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Blood Ties

By Willa Shakespeare
Page 3 of 11

Avon felt oddly bereft when Blake left. He realized now that he'd felt Blake's presence ever since he woke, knowing, on a subconscious level, how far away Blake was, and in what direction. If, as seemed likely, that awareness went both ways, any escape attempt was fore-doomed.

Well, if Blake was a monster, at least he was one with a conscience. He'd promised Avon his freedom, eventually. Was temporary slavery preferable to suicide? He couldn't decide, not yet. Physical depletion made thought difficult. He looked at the food. He was hungry. He'd lost track of time, but it was more than a day since he'd eaten. He couldn't even remember what it had been.

He sat at the table, wondering if his calm acceptance of the situation was entirely natural- or had Blake influenced him without his knowledge? He shook his head, and pulled the platter closer.


"Blake." Avon sat up, wide awake and more than a little alarmed. He'd not meant to fall asleep, just lie down for a few minutes. The room was dim and Blake a large, shadowy figure sitting on the other side of the bed. He swallowed nervously. "I take it you haven't come to discuss terrorist activities," he commented, once his eyes adjusted. Blake naked was even more imposing than usual. Particularly in his present state of arousal. Did everything about the man have to be larger than life? Avon thought, almost hysterically.

"No, I have another purpose, at the moment." Blake reached out, hesitantly. Avon shrank from his touch. Blake said, softly, "If it helps, Avon, this isn't any easier on me than you."

"I don't see anyone forcing you to do this."

"I have no choice!" Blake shouted, before lowering his voice. "I can't describe the compulsion, but it's real, and it gets worse the longer I resist." He paused, then added reluctantly, "The... desire can be partially satisfied by sex with one of my...victims."

"And how did you make this discovery?"

"By accident. I had kept a captured Federation agent alive, to interrogate. After I...took from him without killing him, I found myself drawn to him." Blake stopped, seeing Avon's revulsion. "If you want, I can make it easier on you."

"No," Avon said sharply, "I won't fight you, Blake, isn't that enough?" He began removing his clothes.

"It won't be as bad as you think, Avon."

"I don't really care anymore, Blake." He laughed, coldly. "I've been screwed over, one way or another, all my life. Why not by you, too?" He dropped the last garment to the floor and returned to the bed. For all his cynical bravado, he couldn't prevent himself from shivering.

"Shh." Blake pulled Avon against his chest and wrapped his arms around the other man, moaning when their bodies met. "Don't be afraid. Relax." He lowered Avon to the bed. Avon started to turn over, anticipating Blake's next move. "Don't," Blake stopped him. "I want to see your face."

"I don't want to see yours," Avon said through clenched teeth.

"All right," Blake conceded, permitting Avon to settle on his belly, hands knotted into the pillow above his head, arms sheltering his face from sight. Blake picked up a tube of lubricant from the bedside table. "I'm going to prepare you," he warned, before parting the pale cheeks that quivered so temptingly before him.

Avon's fists tightened, but he made no sound as Blake's thick fingers probed deeply, thoroughly coating him with the slippery substance. When Blake urged him to spread himself, his legs clamped together. He was unable to over-ride the involuntary reaction. "I can't," he whispered. "Please, Blake, don't."

"I have to." Blake forced Avon's legs apart, quickly kneeling between them. Thinking that lengthy preparations would only heighten Avon's fear and make his muscle tension worse, Blake held Avon down firmly with one hand on the back of his neck. He set himself at Avon's opening, excitement making him tremble nearly as much as Avon. His push coincided with Avon's sudden panicked struggle. Caught off balance, Blake lost his grip and slipped to one side. His iron control snapped. He'd tried so hard not to hurt him, waited so long, and the little bastard dared to fight him?

Blake roared with rage and leaped upon Avon, forcing him back into position. Avon was shouting now, but the rushing blood in Blake's ears deafened him- whether Avon was cursing or pleading would have made no difference to him, anyway. He forced Avon's head down into the pillow, unconcerned about the possibility of suffocation and grabbed Avon's ass, whacking him hard to let him know who was boss.

Avon fought for another minute, squirming away from the beating and trying to raise his head from the pillow. His head was spinning and his buttocks on fire before he realized Blake could easily kill him by accident. He forced himself to stop fighting. He went completely limp, hoping the lack of resistance would get through. The heavy hand lifted from his neck. Avon gasped desperately after air. Nothing was as important as drawing a lung-full of oxygen. Not even the burning pain of Blake's furious entry. He cried out sharply. It felt like he was being torn in two. Blake's hands clamped down on Avon's hips, turning him, tugging him up until he was arranged to suit Blake's pleasure, kneeling with his rump in the air and his shoulders flattened to the bed.

Blake grunted. Now he could relieve himself. All day he'd been thinking about Avon, wanting the firm round ass the other man loved to flaunt in his tight leathers. He thrust hard, holding Avon's waist to anchor him. Lovely, Avon was tight as a virgin, and nicely warmed from the spanking. He moaned, loving the caress of Avon, all silk and satin surrounding Blake's aching hardness. His balls slapped heavily against Avon's soft skinned ass, stimulating him even further. Faster, harder, he had to have all of Avon. He rose onto his toes, lengthening his strokes, powerful hips driving him hilt-deep into the flushed rosy rump beneath him. He dug in deep, then froze, bellowing, as his climax hit, locking his muscles as he came, flooding Avon with his seed. He collapsed then, taking Avon down to lie beneath him. He lay quietly, enjoying the throbbing of his still firm cock in its comfortable refuge. Slowly, he came back to reality. "Avon?" Abruptly, he pulled himself loose and turned Avon over. "Are you all right?"

Avon wiped blood away from his mouth. He'd bitten his lip more than once, trying to keep silent. "You were right, Blake," he said, proud of the steadiness of his voice, "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It was worse." And the most horrible part, which he would never tell Blake, was that something inside wanted to surrender to Blake. Wanted to be held, and loved by someone with a capacity for loving even the unlovable. Better to fight, and turn it into rape, than to give in- no, he'd never give in to Blake.

"Damn it, Avon. You had to know what fighting me would mean. I told you..." Blake trailed off. He was staring at Avon's neck, at the vein pulsing there. "Are you hurt?"

"I have been better." Avon eyed Blake with misgiving. The other man was looking at him with unmistakable hunger. "You can't possibly..."

"Yes, I can. I'm not quite human any more, Avon." Blake shook his head. "If I've hurt you, then I can take your blood instead."

"Oh, I have my choice of perversions?"

"Avon." Blake looked grim. "The longer you make me wait, the less control I have- either way."

Avon turned aside. "I don't know how badly I'm injured. But I would rather not lose any more blood."

"Lie down and let me check." Blake examined the stiff figure lying before him. "You were lucky," he decided. "Bruises, mostly, a small tear." He sprayed antibiotic and sealant on the tear. "You'll be sore, but you'll live." He tried to make it a joke, but the relief in his voice was obvious. He rested his hand gently on Avon's shoulder. "I've killed so many people, Avon. And I wanted none of it."

Avon rolled up on one elbow and stared at Blake. "You are amazing, you know that, Blake? You expect me to feel sorry for you?"

"No. I expect you to hate me. I can't afford to care about anything but the rebellion." He stared at Avon. "Now, which will it be?"

Avon lay down on his back. "Perhaps it would be a good idea if I kept an eye on you."

"Just don't fight me."

Avon didn't answer. He was battered and bruised and worst of all, helpless. If he knew how to kill Blake, he would have done it in an instant. Some of that must have showed.

Blake sighed. He'd sworn to himself that he would be patient and gentle with Avon. But it had been such a long time, and Avon had always stirred his passions- always could infuriate him with nothing more than his sullen, petulant silences. He carefully lowered himself, keeping his weight on knees and elbows. Avon turned his head aside as Blake attempted to kiss him.

"Let me, Avon," Blake said softly. "Please?"

Grudgingly, Avon permitted it. The large hands that had hurt him so badly only minutes ago were now tender, sifting through his hair, rubbing delicately along his neck and shoulders. A peculiar warm tingling followed the touches, reaching into the tissues and soothing his aches. Startled, Avon gazed down at his chest. Moments ago, there had been an ugly, purpling bruise there. As Blake stroked, the bruise changed, going green, then yellow, finally fading entirely. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

"I don't know." Blake said with wonder. He'd wanted to make Avon feel better and it seemed he could. He touched Avon's bitten lip, watching as the split flesh merged and smoothed, healed in seconds. "I never did this before. It's the way I heal, but I've never been able to do it for anyone else." He urged Avon to roll over and ran his hands down Avon's backside, seeking out all the injuries he'd caused. When he'd finished, he continued stroking, concentrating on Avon's pleasure.

Avon moaned. The touches had changed. The tingling was stronger, exciting now. He shifted his hips, rubbing his developing erection against the rough sheets.

Blake noticed and eased Avon onto his back once more. He smiled. "That's better, isn't it?"

"You know damn well it is." Avon gasped as Blake ran his hand lightly up and down Avon's penis. "Trying to salve your guilty conscience?"

With a wicked grin, Blake produced the tube of lubricant. "I'd rather salve you." He spread it over Avon's penis and brought him to full erection with a few firm strokes. "I think we'll do better this time." He lifted Avon's rump, shoving a couple of pillows underneath.

Aroused, Avon made no protest this time as Blake probed him. The slow, sensuous rubbing inside relaxed his muscles after an initial tensing. Keeping one hand busy caressing Avon's cock and the other fingers rhythmically circling inside his ass, Blake continued until Avon was flushed, jerking in response to his least touch.

He knelt between Avon's legs, drawing the knees up to rest on his shoulders. He leaned forward, slowly, carefully.

Avon stiffened, then relaxed by a deliberate act of will. It was one thing to tell himself not to fight this invasion, but his body expected pain.

"Oh, Avon." Blake fondled him a moment longer, then guided himself into place. It was even sweeter this time, entering Avon. He'd felt Avon's pain before, and it had added to his rage. He'd hurt them both in his anger. This was something he'd been missing for years. Whether Avon realized it or not, Blake was making love to him. He pushed in slowly, then withdrew slightly and rocked back in again. He moaned and flexed his arms, lowering his chest so that he could kiss Avon while he thrust. Avon didn't struggle, in fact he lifted his head to meet Blake, his eyes mazed and unfocused with desire.

It was very strange, Avon thought. He had hated Blake just minutes ago, and now, he was lying in Blake's arms, hot and panting for him. He'd never experienced anything like it. He could swear he knew what Blake was feeling- even what he was thinking. He smiled, amused by the romantic notions running through Blake's curly-haired skull. He closed his eyes, giving in to the sensations, arching up into the strong body covering his, rubbing himself along the smooth, sweaty belly that moved in counterpoint. Nothing hurt, not even the stretched fullness of his ass accepting Blake. He jerked with surprise as a deep, slow thrust sent thrills of electric pleasure along his nerves, racing up his spine. "Blake!" He writhed, forcing himself further onto Blake, seeking that elusive, marvelous sensation.

"Avon." Blake changed the angle of his thrusts, knowing what his lover desired. Yes, his lover. He began frantically kissing Avon, face, shoulders, neck, anyplace he could reach. For once, he had no urge to seek blood, even though Avon's neck was vulnerable, exposed veins faintly blue beneath the fine skin. The passion and closeness were enough. His hips gyrated wildly, faster and harder with each plunge into Avon's warm, welcoming depths. He reached out, chasing some wonderful prize, he and Avon together. Knowing when the moment came for Avon, he captured Avon's mouth with his own, taking Avon's shriek of release into himself. His penis was held, squeezed incredibly tight by rippling contractions. He pressed himself in, merging with Avon, fusing them into one being, one creature who pulsed in pleasure, giving and taking in one all-consuming blaze.

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