco had grown unbearable until his yearning consumed him. Regardless of what others thought, Max knew he wasn’t soulless, because as the days clicked slowly by, he’d felt the urge to claim what he knew was his within the pit of his soul. In fact, the demand became so overwhelming, he’d had to send either Darius, Silas, or Angelo to watch over his precious man, afraid he would no longer be able to fight the temptation. The last six months had been sheer hell. But he knew Francisco would come to him when he was ready, of this he had no doubt. He’d felt the connection, read the boy’s emotions, knew Francisco had felt it too, the binding implanted within each of them.

Still, the waiting was torturous.

What had once brought him pleasure and satisfaction now seemed hollow and unfulfilling. When his fangs punctured the soft skin at the rapid pulse of a man’s neck, Max would pull hard, sucking at the life-giving force, yet would feel nothing. Even the pleasure-filled moan his penetrating kiss elicited no longer moved him. There was only one man he wanted to touch, to hold in his arms. The only person he wanted to sustain him was his Francisco.

It had been the same every day over the last five years. He took the blood his body demanded, but he felt no joy in the act as he once had—it was nothing more than a necessity. The same could be said for mastering a submissive while on the stage of Wicked Ground. His followers demanded that he display his ability to take a sub, dominate, control, send him soaring as Max beat and fucked him. They still stared at him with wide, awe-filled eyes and bent low in respect when he approached, but again he was simply going through the motions. He was a master of not only those under him, but of illusion. To the outside world, those whom he ruled, nothing had changed. He was still the most powerful vampire in the area. But inside, everything had changed. He was in limbo, waiting to be complete.

“Sir, he’s here,” Darius called out as he burst into the room.

Finally! Max grabbed his waistcoat from the back of his chair and moved toward the door. “Is he alone?”

“Uh… well….”

“Goddammit, spit it out! Is he here alone or not?” Max yelled impatiently.

“Y-yes, sir, he came in alone,” Darius sputtered nervously. “I warned him to be careful, not to talk to anyone or make eye contact. I kept an eye on him, but….”

“But what?”

Darius shifted from foot to foot, staring at the floor. “Zeke….”

Max pulled on his coat as he pushed past Darius, rushing from the room. “I’ll rip that son of a bitch to shreds if he so much as lays a finger on him,” Max roared.

Zeke was a wild card, on the verge of bloodlust and unpredictable. Panic rolled through Max’s stomach as images of the broken and bloodless bodies of the sadistic prick’s victims flashed through his mind. The thought of Zeke touching Max’s beautiful boy spurred him on, and he broke into a dead run, tracing down the corridor toward the main club in a blur of soundless light.

The door nearly flew off its hinges as Max charged into the club. He scanned the room frantically, his gaze settling on a large crowd that had gathered along the far wall. As he approached the crowd, he stumbled when he felt a faint beat in his chest. He quickened his steps, shoving people out of his way. He found Francisco kneeling on the floor, grief and anguish rolling off him in waves and tears glistening on his cheeks. Mine! Rage filled him so completely, his vision turned red as a laughing Zeke reached out a hand toward Francisco.

“No! Damn you, no!”

In a flash of unbridled fury lasting mere seconds, three vampires lay broken and crumpled against the far wall and the crowd began to scatter. Max fell to his knees in front of Francisco, his vision clearing as he reached out and wiped away a tear. Dazed dark eyes looked up at him from under wet lashes.

As Max took Francisco’s hand in his, the club disappeared and he was no longer aware of anyone except his boy. A smile grew on Max’s face as warmth he hadn’t felt in years spread through him. Dear God! Iunctio Copula has to be true! It felt as if his soul had found its other half and with it the promise of life.

“Francisco,” he said reverently as he looked into wide, stunned eyes.

Max leaned in and gently wiped away the rest of the tears, his finger tingling with the contact. Max knew with that one touch, he would always protect him, care for him, and put no one above him.

“You’re mine,” he whispered adamantly, holding Francisco’s gaze.

CISCO, STILL light-headed from fear and the quick turn of events, leaned back slightly and ran his hand along his cheek where Max had touched him, awed at how warm his flesh felt from an ice-cold finger. He blinked, stunned at the magnificent man in front of him. My Master, whispered through his mind.

The piercing blue eyes he recognized at once—they were the same as he’d seen each night in his dreams—but the rest of Max’s face was new to Cisco and it was even more handsome than he’d imagined. Lean with a strong, chiseled chin and cheekbones under pale skin, it would make Michelangelo weep at its perfection. His thick black hair was pulled back away from his masculine face, a single untamed curl against his temple.

Cisco hung his head, the tears still damp on his cheeks. He should have fought harder, screamed, kicked, bit, something. His cowardice was inexcusable and he was too ashamed to hold Max’s gaze.

“Francisco, do not turn your eyes from me,” Max said softly as he tilted Cisco’s head back up with a tip of one finger.

“You… you know my name?” he asked, stunned.

“But of course,” Max responded with a small grin. “You are my Francisco, the one I have been waiting for. My Iunctio Copula, the one who will make my heart beat again.”

Was it possible? Could Max have felt the same thing he had when Cisco had first been captured by piercing blue eyes? But how…. Why? Benny’s concern came back to him. “Can….” He cleared his dry throat. “Do you control my mind? Is that why I came to you?”

“Of course not.” Max chuckled softly as he pulled Cisco to his feet and wrapped his arm around his waist. “Only a heart has the power to rule a mind. Your soul cried out and mine answered. Come with me.”

Cisco wasn’t sure he understood what was happening, and he couldn’t begin to explain it. That same dreamlike quality he’d experienced the first time he’d seen Max swirled around Cisco. Only this time he wasn’t 100 percent sure he was awake. Everything was surreal. Still, he allowed Max to lead him across the club. The way Max was looking at him as if he were precious was all he needed to know at this moment. He loved the way his stomach fluttered pleasingly when Max looked at him, the way his skin tingled when Max touched him. How he felt free and consumed at the same time when Max was near him. It felt right, as if he was finally where he belonged after being lost for so long.

Max stopped near the large man who had checked Cisco’s ID and given him the warning. With his eyes glowing red and standing at his full height, chest puffed out, he was even more imposing. Max must have sensed Cisco’s unease since he pulled him closer to his side. A protective sensation surrounded Cisco, and he eased against the cold, rock-hard body as if it were a pillow.

“Darius, call Angelo and have him help you take those three downstairs. I’ll deal with them later,” Max ordered.

Darius rolled his shoulders without taking his gaze from the carnage in front of him, a wicked grin curling his upper lip and showing off his razor-sharp fangs. “Be my pleasure,” he responded, sounding almost gleeful.

Silently, Max led them past a heavy door and down a dark corridor. Cisco could barely see a foot in front of him, but he was surprisingly unafraid. They stopped once again in front of a large wooden door. Max turned the knob—revealing the room within, completely devoid of any light—and ushered Cisco in. He jumped when the door closed behind him, the sound amplified in the blackness that surrounded him. His head spun, and he was off balance when Max released him briefly and then grabbed his forearms.

“Did they hurt you?”

Cisco could feel Max’s gaze upon him even in the pitch-black room, inspecting him by rolling his arms, then spinning him, obviously checking his back for injuries. “No, Sir,” Cisco responded, then yelped when he was pitched forward.

Strong hands caught him, steadied him, and then were gone. A chill settled over Cisco, and without Max near him, fear began to slither down his spine and kick up his pulse. “Maximilian, Sir?” Cisco called out meekly and wrapped his arms around himself, the silent blackness weighing down on him, crushing him, and he began to tremble.

“I’m here.”

Cisco turned to face the disembodied voice coming from the other side of the room. He hadn’t so much as heard a rustle of clothing. A light came on, and Cisco instinctively shielded his eyes.

“I apologize, I forgot you cannot see in the dark.”

“Limited senses,” Cisco replied, trying to shrug off the unease, and slowly lowered his hand.

Vampires were at the top of the food chain for a reason. They possessed lightning-fast speed and reflexes, ability to see their prey even in utter blackness, and a sense of smell that rivaled any predator. Add those physical traits to the fact that they had logical, rational minds, keen intelligence, and it was baffling they had not taken over the planet. Cisco was sure the only reason they hadn’t was due to their low numbers—mortality rate nearly 90 percent during the change—and inability to withstand sunlight.

Max came to him, a slight grin on his handsome face. The smile lit up Max’s face, softened his features, and if at all possible, made him all the more appealing. Cisco would do anything to keep that look on his Max’s face, even give his soul. Max began removing Cisco’s harness, and Cisco’s cheeks heated in embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” Max murmured as he dropped the harness to the floor and laid a gentle hand on Cisco’s shoulder. “I will teach you all you need to know.”

“I am eager to learn.”

Max cupped Cisco’s face with both his hands and stared into his eyes, making Cisco’s knees go weak. “Give me your innocence and I will teach you to please your Master.”

Cisco stared back, mesmerized by the flecks of gold that swirled within Max’s blue eyes, and in that moment, everything became perfectly clear. He lowered his eyes respectfully, fell to his knees, and pressed his face against the well-formed thigh of his Master.

With absolute conviction he said, “It is yours to master.”

Chapter Three

HIS MASTER’S fingers were gentle against Cisco’s scalp, and he enjoyed the sensation of ease produced by kneeling at Max’s feet and the way Max touched him. But the moment did not last.

All too soon Max tapped him on the shoulder. “On your feet, boy.”

“Yes, Sir,” Cisco responded, trying his best to keep the disappointment from his voice when Max once again moved away.

“Have a seat,” Max instructed, waving a hand toward an ornately carved wooden chair. Max sat in the other chair—more like a finely carved throne with red crushed-velvet back and seat—on the opposite side of a massive desk.

Cisco did as he was told, sparing a moment to take in his surroundings. The office was opulent. Bookshelves were filled with leather-bound tomes that looked centuries old. Scattered among the books were a multitude of small bronze statues, crystal globes, and brass bells, as well as many other eclectic but artistic treasures. The entire place was decadent, a fitting office for such a powerful man.

There wasn’t a shred of doubt within Cisco that he belonged to Max, would do anything asked of him, anything to make his Master proud. Yet, somehow he felt as if it wouldn’t be enough. He’d never been outside the boundaries of Mecosta, never had a lover, and lacked proper schooling. Hell, he couldn’t even wear a proper harness. What did he have to offer someone like Max?

“Your willingness to learn and your loyalty are all I expect from you at the moment.”

Cisco’s head snapped back toward Max and he met his gaze, mouth wide open in shock. “You can read my mind. Oh crap, does that mean you can control it as well?”

Max grinned knowingly. “I was not lying when I said I cannot control your mind. Nor can I read it. Only a heart can do that, which I do not possess yet.”

“Yet?”

“United soul mates who share a blood tie can to some degree read each other’s thoughts. However, I can get a sense of what you’re feeling and I’m very perceptive.”

Holding Max’s gaze, Cisco kept his features neutral and concentrated hard, bringing to mind the hilarious joke Benny had told him. “What am I feeling now?”

Max’s brow furrowed into a deep frown and he glared at Cisco. “You will soon discover I absolutely do not do parlor tricks nor am I here for your entertainment. Is that understood?”