Crimson Reign by J.T. Cheyanne, V.L. Moon Read Free Book Online Page A

gifted Laziel with a distraction from the memory of Lachi spilling his seed. “Damned bastard. Fuck!” Laziel tightened the band again, rejoicing in the tethered bite of pain as the hooked rows of steel teeth bit into the hard underlying muscle. The abhorrent and sinful thoughts Laziel held for the vampire male slowly ebbed away with the numbing dull thud of agony shooting through the angel’s skull. But, it wasn't over yet. The night was still young. And, try as he might, Laziel couldn’t forget Lachi still needed to feed. Oh for the love of self-flagellation. Just the thought of Lachi's lips pressed against the vein running along the line of his throat was enough to flood Laziel’s wicked core and send a tremor of lust racing up his spine.
    It was going to be a bloody long night. And Laziel couldn’t wait.
    Fresh from the shower, Laziel blocked out the pulse of pain from the barbs and took the scenic route through the older section of their quarters. The gallery walls displayed Laziel's own commission of private portraits; each one a much loved and detailed depiction of Lachi through the centuries. All were painted by the hand of whatever artist was in favor at the time. Laziel loved them and often found he stared wistfully into the hypnotically deadly stare of Lachi’s lethal gaze. Drawn on by the pull of Lachi's hunger, Laziel instinctively knew where the vampire King impatiently paced. His ravenous appetite for Laziel’s blood refused to wane, even after all this time. The animalistic surge of energy projected by the King coated Laziel’s senses, drawing him in closer by the second with the tantalizing allure of Lachi’s salacious craving for celestial blood.
    Upon entering the library, Laziel physically and mentally sighed. The warm gold of the ornate fixtures and fittings mixed beautifully with the deep seated over-stuffed crimson sofas that lay overwhelmed with huge comfortable cushions. They sat invitingly in front of a huge roaring fire. The impressive hearth took up the entirety of the main facing wall. Its dominance in the room was, as ever one of comfort and heartwarming sanctuary. The sweet aroma of beeswax mingled with the smell of the books, lying housed within the three surrounding floor to ceiling book cases. Thousands upon thousands of first editions, parchments and scrolls all married together through the decades to produce a most outstanding collection of reading material within which Laziel spent hours happily lost.
    This night, however, there was to be no such diversion. Beside the open hearth, Lachi stood dressed in ought but his skin; he was the reason for Laziel’s being. Without question, Lachi was the epiphany of masculine beauty and grace, and for just a moment as the vampire stared transfixed by the flames, Laziel’s eyes took in the enthralling form of the well sculptured Adonis. From top to toe, Lachi's bronze tinted skin shimmered, highlighted by the radiant glow of the flickering flames. Absently, Laziel rubbed the prickling skin of his hands over his thighs and wondered futilely how soft Lachi's still damp hair would feel if ran between the needful fingers of Laziel's deft hands.
    The lump in Laziel’s throat threatened to choke him. He loved so fully, only as an angel could love. Yet, his heart constantly yearned for more than Lachi could, or would, give. Laziel fought back the tide of remorse and swallowed loudly. He wasn’t surprised when he raised a glance in Lachi's direction and found the vampire’s sights firmly fixated on the pulsating vein running hot along the column of his throat. If all he was ever meant to be was a vessel for this vampire, he had no choice but to accept his role with gracious intent and savor for an eternity the love and affliction of his angel's grace.
    With their eyes locked, Laziel closed the gap between them until they stood face to face. Then slowly, his gaze raking over the well-defined contours of Lachi's masculine form, Laziel dropped to