Lost Lamb

[Malkavian Riddler]

He was a lost lamb surrounded by wolves.  Their hungry gazes raked over him but moved along when they realised he wasn't interested in their games.  The casino floor was full tonight, of drunks, party-goers, winners and losers.  Mostly the latter.  Thankfully most of them were drunk also, so they were beyond caring at this point - it was all about having a good time.  Cain was no longer looking for a good time, though he'd certainly been having one.

It was fun to go shopping with Vomas, he'd found, getting fitted for ridiculously priced clothes while the stylist Vomas hired tried to interpret Cain's personality.  Vomas had made very few comments, spending most of the time texting and talking on the phone as Cain was accosted in changing booths by an excited stylist and an array of clothing.  It had taken only a few hours to purchase Cain's entire wardrobe, which he was pretty sure held more clothes than he'd ever bought in his life.  The greatest thing about it, was that they all felt like him.  Vomas had only displayed approval with one piece; the suit.  Even though Cain didn't wear suits often, the kind he'd returned with was the kind he'd have chosen himself if he'd had the money.  Black, sharp and very James Bond.

The suite at the casino was nifty too.  As a joke he'd asked for a jukebox and pinball machine, then received them the next night.  He hadn't sent it back because hey, they were pretty cool to have in his lounge.  He still felt a bit like a pet, but it was three nights by this stage and Vomas hadn't spent more than a few hours with him, and never intimately.  Right now they were in the setting up stage.  He was comfortable enough with that.

He hadn't bumped into the other donors until the fifth night, when he'd gone for a swim and Sophia joined him not long after.  They'd had a chat, catching up, but he could already see her mind turning with the gossip that Cain was back.  He kept the information of being Vomas' personal donor close to his chest, implying that he was now more of a trumped up errand boy.  He could see she didn't believe it but to her credit she didn't challenge him on it.  She'd never ostracised him back in the day when others had, so he didn't mind her and forgave her gossipy ways.  He left first, aware that her compliment on his body meant she would be checking him out as he left.  He didn't mind that either, but she wasn't his type and they both knew it.

He'd systematically explored the hotel now that he had access to almost every part of it and the building was complete.  It was only the casino floor left that he hadn't fully investigated.  He wished now that he hadn't because it was loud and boorish.  He was surprised Vomas had opened a casino in the first place.  It didn't suit his stuffy personality.  Cain would have to re-evaluate, as Vomas was obviously more than just what Cain had assumed.

He went back upstairs to his suite when his cellphone blipped and the screen showed him a message from Vomas to come see him upstairs.  He texted back that he was on his way.  Cain was nervous when he got into the elevator but calmed himself by the time he was at Vomas' door.  He hadn't changed but wearing boots, jeans and a black skivvy was dressy enough for Vomas, he thought.  He was glad that he was feeling presentable.  He always felt a little bit underdressed when Vomas cast an eye his way.

He didn't even have to knock.

[Saccharin]

Vomas opened the door with a phone lodged between his shoulder and cheek. "No, I don't care what color you pick," he said, waving Cain in. He turned and began walking back into the penthouse, expecting that he would shut the door behind him.

"Remy, really. I hired you to make these choices, don't make me-" He sighed. "Blue. A darker shade. Yes, now good night." He ended the call and after a moment's hesitation, shut it down entirely before sliding it into his pocket. If anyone had anything important to ask him, like what tile should be used in the second floor men's restroom, they would have to leave a voice mail. He really needed to work on the handful of employees he had who still required micromanaging. There were far better things he could be doing with his time than holding their hands.

"Please, have a seat." He waved in the general direction of a cream colored sectional couch nestled against the far wall. Scattered upon it were a few striped maroon and brown throw pillows, and in front of it was a dark brown coffee table with a glass top. A pitcher of water and a glass had been set out for Cain, along with a tray of snacks that were meant to energize - nuts, crackers and some fruit.

"I hope you've found your accommodations to your liking," he said conversationally, shrugging off his suit jacket and then draping it over a nearby sitting chair. Next went his tie, and as he unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he looked at Cain. Vomas' face was drawn and his eyes held more than polite interest in the nearby human.

It was time for Cain to begin holding up his end of their arrangement.

[Malkavian Riddler]

He smiled at Vomas but said nothing because of the phone.  He shut the door behind himself as anticipated and walked a few steps into the room before waiting for the phone call to end.

The skivvy suddenly felt tight and restrictive when before it had been cosy.  He didn't know what to do with his arms so he folded them, then thought his body language would send the wrong message so hung them by his sides.  That didn't feel good either so he tried to tuck his hands into his jeans pockets but they were too tight to make that appear casual.  He thumbed them into his front pockets but felt like he was trying to show off his bulge so he thumbed his back pockets and felt like he was trying to puff out his chest.  What the hell did people do with their arms?!  What had he done with them before coming in here?!  They were such awkward things!  He fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves and he began to relax a little.

When Vomas invited him to sit, he moved that way, pleased that his arms were behaving like normal arms now, swinging lightly and then being neat and tidy when he was seated.  He really had to stop thinking so much about his arms, it was neurotic.  He wasn't an anxious kind of guy.  He noticed the water and nibbles and knew they were for him.

"It's great, thanks," he replied, watching as Vomas' jacket came off.  He was pleased that the formal appearance of the vampire was slowly being removed while a more casual one took its place.  No more jacket, no more tie, bit more friendly and not as imposing.  He was smiling even though his heart was still skipping along at an escalated rate.  He might be trying to fool himself into thinking this was just a polite chat, because he'd been here not quite a week but he knew what was coming.

The look on Vomas' face accelerated his already fast beating heart.  Adrenalin poured into him at that expression.  On a mortal, that face would've been ready for a fuck.  On a vampire it could've been the same, he'd seen it enough times to understand what was coming, but sometimes it meant ready for a feed.  Most of the time it would turn out to be both.

He really didn't like donating his wrist.  He got nothing out of it except a hint of pain.  It was about as exciting as going to a blood donor office and giving blood into a baggie.  He knew there was a strong possibility that Vomas would want his neck this time, since Cain was now his personal donor.  In which case, the skivvy was going to have to come off.

"How do you want me?" he asked on soft breath.  Even as he asked he was positive he already knew.

[Saccharin]

((Oops, only meant for there to be one glass in my last post. It was late when I wrote that. Edited. Also, I godmoded a bit in this post. Let me know if you want me to change anything.)) 

He nodded distractedly, part of him pleased that Cain was happy, but the large remainder caught up in a whirlwind of predatory instinct that demanded to be satisfied. Wordlessly, he seated himself next to Cain, tucking a leg beneath him, and was close enough that his knee was pressed into the human's thigh. There was a hint of chlorine mingled with soap and shampoo, and beneath that, Cain's own unique and pleasing musk.

His eyes still intent and locked with Cain's startlingly blue (how had he neglected to notice how blue?) ones, he made his wish known.

"Turn around," he said, his voice unusually husky.

Once Cain had shuffled on the couch so his back was to Vomas, he reached out with both hands to gather the soft material of his shirt that had bunched up at his waist, teasing his fingers under the hem. He encountered the warm, smooth skin of his sides as he slid his hands upwards, hitching Cain's shirt up and helping him pull it over his head. The shirt, inconvenient to feeding in the manner Cain suspected he'd want, was folded in half and deposited on the floor.

When he straightened, he took in the expanse of the human's back and not bothering to resist the desire, ran his flattened palms up and over the scar and tattoo he found there to come to rest on his shoulders. His hands remained there for only a moment before they were moving again, down his biceps and forearms.

He angled his bent leg so he could scoot closer, then swept an arm around his middle and pulled Cain close, hugging him from behind - practically pulling him into his lap. His free hand gathered and cleared the hair from one side of Cain's neck. He leaned over and parted his mouth over the human's neck, feeling goose bumps on his lips and then tongue.

When he bit down, it was gently done, and then he extracted his fangs from the mortal's flesh and began taking blood into his mouth, swallowing eagerly.

[Malkavian Riddler]

Cain's mismatched blue eyes lowered when the order was given.  He could hear the need in Vomas' voice and covered up his tension by performing the task.  Swivelling on the seat he presented his back to the vampire.  It was something he would never do without a command.  When cold hands began undressing him, tingles of awareness ran a course up and down his spine.  The skivvy was momentarily caught near his ears and for a tiny moment he thought he might be captured that way, but then the clothing was off and he was free to pull his arms out.

Seeking hands moved intimately over places where other hands had also explored, usually those of lovers because they were the only ones who cared enough to investigate.  It was uncommon for a vampire more interested in a bite and a fuck to care about Cain's scars and tattoos.  When large hands paused upon his shoulders he instinctively tipped his head to the side and then looked down as Vomas smoothed hands down his muscled arms instead.  It was a surprise... he'd expected the bite to come.  The caressing brought goosebumps onto Cain's arms and for his breathing to deepen.

He was having a hard time associating these gentle caresses with Vomas.  He knew, intellectually, that the vampire was at his back.  The fact he couldn't see him didn't help his emotions connect the dots.  Perhaps it was better this way, it was certainly easier.  It was nice, to be touched so gently.  His eyes closed to better experience the discovery of the vampire's hands.  They sprung open and he tensed when he was pulled backward but there was something also very erotic about this gesture also.  The foreplay before the bite was a little like how Cain enjoyed his sex; softly, softly, softly, fast and hard.  The association was enough to cause him to stiffen.  The touch on his hair and lips on his neck only served to enhance his thoughts. As Vomas expertly slid fangs into soft flesh, Cain was already hard.