"What do you mean you can’t go?!" Brian screeched as Dillon avoided getting involved in the couples’ fight.

"It’s work. You knew that this might happen," Steven said calmly as Brian yelled at him.

"But what will he think? I’ll be all alone and everyone will laugh at me. It’s supposed to be my big night, Stev," Brian wheedled.

"He already knows I don’t like him. He might be your mentor but he is one cool bastard, any man that never takes a lover for more than an few hours or has no close friends is far from the kind of man I want to associate with. He might be a genius but he is creepy Brian, that house of his and his looks are just too much. I’m not going to go to that exhibition just so we don’t offend him and lose a contract on top of it. Take Dillon, and show him off. We both know that he will draw a lot of attention considering how that piece came out. It might even outshine his," Steven said buttoning up his shirt.

"Get out you bastard," Brian screamed throwing a shoe at the man that Steven agilely dodged laughing as he exited the room.

Dillon remained quiet not wanting to provoke the man further. Over the past week he had seen the temperamental man go off more than once, and now he knew why Steven called him princess. He was spoiled, selfish and only thought about his work, at least most of the time. Still, it seemed like Steven actually enjoyed provoking the smaller man into fits of fury and watching him explode only to laugh at him and later coddle him. Dillon on the other hand would have preferred less screeching and was glad the week was up.

"What am I going to put on you?" Brian said whirling around to pin Dillon with his eyes.

"I could go home and get some more appropriate clothes," Dillon suggested.

"I’m not letting you out of my sight, you’re better than nothing, and I’m not going to it alone. Go get in the shower and shave," Brian said with a wave of his hand, shooing him out of the studio.

When he got out he was surprised to find Brian waiting for him, clothes in his hand glowering. Dillon reached out to take the clothes surprised to find they were his exact size.

"He knew he wasn’t going, damn him. He already had those prepared for you," Brian pouted with tears in his eyes.

Dillon left the man and went into his room to change, shaking his head. He hadn’t expected to be dragged to the art exhibition featuring the painting of him. He had to admit that it was beyond exceptional. Brian had made him an angel that was breathtakingly beautiful, so much so, that he had a hard time accepting that it was him. Bound in chains exuding a fierce passion, the piece was so dark and sexually charged that it shocked him a little. He had never seen himself in that way, but Brian had said simply it was him and Steven had agreed totally with him.

Despite the fact the artwork had been carted away early that morning Steven had insisted he stay the final day and now he knew why. He had planned to use Dillon as a stand in for him and make him escort Brian throughout the night. He wasn’t sure if he should be pleased or not although there was a chance to get more work.

"Come on, we need to be there early," Brian said entering his room impatiently.

"I’m ready," Dillon said as he followed the man out of the apartment.

The ride to the exhibition was quiet as he could tell Brian was still pouting over Steven’s abandonment of him. Dillon had to privately concede it was rather shitty of the man not to be there on Brian’s big night. This was the first time his art would be displayed with his mentor’s. Dillon had only heard snippets of conversations about the mysterious man, but apparently he had taken Brian under his wing five years ago and had given him advice and critiques of his works helping the man to improve. Now five years later, the man had given Brian the challenge of creating a piece without his help that would be worthy to display at his exhibition.

Brian over the past two months had created countless pieces only to discard them in despair. His latest piece featuring Dillon was his last ditch effort to complete his mentor’s challenge.

"Come on," Brian said getting out of the car his nerves clearly showing.

They walked across the now darkening street into the building. They were greeted politely and lead into the main gallery where few people were already gathered. Dillon looked around at the gorgeous paintings of mythological beasts and things out of legend. They were so detailed and vibrant they seemed to pull him into their worlds provoking a strong reaction from him. Without even realizing it he walked over to a painting of a dragon on an ice cover peak mesmerized by the beauty of it. It wasn’t until Brian put a hand on his shoulder a few moments later that he came back to reality.

"It’s amazing isn’t it? That piece will sell for over five hundred thousand," Brian said.

"How does he do it?" Dillon asked never having been so affected by a simple picture.

"I don’t know, nobody does, although he is one artist that never allows prints of his work. That picture is a one of kind and only one person will ever own it," Brian said shaking his head.

"Where is he?" Dillon asked curiously looking around the room trying to guess which one was Brian’s mysterious mentor.

"He isn’t here yet," Brian said shaking his head.

"Brian, he is here. He wants to see you now," a man said as he approached them rather agitated.

Brian nodded leaving Dillon to gaze at the artwork yet again wondering about the artist even as he heard the man who had come to get Brian whispering to another close to him.

"He is offering Brian over a half a million for the painting, before the exhibition even starts," the man whispered.

"Is it really that good? Beside it will have to remain here for a while."

"I don’t know, he is really agitated about it, something about the model...."

Dillon stiffed as the two drifted away from him. Brian’s mentor was interested in him? Enough to pay an excessive amount of money for the painting of him? He wondered what was going on and turned to see if he could spot Brian when his eyes were drawn to a large towering man with long flowing black hair in the center of the room.

Without even thinking he strode towards the man even as he heard his voice call out in a deep voice to the man.

"Aziral"

The man looked up with complete shock on his face as Dillon advanced on him. Memories tumbled around Dillon in a mixed up jumble as he ran at the man his fist raised and he solidly connected with the man’s face. The man staggered as time seemed to slow, people shouting, and Brian’s face in absolute horror. Dillon’s mind whirled furiously even as he continued to attack the man, not even knowing why he was doing it. Before he knew it he found himself captured by the overpowering man and crushed against a familiar chest, but it was different far different from his memories. It was so warm almost hot compared to the memories of an ice cold body pressed firmly against his own.

"We’ll take care of this, sir," one of the guards said reaching out for Dillon.

"I think not," the man said pulling Dillon closer to him. "If you will excuse us."

"You can’t be serious, he just attacked you," the guard protested.

The man leveled the guard with a stare that made the guard back up gulping a little under the sharp grey eyes. Dillon felt himself half dragged out of the room with Brian following close behind apologizing profusely to the point of babbling.

"Enough Brian, see to our guests. I will take care of this," the man said before closing the door firmly shut. He turned loose Dillon who spun away from him glaring at the man completely confused but knowing this man was dangerous and was somehow connected to the attack on him three weeks ago.

"What the fuck are you?" Dillon demanded.

"I’m an artist, a painter to be exact. My name is Aziral. I would be interested to know how you know my name, perhaps Brian told you," Aziral questioned calmly.

"Like hell you’re a painter," Dillon growled his hand going to his neck again as he remembered the pain, even as Aziral’s eyes widened.

"I never thought to see you again my wildcat," Aziral said looking at Dillon hungrily.

"What did you do to me? I can’t remember," Dillon demanded ready to attack the man again even as he found him trapped by the staring man eyes.

"Well there is at least that much although you shouldn’t even remember me nor know my name. I’ve tried to stay away from you but here you are seeking me out," Aziral said advancing on Dillon even as he shed his jacket and started to remove his tie.

"Get away from me," Dillon said raising his fists and backing up as the large man far more muscular than Dillon had ever tried to fight before approached him.

Suddenly he found himself against the wall even as he let his fist fly into the man’s stomach protesting at the hardness of the surface. Aziral caught his fist pulling him close as he leaned down to kiss him deeply, Aziral’s rigid body pressing against his own.

"Stop it," Dillon growled trying desperately to ignore how gorgeous the powerful man was.

"Do you really want me to stop? I know my body doesn’t want to even if my mind is screaming to let you go. You are so dangerous wildcat, so very dangerous and unknown, yet I can’t stop myself," Aziral whispered even as his mouth caressed Dillon’s neck bring goose bumps to his skin.

"Who are you?" Dillon asked again biting his lip as Aziral’s hand reached into his pants to seize his half hard organ in his incredibly warm hand.

"I’m your slave wildcat. Your blood still sings within me after all this time," Aziral said confusingly even as Dillon lost track of the conversation once the man began to stroke his ever growing sex.

It was wrong, he should be fighting this man, this stranger, yet he couldn’t resist the stunningly handsome man that was touching him so incitingly. There was something about his dark grey eyes so different from Dillon’s own and the intensity in them that seemed to devour Dillon. His darker nature started to take over as his body begged to let Aziral continue.

Dillon stopped fighting himself and threw himself against the man ripping the man’s shirt to expose the pale luminescent skin underneath. His mouth found the man’s nipple and latched on sucking and biting as Aziral growled in pleasure, his hand entangling in Dillon’s scarlet hair tightly. It wasn’t long before Dillon found himself totally unclothed almost frantically caressing the hard body pressing against him.

He felt the man’s slick fingers slide up into him wondering for a moment where he had gotten the lube only for the thoughts to be swept away by the man seizing his mouth in a deep kiss. It wasn’t long before he was pushing against the man’s fingers wantonly craving deeper penetration when Aziral leaned against the edge of a nearby table his hard sex jutting out. Dillon turned and pushed himself back on the man fully impaling his body with a moan of delight. He felt Aziral guide his hips along his long length panting and growling fiercely even as Dillon’s hands worked down his own long member frantically.

Aziral batted his hand away only to take his inflamed organ in his large hand as Dillon pushed back against the man feeling an arm wrap around him pulling him against rock hard abs. Dillon turned his head to kiss the man, his tongue tracing Aziral’s lips. Pulling away he rocked on the impaling member, gasping in ecstasy at the pleasure he had not felt in way to long, ignoring his mind that was frantically protesting his actions.

He could hear Aziral’s deep penetrating voice crying out in lust as Dillon worked himself on the searing member inside of him. Whatever this man had been he was far different from the cold phantom of his memories. Unable to control himself any longer, he released his pent up lust in jets of white cream that splattered to the grey floor beneath them. He continued to rock quickly on Aziral despite his release, enjoying the man’s deep growling until finally he felt the large arm crush his body against Aziral’s as the man cried out loudly, his teeth sinking into Dillon’s neck even as the door opened to reveal Brian looking at them in stunned amazement mixed with anger on his delicate face.

"He’s mine now, Brian," Aziral said nuzzling Dillon’s neck as he hung on the man’s body still impaled by his slowly deflating member inside of him.

"Of...of course Aziral," Brian stammered backing away and closing the door.

"I thought it was the other way around," Dillon said trying to pull away from the man and straighten out his thoughts.

"In private wildcat, in private," Aziral said tightening his grip.

"Then if you belong to me tell me what the fuck you did to me? And stop mauling me, damn it," Dillon said pulling away with more strength.

"You smell of sex, I can’t help it. I want more, I have restrained myself to long," Aziral said almost longingly his dark gray eyes pleading with Dillon.

"That’s because you just fucked me, now tell me what is going on," Dillon said.

"Tonight after the exhibition, although you won’t believe me," Aziral said getting up and looking down at his torn white shirt.

"Now," Dillon insisted.

Aziral glared at him his dark eyes seeming to glow red although Dillon remained firm glaring up at the man determined not to back down. Instead of being afraid he once again felt a fierce joy rise up inside of him threatening to overwhelm him. He wanted to push this dangerous man and see what happened. He wanted to spark the memories deep inside of him threatening to escape.

"Don’t look at me like that or I really will ravage you again," Aziral said his deep voice echoing through Dillon.

Dillon shuddered a little at the thought of being ravaged again his body wanting nothing more than to attack the man licking every crevice and curve of the strong masculine body even as his mind was literally screaming in protest. He was completely confused and torn between wanting to knock the man to the ground beating him senseless and wanting to fuck him senseless, yet neither one of them made any sense at all. Growling in absolute frustration he spun away from the infuriating man and retrieved his scattered clothes from the floors starting to dress with his back on the man.

When he was completely clothed feeling he had gotten some of his composer back he turned to find Aziral still unclothed looking at him with a look so full of lust that Dillon stalked across the room pushing the man the few feet back to the wall slamming him into it even as he kissed him. He could feel the man’s arms pulling him close in what was becoming a familiar crushing embrace as his lip and tongue sought possession of Dillon. The both remained pinned against the wall fiercely exploring each other when a tentative knock came at the door.

After a few moments a louder more insistent knock along with the curator of the exhibition’s voice suggesting Aziral was needed in the main room. Dillon broke their kiss even as the starved man tried to keep him.

"Let go now," Dillon hissed softly his face incredibly close to Aziral’s. He looked into the dark gray eyes surprised to see flecks of vibrant red. Being so close to the man he was unable to pass it off as though he were seeing things and once again wondered who this man really was.

"Very well," Aziral sighed letting Dillon go.

Dillon watched as the man stripped out of his ruined white shirt and put his jacket on with a shrug. Despite the ridiculousness of the outfit Dillon couldn’t help but admit with the rippling hard chest and the almost arrogant air that settled over the man it didn’t look half bad. It made him look even more sexual if that was even possible and Dillon found himself hard pressed not to pin the man against the wall again.

"Come you will stay by my side," Aziral commanded.

"Like hell, I don’t take orders from anyone," Dillon shot back stepping back away from the man.

"You will stay by my side," Aziral said again looking deeply into Dillon’s eyes as he felt something stir within his mind.

"Are you deaf?" Dillon asked a little shaken although trying not to show it.

"What is it with you wildcat? Why won’t you obey me like the others?" Aziral said softly almost to himself.

"Sorry I’m just a street punk; your illustrious presence doesn’t do it for me. Besides why would I listen to a guy that landed me in the hospital? I know you had something to do with it," Dillon said glaring at the man.

"Then why did you pounce on me?" Aziral replied with a smirk.

"fuck you," Dillon said angrily turning towards the door ready to open it when a hand slammed against it holding the door firmly in place.

"I’m sorry, please don’t leave my side and I promise I will explain everything," Aziral whispered next to his ear as he felt a tongue glide down the tiger on his neck licking at the bite marks that been left during their passionate sex.

"Ah...don’t do that," Dillon protested weakly all the fight going out of him again.

"No, I shouldn’t but ..."

Suddenly a hand pounded at the door again breaking them apart. Aziral sighed opening the door to a tall willowy man dressed in black with glasses. Dillon remembered the man as the one that greeted Brian when they had first entered the building. He was also rather unsurprised to see Brian standing next to the man looking distinctly uneasy as he glanced from his mentor to Dillon.

"I’m sorry but many of our guests are concerned. The guards are waiting to escort this man out," the curator sniffed in distaste as he looked disapprovingly at Dillon.

"I have taken care of the problem, this man is now my lover and I would take it as an offense if anyone touches him," Aziral said in a deep smooth voice as he looked down at the man coolly.

"Love....lover...excuse me this man just attacked you," the man stammered appalled.

Aziral said nothing only stared down at the man until he began to fidget looking away from the intense gray eyes. Brian stepped forward saving the man as he smiled tightly.

"I didn’t know that you two knew each other, I’m glad that you have solved whatever problems the two of you obviously had. Now I know why you wanted the painting so much," Brain babbled.

"We don’t know each other," Dillon snapped bluntly.

"Ah..." Brian stopped looking at Dillon in shock.

"It isn’t important, let us get this over with. You have done well, Brian, regardless of who you used as a model. You have finally mastered the fundamentals that I’ve taught you. Now it is up to you to expand on them," Aziral said looking down at the delicate blond.

"But there is so much more I want to learn from you," Brian protested.

"So you can copy me?" Aziral said calmly.

"No of course not, but there is still so much..." Brian started only to stop defeated by the look in Aziral’s eyes.

"Brian you have talent otherwise I won’t have taken you on as my protégée. Now is the time for you to find yourself and what your artwork means to you. Anything else you could learn from me would only confuse you and stunt your growth. I will still look over your art, Brian, but no more suggestions or techniques," Aziral said firmly.

Brian remained quiet as Aziral stepped around him and headed into the large room filled with artwork and people. Dillon followed behind him feeling a little sorry for Brian, it didn’t seem like it was the man’s day. First his lover not coming with him and now his mentor is cutting him free from the apron strings. He knew after a week of modeling for the man he was still very insecure about his work and talent. More than likely Aziral’s praise was a great source of inspiration for the man.

Dillon felt all eyes focus on him as he followed Aziral. He could hear the whispers that seemed to float around him and the surprised look on their faces when Aziral casually touched him guiding him closer to the overpowering man as he talked with one of the patrons. In an unobtrusive way Aziral was flaunting his ownership of Dillon to the whole room as his hand remained on the low of Dillon’s back. It was obvious Dillon’s actions when he had first seen Aziral had already circled around the room and everyone was completely confused by the turn events.

Frowning a little he tried to ignore the stares and the subtle questions about him that Aziral handled with ease. Instead he focused on his own confusing mix of feelings. Aziral. Where had he heard that name, not from Brian? He knew without a doubt this man was the one that had attacked him three weeks ago. His body remembered even if his mind didn’t, he raised his hand to his neck feeling the two small openings. What was this man? A vampire? It seemed so ridiculous in this modern age even to think such a thing. It wasn’t possible, yet he had been drained of blood, and now the marks on his neck. They couldn’t have been made by human teeth and besides he had intimately explored the man’s mouth and there were no fangs in that hot cavern, yet there hadn’t been any puncture wounds on him at the hospital either. None of the facts made any sense to him.

His mind chased around the facts that he knew as he struggled with memories of that night that were still clouded. His response to this mysterious man was far from normal and that was what worried him the most. Aziral was dangerous in more ways than one. Not just because this man landed him in the hospital but because of his strong sexual response towards Aziral. His ass still remembered the feeling of the ridged sex deep within him and the feeling of the man’s incredibly soft hands everywhere on his body.

Dillon shook his head slightly moving his thoughts away from what had just happened even as he felt his sex harden. He was impatient for the showing to be over and stood frowning intensely until finally he moved away from Aziral to look at some of the art hoping to distract himself from his messed up thought, only to feel the man capture his wrist. He impatiently shook the hand away with a glare and stalked away from the man.

He could feel eyes on him knowing they thought that they were lovers and were quarreling. Snorting he looked at the artwork in front of him surprised to see a couple in the artwork in front of him. A beautiful male with a large masculine body and large beautiful black wings, black hair swirled around the character, his face filled with anguish as he held almost tenderly in his arms a very old woman with her eyes closed. Dillon could feel the raw emotions coming from the piece and despite the contrast of the beautiful man and the old withered woman it was a stunning piece. It wasn’t until Brian came up to him that he looked away from the scene almost feeling like a little voyeur looking into such a private intimate moment.

"What’s going on with you and Aziral? I didn’t know that you even knew him, he isn’t the type to... well you know? There is no need for him too, so many will sleep with him for free," Brian whispered.

"Like I fucking know?" Dillon snorted, thudding back to reality with the question more than a little annoyed.

"Dillon," Brian said urgently.

"You wouldn’t believe even if I told you," Dillon sighed. "I don’t think I even believe it."

"Don’t get involved with him," Brian whispered.

"What I thought he was like a god to you," Dillon said in surprise looking at the man.

"He is a genius painter, but Dillon, personally Steven is right. Even though I’ve been with him for five years he has never taken a lover ever. The ones he does take to his bed he treats almost coldly. He refuses to be seen during the day and lives virtually alone. I don’t even think he has any close friends and nobody really knows anything about him other than his paintings," Brian whispered softly looking over his shoulder at Aziral.

"I’m just a paid whore, don’t worry about me," Dillon said feeling a sense of uneasiness rise inside of him again.

"Oh, I think you were never a very good whore, were you wildcat? Unless of course you desired your client," Aziral said coming up from behind them.

"Shut up," Dillon said.

"It’s time to go," Aziral said.

"But it is early," Brian protested looking up at Aziral concerned.

"You can take of the rest," Aziral shrugged taking hold of Dillon’s arm and leading him out of the building.

"Hold it, who said I was going anywhere with you?" Dillon said.

"You want to know the truth right? Well you can’t learn it here, and besides I want to go some place where I can ravish you," Aziral said arching a brow.

"And that is suppose to make me trust you," Dillon said exasperated, even as his groin tightened at the thought.

Aziral turned to him on the darkened street his gray eyes looking deeply at him for a moment before he stepped back a pace holding up his arms.

"Your choice wildcat, walk away now and never know the truth or follow me and find out more than you ever wanted to know," Aziral said softly.

Dillon ground his teeth in frustration the man knew, he knew the Dillon couldn’t turn away. He wouldn’t run from anyone.

"Fine," Dillon growled angrily.

Aziral nodded and it wasn’t long before Dillon found himself in a black Mercedes speeding down the road. Dillon remained quiet as he shifted in his seat uncomfortable and nervous. He glanced at the man out of the corner of his eyes and he leaned against the door.

"You mind if I smoke?" Dillon asked finally.

"Go ahead," Aziral chuckled.

Dillon looked at him for a moment before he lit up. He rarely smoked except for whenever he was nervous, stressed, or tired he found himself lighting up. The nicotine coursed through his system as he looked out at the darkened streets that passed by wondering where he was going. He had called the old hag and told her he would be by to see her tomorrow and he hoped that he wouldn’t have to go have way across the city to get back to her apartment, since he had left his bike at Brian’s.

"So are you going to tell me?" Dillon said finally.

"You’re very impatient," Aziral said with a chuckle.

"Sue me; I was in the hospital for two days. I was almost dead, and I know you were responsible," Dillon said with heat.

"When we get to my home, wildcat, we are almost there," Aziral said frowning.

"Why do you call me that? My name is Dillon."

"Because when I first saw you, punching and kicking at those helpless men, I thought that is what you looked like. Fierce, deadly, so very free and overflowing with life," Aziral replied pulling his car up to a gate and pressing the numbers on the security pad to let him in.

Dillon remained quiet as the car slowly entered pulling up the slight hill to a large two story Victorian house surrounded by lush trees. Parking his car in the garage Aziral lead them into the house to the entrance hall. A huge sweeping stair case lead up to the second floor reminding Dillon of the grand opulence of a gothic movie. The house seemed dark with its deep reds and black interior with fantasy paintings depicting fierce monsters.

"So what are you, a vampire? This home is fit for Dracula," Dillon said half joking as Aziral lead him up the stairs to the second floor.

"It is a little cliché perhaps. Still, last century I was attracted to bright vivid colors and my artwork focused more on fairies and unicorns back then, and my decor was light and airy I guess you could say. My tastes shift every hundred years or so, you caught me in a rather morbid phase, I suppose," Aziral said causally as Dillon stopped and stared at the man.

"What surely you know, wildcat? You have given every indication that you do despite your vocal protests for information," Aziral said.

"You’re out of your mind. Vampires, DO NOT exist," Dillon said looking at the man with wide blue eyes.

"Maybe they don’t," Aziral said pushing open a door to large darken room.

He flicked on the lights that flooded the large room with lush black carpeting and deep red walls decorated with yet more of Aziral’s art. The large rectangular room without a single window was sunk in almost five feet with a walkway lining the entire circumference of the room providing a walkway of exquisite art. Down in the main part of the room sat a luxurious canopy bed with a night stand close to it. A large flat screen TV hung on the wall at eye level to the bed as lines of shelves containing a multitude of DVDs and video games stood against three of the walkway’s walls.

It was an absurd looking room especially with the multitude of candles that hung on the walls of the room and tall stands meant to hold even more of them. He felt Aziral pull him down into the main part of the room Aziral’s hands wondering over his body.

Dillon tried to pull away and not get swept away yet again despite his body’s protests at his restraint. A hot mouth caught his own lips once again as he felt the man’s ridged sex press against him. He moaned in protest as his struggling became less.

"You haven’t told me anything," Dillon said even as he felt a hand move to unbutton his pants.

"How about I show you," Aziral hissed.

Suddenly he felt Aziral’s mouth clamp down on his neck and the prick of pain as teeth once again sunk into the tiger on his neck. He tried to pull away, yet he felt Aziral’s arm wrap even tighter around him as his hand slipped down to fondle his rigid sex.

He could feel the blood being pulled from his body slowly as Aziral grinded his tense body against him. As quickly as Aziral had begun he stopped rising from Dillon’s neck with a deep animalistic growl as Dillon looked memorized by the sharp fangs that were on display covered with his blood. His mind whirled as he looked at the man unable to accept the uncompromising proof that was before his eyes.

Grey eyes flecked with red looked down at him, yet he didn’t feel any fear only a mounting lust. It was if the taking of his blood had connected him in some way to this monster, driving his lust to another level. Dillon growled knocking the man to the ground with an ease that surprised both of them. He straddled Aziral biting his neck hard in retaliation tasting metallic blood on his lips as he them moved up to kiss the man as he ground his cloth covered ass against thick bulge in his Aziral’s pants.

They both rolled on the thick carpet fighting for dominance as more and more clothes were torn from their bodies in their quest of hot skin. Dillon ground his body against Aziral’s seeking to get even closer to the man as Aziral’s mouth occasional wandered down to Dillon’s neck, his tongue swiping over the puncture marks and sucking at them draw out little amounts of blood that made him growl deeply in satisfaction.

Eventually Aziral pinned him to the floor as he nudged open Dillon’s legs. Dillon lifted his ass for the man, spreading his legs far apart revealing his tight pink opening. He was surprise when the man didn’t plunge into him instantly, instead he knelt down his long tongue darting a cross Dillon’s sensitive skin flickering against the opening as Dillon whimpered in lust. The man’s hot impossibly long tongue teased him slowly licking him in way no one had ever done before.

"Aziral fuck me, now," Dillon commanded letting go of his legs to impatiently pull the man up.

A deep chuckle issued from the man as he rose up inserting the tip of his scarlet member inside of Dillon’s aching hole. Dillon gasped in pleasure wrapping his arms around the man above him pulling the man down to his neck.

"Drink while you fuck me," Dillon panted so lost within the pleasure Aziral was producing in him.

Aziral growled looking at him for a moment before sinking his fangs deep into Dillon’s neck causing Dillon to gasp in pain at the brutal assault on his neck. Aziral thrusted into him awkwardly as he felt the man slowly drink from his body. Dillon’s whole body seemed to be on fire as he felt the hard impaling organ slide in and out of him and his blood pump out of his body. In mere seconds his whole body was covered in sweat straining against the man on top of him.

"Yes, oh god, more Aziral deeper," Dillon cried out as he felt his whole body explode with the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced in his life.

He felt teeth rip away from his neck as Aziral threw his body back his whole face a mask of euphoria as blood dripped down his mouth. Dillon wrapped his legs firmly around the man as he could feel him releasing with in him.

Aziral collapsed on Dillon completely almost crushing him, yet Dillon wrapped an arm around the large man stroking the silken black hair dizzily wondering what he was doing. He had just had the most mind-blowing sex while letting a monster feed on him. He had to be certifiably insane and yet he wasn’t afraid and he found himself totally relaxed.

"What have you done to me?" Aziral asked softly.

"I could ask you the same thing after all I was the one providing lunch," Dillon said tartly.

"You don’t understand. You shouldn’t even remember anything, nor should you be able to quicken my body like you do," Aziral said getting off of Dillon and sitting down on the floor cross-legged.

"How can you fuck anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be the living dead? I didn’t even think vampires could get it up," Dillon asked rolling over on his stomach and propping his head up on his hands.

"When I feed my body becomes alive again, but I need to feed regularly to keep my heart beating and my body warm and responsive. It takes a while for the blood to circulate through my body, yet your blood seems to go right to my prick it seems," Aziral said wryly.

"So what happens if you don’t feed? You die? "Dillon asked fascinated at the unreal conversation he was having.

"I grow old, my body shrivels up, and of course I can’t get it up," Aziral smiled.

"What did you do to me?" Dillon said seriously.

"I mistook you for a street punk picking on the defenseless. You were so savage beating those men to a pulp. I feed only on the scum of the earth playing with their minds as I feed making it impossible for them to commit their crimes again. But when I sunk my fangs into you wildcat I realized my mistake yet I couldn’t stop drinking. Your essence pulled at me, I desired more and more until I almost killed you," Aziral sighed.

"So did you screw with my mind," Dillon sighed tilting his head to rest his check against his hand.

"I thought I took away your memories but you resisted and somehow you took from me as well," Aziral said.

"Your name, huh?"

"Yes, no one has ever fought me like you did. You are a strange one, I’ve never had any contact with my victims besides when I feed from them, but you are different. Ever since that night I have burned with your blood. I’ve resisted the urge to seek you out yet you found me instead," Aziral mused.

"You mean you have never fed while you fuck?" Dillon asked surprised for it seemed as if it had turned the man on greatly to do just that.

"Never, once I feed I find I need release but never while I am feeding," Aziral said shaking his head.

"Well I don’t know about you, but that turned me on even more. Maybe you’re supposed to, what about others?" Dillon asked curiously.

"I have met very few like me over the centuries there are not many of us, and my creator died while making me," Aziral reluctantly.

"Weird, I guess it isn’t like Interview with a vampire after all," Dillon said with a yawn.

"Now what? You going to fuck with my mind to make me forget or just kill me," Dillon asked.

"I do not know, wildcat. You are a mystery to me, even if I tried I doubt I could fully erase your memories and I cannot kill you," Aziral sighed.

"Well then how about you fuck me again?" Dillon asked as he crawled over to the man and lowered his mouth to the large member even as Aziral’s hand entwined in his hair.

Dillon awoke to find himself smothered against a large muscular chest feeling decidedly sticky. He struggled away from the clinging body to look down at his watch. It was already ten in the morning; not surprising considering their sex marathon had ended only a few short hours ago. They had talked strangely enough more about Dillon’s life than they had about Aziral’s and spent even more of their time exploring each other’s bodies.

What he was doing was totally insane and he knew it. He should be running screaming from the monster lying next to him, and yet instead all he felt was an overpowering lust. He had no doubt Aziral could kill him easily and the thrill of that knowledge put an edge of excitement to his contact with the man. Not only had he never seen a man so strikingly attractive, it wasn’t just his physical looks but an overpowering aura of dark erotic desire.

He had no idea where this was leading, but he wasn’t about to run away from it. He looked down at the sleeping vampire and wondered if sunlight affected him since Dillon really needed to leave the room for a number of reasons, some more pressing than others. He shook the sleeping form and felt a hand bat his own away from the semi-warm body.

"Aziral, I need to leave," Dillon said.

"No," Aziral said groggily reaching up to pull Dillon down next to him.

"I’m not a fucking vampire, my body is completely alive and I don’t see a bathroom around here, besides I do have a life and responsibilities," Dillon said pointedly.

"Your life is with me," Aziral said sleepily.

"What as you fuck toy? I don’t think so," Dillon said.

"Why are you upset, I thought you were a whore," Aziral said.

Dillon felt anger explode through him as he kneed the vampire in the bed surprised when the man only looked at him sleepily, as he pulled Dillon to him as Dillon struggled.

"I’m not really alive remember, the blood is slowly dying in me, that will only work when I’m erect," Aziral said.

"Let go of me you fucking asshole," Dillon snarled pounded against Aziral’s chest.

"No, you’re not going back to Brian," Aziral said closing his eyes.

"Why the hell would I go back to him? Steven already paid me the rest of the modeling money. If I don’t show up the old hag will get worried, I have to find a legit job soon to put her mind at ease," Dillon said stopping his struggling in surprise.

"Ah, the woman in your memories? You care about her very deeply, yes?"Aziral said sitting up in bed.

"I owe her," Dillon said looking away.

"Perhaps, you do not need to work any longer, I will provide for you and your family," Aziral said turning Dillon’s face toward him.

"No, that is just selling myself and she would never approve of it. Her daughter died being a whore," Dillon said shaking his head stubbornly getting out of the bed to retrieve his clothes. "I’m not a whore Aziral, I might do it occasionally to get money that she needs but it isn’t who I am."

"I’m sorry wildcat. I meant it jokingly. Would it help if I were to go with you?" Aziral said looking at Dillon as he ran a hand through his midnight hair.

"You’ve got to be kidding me?" Dillon said.

"If it will put her mind at ease, I will go," Aziral said.

"And tell her what? That you like fuck n ming my brains out and drinking my blood so now you are going to support us?" Dillon said in disgust.

Aziral moved off the bed and walked up to Dillon wrapping his arms around Dillon’s shoulders from behind pulling Dillon close to him. He could feel Aziral’s cool breath against his face as the man nuzzled him his long silken hair spilling around them both.

"I will tell her that you are the most remarkable man that I have ever met, and that it is a pleasure for me to share my life with you. That you are to be my inspiration for my new work, and I need you by my side," Aziral said softly.

"You’re full of shit," Dillon said.

"Am I? I have never been taken with someone and I hardly know you. I don’t want to let you go again. I did the first night I tasted you and have regretted it since them," Aziral said softly.

"You can’t be in love with me," Dillon said softly closing his eyes.

"I don’t know what it is wildcat all I know is that I don’t want you to worry about money or finding work. I have more money than I could spend in several lifetimes," Aziral said softly.

"I can’t stay every moment with you I’d go crazy," Dillon protested.

"Then go to college, it will put that woman’s mind at ease and will give you some freedom," Aziral said kissing his neck.

"What the hell would I study?" Dillon protested.

"Whatever you feel like, whatever interests you, it doesn’t matter as long as you are here at night," Aziral said.

"I like writing stuff, sometimes," Dillon said.

"Then become a writer, take some classes to help you out and make the woman that raised you content," Aziral suggested.

Dillon remained quiet. He had never really thought of going to college, or anything about the future. He wasn’t even sure what classes he would take to become a writer. Did they even have a college degree for that sort of thing? Besides even if he had been praised in school that didn’t mean that he had a talent to do it full time or even the attention span. It seemed unreal to think of him as anything other than a street punk. It would make the old hag happy, but did he really want to relay on someone he hardly even knew?

"Come back to bed, and as soon as the sunsets I will go with you," Aziral said encouragingly.

"Ok, but I still not sure about this, and I still need out of this room," Dillon said.

"Go ahead light can’t get to this room even if you open the door. The bathroom is down the hall and to your left," Aziral said with a yawn.

"Great," Dillon said as left Aziral to curl up back in bed.

"2">

Dillon nervously looked over at Aziral again wondering at the wisdom of his idea all over again. He had called the old hag telling her he would be over around seven and that he was bringing someone over to introduce to her. He hadn’t told her anything about Aziral other than he was someone that had become important in his life. He heard the surprise clearly in her voice and surprisingly happiness as well.

Aziral for his part has awaken just as the sun set and went to get cleaned up. Although he wasn’t wearing a suit it was obvious from his sharply cut clothes that were tailor made to him and the calm serene air about him that he was in a social class far higher than Dillon. He had tied his inky black hair behind him in a long streaming thick tail clearly showing his strong masculine face and clear grey eyes. He had asked Dillon about the woman that had raised him questioning him intently on her likes and things that interested her. Then he had quietly disappeared only to reappear with a small rectangular package that Dillon was sure must be one of his paintings.

As they were driving Aziral pulled the car over, warning Dillon firmly to stay in the car as he swiftly disappeared into a quiet looking store. Ten minutes later he came out empty handed yet Dillon could clearly see a flush to the man’s face. He looked closely at the man who climbed back into the car and reached out to find the man considerable warmer than he had been before the stop.

"You fed," Dillon stated.

"It is what I am wildcat," Aziral said simply.

"Why didn’t..." Dillon started then stopped looking away somewhat embarrassed.

Aziral stopped the car at the red light and turned Dillon’s face to him. Dillon looked at the grey eyes tinted with the faint hint of red, thinking once again he was a fool for feeling a small prick of jealousy that the man had fed on someone other than him.

"I must be very careful, you only have so much to give, and it is hard for me to stop. I don’t want to risk losing you," Aziral said.

Dillon eyes widened as Aziral turned his attention back to the road. They both remained quiet until they finally arrived at the rundown apartment complex. Aziral looked around disapprovingly, even as Dillon winced at the thought of what might happen to Aziral’s expensive car in the neighborhood they were in.

"This isn’t a good idea," Dillon said hesitantly.

"I will arrange for a better place for your family," Aziral sniffed.

"She won’t move, her friends are here and many rely on her to take care of their children while they work," Dillon said.

"But it is dangerous to live here," Aziral said looking over at the group of gang members eyeing his car from across the street.

"Aziral lets just leave, your car..."

"Is irrelevant, let them take it apart if they wish. I have others," Aziral said.

"Are you crazy, it is worth a fortune," Dillon said appalled.

"Money is meaningless," Aziral said arrogantly.

"Yes, to people that have it," Dillon bit back.

"Perhaps, if it will make you happy," Aziral said with a sigh looking over at the group of six.

"Come lets go," Aziral said after a few moments.

"But the car?"

"They will guard it," Aziral said casually walking up to the door of the apartment complex.

"You mean you used your powers?" Dillon asked as they both entered and began climbing the steps.

"Of course it was a simple matter," Aziral said as Dillon shook his head.

Dillon led them to the apartment and opened the door. He barely got inside when three boys attacked him pinning him to the ground laughing demanding where he had been. Dillon laughed at the three tumbling them off of him and wrestling each of them, until Sarah came in calling order to the chaos.

"Dillon, where are your manners," Sarah scolded hitting him lightly on the head.

"Chill out, you old hag," Dillon said pinned under the weight of a twelve year old and the two twin six year old boys.

"Sarah, this is Aziral, he is a famous artist. Aziral this old hag is the woman that raised me," Dillon said.

"Hey what about us?" one of the twin boys with dark brown hair demanded punching Dillon in the stomach.

"Oh yes this is brat number one, two, and three," Dillon said toppling the boys from him as the chaos of wrestling bodies resumed.

"For heaven sakes all of you, Dillon get up off the floor. Brat number one, two, and three homework," Sarah commanded.

"Come onnn,"

"But Dillon just got here."

"We can do it a later,"

"No all three of you, are failing at least one subject. It’s time you started putting the work in. You want to be like Dillon? Well he passed all of his classes with A’s," Sarah said ruthlessly.

"Yeah, but he got way more suspensions than we do," the older boy said flipping his black hair out of his eyes.

"Get all of you, Maria you too," Sarah said turning to look at the fifteen year old girl with long blond hair looking mesmerized at Aziral.

Dillon watched shaking his head as all of them went off to the boys’ room to study protesting the entire time. He couldn’t believe the three of them failing; still at least they didn’t get into as much trouble as he had when he was their age. Lost in thought he was surprised with the old hag’s arms wrapped around him and he felt her kiss his check. He looked at her wondering where that had come from.

"Don’t ever do that again. Nobody knew where you were. I know you said you were modeling but I couldn’t get a hold of you," Sarah scolded.

"Did something happen? Is everything ok?" Dillon asked worriedly.

"No, everything is not ok. Where did you get all that money to pay all of the bills? Dillon you said you weren’t..." Sarah stopped and looked up at Aziral covering her mouth.

"He got it from me," Aziral said smoothly smiling. "He was modeling for my protégée and unfortunately Brian can be a handful. I imagine he took your phone?" Aziral said questioningly.

"Yes," Dillon nodded.

"I knew Dillon was helping you and couldn’t let your bills go unpaid while my protégée monopolized him for a whole week," Aziral said.

"Are you two... together?" Sarah asked frowning a little as she looked between the two.

"Well...I know I should have told you...but...," Dillon stuttered blushing a little.

"It’s ok, Dillon I don’t mind. It is just rather surprising is all," Sarah said has she looked Aziral over carefully.

"Please come in and sit down," Sarah said.

It wasn’t long before the three of them were sitting in the living room, Dillon sitting on a large green couch with Aziral close to him. He could see the old hag staring at him as if trying to read his mind. He had never told her that he had been attracted to men before, never having a reason to bring the subject up especially considering hooking had been how he had realized the fact. Aziral must have come as a double shock to her being male and obviously wealthy.

"I’ve brought this for you madam," Aziral said formally offering her the small wrapped package.

"You didn’t have to do that, and please call me Sarah," Sarah said as she looked startled at Aziral.

"It is the least I could do. You are very important to Dillon and perhaps this will help you to know a small bit more about me," Aziral said.

"Hey don’t say things like that," Dillon said rather embarrassed as Sarah unwrapped the small package to reveal a bright cheerful fairy sitting on a flower.

Dillon looked at the piece stunned by the art that was a polar opposite of the other works he had seen by Aziral. The bright vivid colors and serene smiling face so very different to the heart wrenching fierce darker pieces of art he had seen.

"I painted that a very long time ago, in a style that has long been forgotten as mine so I’m afraid it will not be worth much but Dillon told me of your love of fairy tales," Aziral said with a smile and Sarah looked at the piece as a beautiful smile appeared on her lined worn face.

"This is truly beautiful, Aziral, I won’t ever sell it," Sarah said softly.

She gently put the piece down on the coffee table to look at the two of them with a relieved smile. It was as if the piece of artwork had eased any doubts she had about Aziral. There was something about Aziral’s work that even Dillon couldn’t deny, the ability to provoke deep feelings.

"So how did the two of you meet?" Sarah asked.

"My protégée found him for modeling, and we have gotten to know each other," Aziral said.

"Then you haven’t been together very long," Sarah said looking at Dillon who had remained quiet not knowing how to explain the bizarre relationship between them.

"Long enough to know that Dillon has become an inspiration to me. I think I have finally convinced him to quit working, and go to college," Aziral said.

"Quit working you mean you are going to take the scholarship?" Sarah asked joy lighting her face.

"If I did that how would you support yourself?" Dillon protested.

"I’ll get by I always have Dillon, I can always get another job, and stop babysitting" Sarah said shaking her head.

"You love babysitting," Dillon retorted.

"Enough both of you. Now I know where you get you argumentative side from," Aziral cut in exasperated.

"I will take care of all of you," Aziral said firmly.

"It is nice of you to offer but you have only just meet Dillon..." Sarah started.

"Time makes little difference Sarah. I assure you there is nothing that would make me leave him. I’ve assured him of it, if needed I will sign over enough money to both of you to make sure Dillon can finish college and support you as well, if you doubt my intentions towards him," Aziral said looking at the worried woman calmly.

"I’m not worried about the money; it is just...so sudden. How can you be so certain? I don’t want to see him hurt, and this is the first time he has ever mentioned someone special in his life ever," Sarah said.

"I am certain," Aziral said softly.

"It is Dillon’s decision to make, I’ve always let him do what he wants," Sarah said looking at Dillon.

"I’m going to stay with Aziral, and see what happens," Dillon said with a smile trying to reassure the woman and himself both as he felt Aziral’s hot hand slide into his own.