Lineage came out last night!
Lineage at Loose Id. From the blurb: Vision fought his way from street whore to vampire elder, but can’t forget the feel of surrender in silk restraints. Hanz can give it to him again — but love wasn’t enough before, and the skeletons in Vision’s closet have fangs.
Even though I’m a fandom of one (go me!), there is no end to how much I love this world, and Lineage is my favourite book. I love the snark, Vision and Hanz make me happy just being on the same page together, and the sex pleases . Really, there’s no downside. 🙂
From the beginning
Once, perhaps, Vision would have been in the divey little bar with Janus, alone. The beer they would drink would smell and taste of piss, the non-conditioned air would wick away what little chill it had to make it potable, and the night would end with blowjobs in the back of the alley.
Vision laughed to himself, and was surprised when his shoulders shook. Being drunk played havoc on his motor skills, apparently. Janus stopped whispering something in his pet’s ear, and they both turned and looked at him. This wasn’t a divey little bar, but a glass and chrome martini lounge somewhere on a side street off Union Square. He and Janus weren’t alone, Janus had his little Lyall and Vision had his security force, all five of them, staged in various locations throughout the bar. Sorry, lounge.
It was a good thing the martinis were straight alcohol. The night would still end with blowjobs, Janus’s, not his. Vision would make it back to the huge house he now had and wander the halls until it was night again.
The bartender came out from around the bar to clear the empties. Janus was generous to a fault when it came to tipping humans, and any of his regular haunts treated him like old royalty. Vision looked around to his watchers and wondered how Janus would like the taste of new sovereignty.
Still, the bartender was pretty, in a shaven head and eyeliner leathery kind of way, and Vision found himself wondering what the bare skin would feel like under his palms with Vision’s back to the deliberately coarse brick walls surrounding the bar. The bartender raised his delicately sculpted eyebrow at Vision, as though welcoming him to find out, but Vision stood.
Janus looked up, untangling his fingers from Lyall’s hair. “We done here?” he asked.
“I am. You finish your…” Vision stopped. Lyall was leaning back in the booth, his body an invitation and his long fingers running up and down his neck. The V-neck of his shirt set off the vein work along his throat. “…drink.”
Janus tipped his glass, filled with something so blue it glowed in the black light of the bar.
Vision waved him off.
The alcohol in his system only accentuated the other hunger inside him. The night was still young, the moon as bright as the noonday sun he remembered, and the thought of getting back into the dark waiting limo stabbed him.
Hanz and Frank, his two most loyal followers, or at least Strickland’s most loyal followers that he had simply inherited along with the rest of Strickland’s organization, waited for him by the limo’s open door.
Vision got into a waiting cab, instead. “Hey, I’m waiting for someone,” the cabbie said, glaring at Vision through the mirror.
All Vision needed was the eye contact. “Not any more you aren’t,” he said. Pushing into a human’s brain took no more energy than pushing into water. He had no problems sliding into the matrix of thoughts and tissues and simply rewrote the man’s desires with his own.
“Yes, sir,” the cabbie said, pulling his hat lower down on his head. He put the car in drive.
The entire operation took a couple seconds. Hanz and Frank didn’t move from the car, and Vision watched their faces as he drove off. He promised himself that he’d find new minions as soon as he could.
The dark shadows in the street were different this side of 14th Street. Vision tasted the need and sex in the back of his throat as metallic as blood.
“Wait for me,” Vision said. The cabbie put the car in park. Vision opened the door and stepped out. It took a concerted effort for him to pull his fangs back inside his mouth, but he did so. The bloodlust would just have to wait.
He passed the twinks and the hustlers. Neither interested him. Any that were interested in him shrank back when Vision shot them a withering look. He felt their discomfort, and reveled in it.
The shadows grew deeper the further he traveled. He supposed the lights here threw off as much as the lights by the cab, but the needs were deeper and tasted of leather.
Excellent. A rough hand came down over his shoulder. The heat of blood beneath the skin was a song to Vision.
“You looking for me?” a man’s voice said, a harsh purr of metal.
Vision turned, slowly. The man was big, bigger than he was, and his leather vest showed off his huge arms to best advantage. His face, for all his body work, was fairly plain and dark enough to suit Vision’s preference and need.
“I am now,” Vision said.
The rest of the conversation went unsaid.
Rough? the man seemed to ask, crossing his arms over his chest.
Vision exposed his throat, supposing the man would have no concept of what that truly meant. Oh, yes.
The man raised his eyebrow. Here?
Vision licked his lips. I’m game if you are.
Vision and his old master
Gabriel motioned Vic to the bed. Vic stood by it, stomach fluttering, and Gabriel turned his back to him and went to the closet.
They could have run, Vic knew. He could have grabbed Steven by the hand and pulled him out, both naked, into the street. Jail would have been better than what was going to happen.
Steven smiled at nothing, and Vic knew in that second that Steven wouldn’t go with him. He’d stay, rooted to the spot, even if what Gabriel pulled from the closet were slaughter knives.
They weren’t knives, but silk strips, each over three feet. Gabriel released them, and they fluttered like black butterflies to the bed.
“Victor,” Gabriel said, voice hard. “Come here.”
Vic would have preferred the knives. He took the two steps that separated them. He would have preferred the knives, but he was hard, and Gabriel watched him with slitted eyes.
“Would you, really?” Gabriel asked.
He knew what Vic was thinking. The thought of this man running a steel blade over his bare skin was far more arousing than it should have been. Shame filled him, but he offered his wrists to Gabriel without being told.
“Very good,” Gabriel whispered. The first silk that touched his skin felt like a puff of breath. It was cold, colder than the room, at least, and Gabriel tied it with a bow far prettier than the situation demanded.
He let half of the silk ties fall, and they pooled onto the floor. Gabriel tied the second bow, just as tight, and again the silk sighed as it fell.
“You want to lie down,” Gabriel whispered.
“No,” Vic said. He truly didn’t want to be so exposed, but the thought of it almost made him come where he stood.
“You do,” Gabriel said. “Don’t you?”
Vic sat down on the bed.
“That’s not what I asked for,” Gabriel said. There was no scorn in his voice, just gentle prodding, and the words felt as though they batted against his skin. Butterflies.
Steven was still where Gabriel had placed him, watching them both, and Vic wondered how much of this he was seeing. His face was as always pleasant to look at, but now it was vacant.
Vic lay back for him. He didn’t mind his dick on display, that’s what he was paid for, but to have his stomach and throat open almost made him curl his legs up to protect them.
“Good boy,” Gabriel said. With a flurry of motion, Gabriel tied the trails of silk to the bed frame, and–with that–Vic was given permission to fight.
The silk had no give to it. And the struggling he did do only made the knots on his wrists tighter. He figured that out quickly enough, then relaxed again.
“Good,” Gabriel repeated. He took another silk bond and tied it around Vic’s throat.
Vic shuddered. The silk was touching a pulse point, and he felt the whisper of it with every beat of his heart. Gabriel trailed the end of the silk over his chest, across his belly. Vic shuddered. Gabriel gathered up his testicles with one hand.
“No,” Vic said, shuddering, but Gabriel leaned forward, pressing his finger against Vic’s lip. “Don’t speak,” he said, holding his finger too hard against Vic, then went back to what he was doing.
The silk bound his testicles tightly to his body. Vic moaned, arching his back. Gabriel looped the remaining silk along the length of Vic’s penis, then let the erection rest against Vic’s belly.
And my favourite:
Vision turned around. “Now,” he said.
Hanz smiled. “I think you know what position I would prefer you in,” he said.
Vision moved to the center of the room. He dropped to his knees, bent over so that he was touching his cheek to the carpet, and spread his legs.
“Beautiful,” Hanz whispered. “You really are.”
Vision felt his face warm, and warmed some more when Hanz stood behind him and nudged his legs out a bit more. “Better?”
Where Hanz had kept the leather ties, Vision didn’t see, but suddenly they were looped around his wrists and held tight, and that was better than better. He could relax into the position. He still wanted his damn slacks off, but he had to trust Hanz.
Even thinking the words didn’t hurt as much as he thought they would. Hanz unbuttoned the slacks, then unzipped them carefully around Vision’s erection, but with his legs so wide spread, there was no chance they’d be able to clear his hips. Still, Hanz yanked them down as far as they would go, which left his ass exposed.
His dick, however, lost what bit of friction he could get from the inseam, and that made him groan. “Uh-uh,” Hanz said, and slapped his right ass cheek. “Hush, now.”
Vision’s fangs were down, which made biting on his cheek a dangerous activity, so he forced his fangs back up inside.
Hanz slid his hand down between the taut jeans and Vision’s hot skin, and Vision had to bite back a groan. His tongue licked his teeth hard, but they didn’t have an edge to them.
Hanz wrapped his fist around Vision’s cock, dry skin on his sweat-slicked. He used just enough pressure and began to jerk Vision off, hard.
Vision tried to get away from the harshness. He reared up, but Hanz slammed Vision back to the carpet. “Now is not one of those times,” Hanz said, but his fist didn’t stop moving.
And Vision was coming. The orgasm almost split him in two. He felt ripped apart, but only in the most glorious way. Sweat stung his eyes, his cock didn’t stop pulsing, and he rode the wave after wave of pleasure. Each time it began to subside, Hanz would squeeze him again, and he was off again.
Hanz helped him to his feet, washed him off, and put him to bed. If he hadn’t, Vision knew he would have happily have spent the rest of the day on the floor.
And because I can, from Castoffs:
Vision meeting Janus in Castoffs:
(Vision is a little bitter because the last time they met, they got caught having sex by their masters. Janus’s master said nothing, and Vision’s master sent him to Siberia. It left Vision a little unhappy with the state of things)
When the door finally did open, he refused to let himself jump. The smell of the vampire was familiar, so he leaned against the wall and exposed his throat. “How was Siberia? Did you bring me back any vodka?”
Even in the darkness, Vision’s hand on the door tightened until his fingers were as bloodless as the corpse that evening. They were both lieutenants, but while Strickland kept Vision mostly under control, Janus’s Breylorn allowed Janus his freedom.
Vision crossed his arms over his chest. “I should kill you.”
Janus sighed. Vision’s anger came off him in waves. Janus approached, keeping his body casual, though he wondered if, just perhaps, he’d finally pushed Vision too far. He was in Vision’s domain, in bad with Vision’s master, and locked in a broom closet until someone deigned to deal with him. Still, Vision allowed him to approach and didn’t uncross his arms, even when Janus reached up and pinned Vision’s elbows together. It locked Vision in place, and although the anger didn’t leave, Vision relaxed slightly in his hands.
Janus leaned forward. Vision could force him back without lifting his fingers. Janus’s wards were no match for Vision’s compulsion when they were standing next to each other.
“You tried to kill me,” Vision said, then dropped to his knees. Janus tried to step back, but Vision dug his fingers into Janus’s ass, and the promise of pain brought him up short. Vision could have compelled him to remain still, but he didn’t. For a second, they both remained where they were. Janus could have pushed Vision off, but Vision wasn’t even looking at him. The silence broke with Janus undoing his zipper.
Vision’s mouth was warm; he must have just fed. His fingers worked under Janus’s jeans, and his tongue flicked over the head of his cock. Janus groaned, wishing at least Vision had had the good sense to back him into a wall or something. Vision moved his left hand to cup Janus’s balls, once it was fairly obvious Janus wasn’t going anywhere. Vision rubbed his face up and down Janus’s shaft. Friction warmed his skin. Janus’s hands tightened in Vision’s hair. Vision tensed, for just a second, and then took Janus deep in his throat.
Janus threw his head back, still holding onto the back of Vision’s head. It was the only thing that kept him upright. Jackie’s blood sang in his veins, Vision’s mouth turned his nerves to taut wires, and when Vision’s finger pushed inside him, finding its way to Janus’s prostate, Janus couldn’t last another second.
He pulled Vision down his cock, fingers knotting into the thick brown hair, and Vision swallowed him until he came. The blood inside him warmed again, like it was alive once more, and the orgasm built from the small of his back. Vision kept sucking him, gently now when he was so sensitive Vision’s nose against his pubic hair was too much sensation. His fingers moved back to Janus’s ass, but were now kneading out the tension in his muscles. Janus stroked Vision’s cheek to let him know he was in control once more, and Vision stood up without wiping his mouth. “Strickland is ready for you,” he said, and turned around. Janus followed him out of the room. The blood inside him cooled to its usual temperature, and it made him feel lethargic.