"Janrae Frank - Dark Brothers of the Light 01 - Blood Rites" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frank Janrae)

tilted invitingly, the nipples hard and erect against the silk. She
enjoyed the way he had to fight his impulse to reach for them.
"Bodramet," the sa'necari answered, breathing hard, his thick
member shoving against his pants.
"That is a nice name," Anksha purred, pressing herself against him,
rubbing his hardness with her thigh. "Would you like to walk with me
tomorrow?"
Bodramet trembled, his eyes growing large with lust and need.
"Yes. Yes, I would like that."
"Come for me at Lord Darmungaard's at noon. Do not be late."
Anksha smiled like a cat with a small bird between its paws. She
would have her fangs into him and the dominance-link set before
sunset tomorrow.
"I won't be."
"Wear something without a collar," Anksha told him, stroking her
finger along his neck. "I want your neck to present nicely."
"I will. I promise."
Hoon smiled at the rest of the sa'necaris, "Please continue. I would
not wish you to suffer from an unfinished rite."
The others began to work themselves up again. Two climbed
nervously onto their victims, and Hoon laughed.
Anksha returned to Mephistis. "We need to talk." She crooked her
finger at him and they left the basement. "Show me your rooms."
Mephistis led her upstairs to his suite on the second floor, opened
the door, and stepped aside. "You're going to take them all, aren't
you?" Mephistis's voice shook.
"Yes," Anksha replied, stalking past on the balls of her feet. "One at
a time they will all beg me to bite them and I will. One is missing.
Where is the one you call Isranon?"
"He's gone to the theater with friends."
"Then I will get to him later."
"Not Isranon. Please not Isranon." Mephistis caught at her arm, an
edge of desperation cracking his voice. "Please, not Isranon."
Anksha cocked her head at him, her eyes filling with an odd mix of
curiosity and anger. "Because you love him?"
"Yes. I love him. He's my only friend."
Anksha growled. "Don't beg. It's too late to beg. I should take him
now, simply because you love him. I should make you watch while I
tear him apart. Do not anger me and I will leave him for last. Because
he is the weakest in magic. I did not like what I found you doing."
Mephistis knew that other sa'necari noticed Isranon, just as Anksha
did, the burnished shine of his skin and the heavy curling black hair
that the youth caught casually at his neck. It was impossible not to.
The sa'necari were an arrogant lot, but there was no arrogance to
Isranon, just a simple stubborn pride. He held to himself, spoke to
none, and went about his business, yet he stole the notice from the
others. Those were some of the reasons that Mephistis loved him.
Mephistis trembled violently, knowing what was coming. She
might take blood or sex or both. His body was not his own. She could
separate his mind from the rest of him so that he became a