Dominion
sequel to The Power of Two
a vampire BDSM novella by Mychael Black & Shayne Carmichael
Phaze
Still dealing with the aftershocks of his ordeal at
Tristan's hands, Griffith St. James is fighting the
urge to withdraw completely. He feels guilty for what
happened, less than a man. The nightmares of his
torture at his former master's hands are worse than
ever. Dominic Marcellus struggles to draw Grif back
into their life before Tristan, but fate has other
plans.
Finding himself back in the clutches of his abusive
former master, Grif is terrified and can only pray
Dominic comes for him in time.
: :
Excerpt:
Dominic's laugh was low and sultry, and he tilted Grif's head up for a
light, teasing kiss. "Dinner time." With that, Dominic stepped off of
the dance floor, tugging Grif behind him until they reached the bar.
From there, he let go, giving Grif a wink before making his move on the
redhead.
Grif remained right where Dominic left him, his eyes traveling slowly
over the other vampire's body. He paid no attention to the blond he'd
mentioned to Dominic. His eyes were on Dominic instead, watching him
approach the redhead. Grif wanted to watch him feed. Taking a side step
toward the bar, he rested his elbow on the counter.
As Dominic drew closer, the redhead looked up, his smile hopeful.
Dominic slid behind the young man, cupping the man's jaw and tilting
his head back. The redhead's eyes closed slowly and his breathing grew
shallow, his chest rising and falling quickly. Dominic whispered
something in his ear, lips moving slowly down to the curve of the man's
throat. When he struck, it was swift and discreet, appearing to be
nothing more than an extended kiss on the neck. The man's eyes rolled
back as he shook in Dominic's arms. Eyes fastened on Grif, Dominic
licked the bite wounds to close them a moment later. The redhead smiled
and laughed. Dominic moved away then, licking his lips.
Grif barely stifled his growl, and he'd lost interest completely in the
blond for a moment. Finally he stirred from his position when Dominic
came toward him. Before he could say anything, the young blond
insinuated himself next to Grif at the bar counter. Turning his
attention to him, Grif smiled faintly as the man made an obvious play
for him. Keeping his distance, Dominic sidled up to the bar not too far
away and leaned against it casually.
It did make it so much easier when the donor was more than eager to get
up close and personal. Grif held Dominic's steady gaze for a moment
before he leaned in toward his overeager victim. A gentle brush of
Grif's hand pulled back the long strands of hair as his head descended
toward the man as if to whisper to him. Clouding the man's mind, Grif
struck quickly, drawing the nourishing, hot blood from him. When Grif
finished, he healed the marks. It took no more than a simple mental
nudge and the blond chuckled and looked over at the red-head that had
so interested Dominic. Without a word, he moved further down the bar to
stand beside the other man.
"Playing matchmaker again?" Dominic teased as he walked up, sliding an arm around Grif's waist.
"It's an interesting occupation, Dominic," Grif answered with a grin.
Turning his back to the bar, he sidled up onto a stool. His legs caught
at Dominic, drawing him close. "What do you think? There is a certain
something about them together. It'd be a kick to watch them."
"Mm," Dominic hummed against Grif's neck. "It would be, wouldn't it?"
Moving lower, he exhaled on Grif's shirt, just over his nipple. "Or we
can go home and you can ride me."
Resting a hand against Dominic's ass, Grif's fingers kneaded into the
tight leather. "Believe me, I wasn't talking about watching them now."
He tilted Dominic's head up and pressed a soft kiss to his lover's lips.
"Good. Take me home and I'll fuck you through the mattress." Dominic
stepped back and helped Grif back down, taking hold of his hand to lead
the way out of the club.
Positively grinning like the cat that got all the cream, Grif let
Dominic lead him. As he looked toward the door, he saw a face that sent
a chill rushing through him, and his mind blanked. He stopped, his hand
slipping free of Dominic's. When he blinked, nobody was there. He
couldn't have seen what he thought he did. Blinking rapidly in
confusion, he swiftly scanned the bar before hurrying to catch up with
Dominic.
"Griffith? Are you all right?"
Nothing and nobody seemed out of place in the bar. There was no way in
hell he could have seen his former master. Looking back at Dominic, he
nodded slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine." Tugging at Dominic's hand, Grif
pulled his lover quickly out of the bar.
Just the momentary belief of thinking he'd seen his old master, Quinn,
brought back all the memories of what had been done to him. Echoes of
the agonizing pain of skin shredded to ribbons from a bullwhip wielded
by Tristan flit over Grif's nerves. His body had long healed from that
fateful night in the dungeon, but his mind was far too easily pushed
off balance. And even deeper from the past came the memories of the
rape and torture he'd suffered at Quinn's hand. The man who had created
him had also damaged him nearly beyond repair.
Still Grif tried to hide behind a bland façade of being perfectly all right.