Aristid St. Germain is a creature who lives life on the edge. His appetites increase with each new toy, each new adventure. Part of him realizes he is heading down the path of destruction; the other half doesn't give a damn. The monster deep inside him rages more and more each day, threatening to escape the bounds of civility that chain it.
But someone is watching Aristid, someone closely linked to his past. He's the only man who can control Aristid, and he happens to be the one man Aristid despises. Is it too late to save Aristid, or does he still have a chance for redemption, and a future?
"This moment is no more than the briefest touch, fleeting. Yet it holds everything." Eldric's whisper in the darkness focused Aristid totally on his sire, as did the trailing fingers along his body. It had always been Eldric's favorite method of depriving Aristid of all but his sire's presence.
In the unrelenting blackness, Aristid could see nothing, he could only feel and hear. Eldric's voice filled his senses, and Eldric’stouch sensitized Aristid's body, arousing him as no other could. Feelings he had no voice for occupied his mind to the exclusion of anything else.
The heated press of Eldric's lips to his chest drew a sigh from Aristid as the skillful mouth toyed with his nipple. Eldric's hand drifted over willing skin from Aristid's chest to his hip, leaving Aristid aching for more. The parade of lovers Aristid had taken paled in comparison to the ease with which his sire aroused him with no more than soft whispers and teasing touches. Eldric hadn't even ventured near Aristid's cock and already Aristid's body was lit with a fire that had him groaning in need.
He couldn't exist, didn't want to exist without the strength and solid grounding Eldric always gave him. His mind sought out Eldric's, wanting his place within it, and his sire welcomed him. No matter that Aristid did have other lovers, they could never fulfill all that Aristid demanded. Only Eldric did so with ease, never begrudging Aristid the least of his desires.
Eldric wanted his blood tonight. The sharp drag of his sire's fangs at his chest betrayed it. Aristid answered him with a hiss, entangling his fingers in Eldric's hair to draw his sire to his throat. Feeling the exquisite, piercing sting, he held Eldric to him. Waves of pleasure followed, strengthening the ache of his body to a near agonizing level. With no more than the curl of Eldric's hand to his cock, Aristid drowned in the resulting flood that overwhelmed him.
Aristid St. Germain opened his eyes and the memory of the dream blended with his waking consciousness. Snarling in agitation, he abruptly sat up and tugged impatiently at the bell pull beside his bed. He refused to spare any time dwelling on the past. His sire had chosen to leave Aristid three hundred years ago. Eldric chose to sleep, to divorce himself from life, and Aristid no longer had any use for him.
After getting out of bed, Aristid grabbed his dressing gown and slipped it on. He had much more entertaining matters to attend to, and he dismissed the last lingering effect of the dream with ruthless determination.