| Title: Captivated Authors: Jo & Brenda Series: Claimed, part 2 Pairings: Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom/Harry Sinclair/David Wenham; (Sean Bean/Dominic Monaghan; Viggo Mortensen/??) Rating: NC17 Summary: Same vampires. Same pets. Same story. Carry on. Disclaimer: As far as we know, vampires *still* don't exist. Heh. Author's Notes: Sequel to "Cherished". Much thanks to everyone who's been writing in. Glad we've kept you entertained.
Orlando stopped in mid-step, looked at Elijah over his shoulder. "Do what?" "That." Elijah waved his hands in a vague gesture. "Dance." "I'm bored." Orlando turned, confusion in his eyes, unaware of the alluring image he presented: black jeans riding low on his hips, chest bare, tanned skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, damp curls clinging to his forehead, face flushed from his exertions. "Then at least keep your damn clothes on," Elijah grumbled. He shifted in his seat, looked away. "And stop touching yourself. You'd think you could wait a few fucking hours until you're home with Karl to do that." "Didn't mean to disturb you," Orlando said, voice full of hurt. He lifted his shirt from the seat, pulled it over his head, looked around the interior of the plane. "You didn't." Elijah sighed. "And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. But do you have to be so you right now?" So him? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Orlando frowned, watched Elijah for a moment, noted the way Elijah shifted and refused to meet his gaze, took in Elijah's flushed face and slightly unsteady breathing. Oh... His eyes widened, and Orlando had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "It turned you on. Watching me dance turned you on!" "Did not." "Did, too!" Orlando bounced with glee. His dancing had aroused Elijah, had aroused the straightest man he'd ever met. "Admit it! My dancing turned you on!" "Okay, fine, it turned me on." Elijah glared at Orlando, frowning when Orlando laughed. "Jesus, asshole. I'm a man, I can appreciate beauty when I see it." "But you're straight!" Orlando collapsed into a chair, holding his side as he laughed until tears came to his eyes. "And I turned you on!" "It wasn't you." Elijah ran a hand through spiky hair, frowned again. "A girl dancing like that would have turned me on, too. It was the whole thing -- you're so damn beautiful, so comfortable with yourself and your effect on people." "Not that comfortable with it," Orlando mumbled as he looked out the window. "You used to be," Elijah said quietly. "Before Karl claimed you. You were strong and confident and a little aggressive. Now...now you're not. What happened?" Orlando continued to stare out his window. What had happened? He wished he knew. God, how he wished he knew. Since meeting Karl, he'd been overwhelmed, out of control, reacting instead of acting, accepting whatever happened, content just to please Karl. Fuck. Viggo was right -- he was passive and submissive and all that. What was the saying, tiger in the boardroom, whore in the bedroom? That was him. A real fucking doormat on a personal level. But that wasn't him. Was it? His mind flashed back to the night he had been late getting home, the night he had seduced Karl with his mouth and hands. He'd been the aggressor then. He'd been the one to initiate, to control, to set the pace. And Karl had fucking loved it. Dom had been right. Every time Orlando asked a question, took control, showed that fearlessness, Karl responded with equal fervor, equal ease. And he wondered...was that what Karl wanted? "What are you thinking about?" Orlando spared Elijah a brief glance before returning to his contemplation of the clouds. "Doormats." "You're weird." "Yeah." More images tumbled through his head. The party, the hallway, the fight with Karl -- the way Karl had seemed almost pleased when Orlando fought back. Karl had only truly gotten angry when he realized Orlando was serious about leaving. He remembered what Karl'd said then -- mine. Yes, he was Karl's. He was the one Karl claimed, the one Karl wanted. But that didn't necessarily mean that Karl wanted a doormat. But Viggo had said he was a doormat. Wait. No. Viggo had said he was a doormat compared to Harry. Orlando had the feeling that Attila the Hun would have been a doormat compared to Harry. And Viggo had also said that Orlando had spirit, fire. But that couldn't be right. Doormats didn't have spirit. Did they? No, they didn't. But Viggo said he, Orlando, had spirit. So...did that mean he wasn't a doormat? Christ, it made his head hurt just thinking about it. And then there was Harry. Motherfucker scared Orlando more than anything else ever had. But still, there was that quiet, unshakeable feeling that Harry would never -- could never -- hurt him. Harry had threatened, had implied, had terrified, until Orlando was ready to collapse from fright. But not once had Harry hurt him. And he could have. It would have been so easy for Harry to hurt him badly. "Still thinking about doormats?" Orlando didn't bother to look away from the window again. "Yeah." "You need to get out more." "Yeah." Orlando's mind whirled, raced, tried to sort out every thought that was flashing through his head. Nothing made sense. Well, not much of it. The more he thought, the more he became aware that certain things didn't fit. And each of those things was something that Viggo had told him. His eyes narrowed. Was it possible that Viggo had lied to him? "That fucker," Orlando muttered as he stood, startling Elijah with the abrupt movement. "Do you still have that list of phone numbers Karl gave me?" "Yeah, they're in my briefcase." Elijah watched as Orlando stalked to the desk at the back of the cabin. "I need them." Elijah hesitated, and Orlando frowned. "Now!" Barely a minute later, Orlando had the paper in his hand. Reading through it quickly, he picked up the phone and punched in a number, listened to it ring, a grim smile on his face. Then a muted click, and a quiet, faintly accented voice answered. "Hello?" "Viggo." Orlando leaned against the desk, watched Elijah's eyes widen. "Young Orlando..." The low, smooth voice sounded amused. Orlando had a feeling that was typical. "How nice of you to call. How was Tokyo? Get everything straightened out to Karl's satisfaction?" "Tokyo was fine, and everything's settled." Orlando drummed his fingers on the desk behind him, mind still racing. "I take it this is not a social call, however. I don't think we have that kind of relationship quite yet." Slender fingers continued to drum on the desk. "Been thinking about what you said." A soft chuckle drifted through the phone line. "Have you now?" "Yeah, I have." Orlando pushed his body up on the desk, shoved his free hand beneath his thigh. "And I think you lied to me about some things." "And why would you say that?" "You let me think that Karl wanted me all meek and submissive, let me think I'm Harry's complete opposite," Orlando said, struggling to hold on to his temper. Elijah watched him with wide eyes. "I only agreed with what you'd decided was the truth, nothing more." Fine, Viggo had a point there. Much as Orlando hated to admit it, he'd managed to convince himself of certain things. But that didn't excuse Viggo's actions. "You deliberately misled me. That's lying." Enough bullshit. Orlando wanted answers. "Nothing that you told me is true, is it? If I'm so damn different from Harry, why the hell did Karl claim me? Answer that. Why would Karl suddenly want someone so completely different from the man who's been his lover for 800 goddamn years?" "I think you know the answer to that already, child." "Karl didn't claim me because he wanted someone who was Harry's opposite, did he?" Orlando ignored Elijah's stunned look. "He claimed me because I'm like Harry, and you let me think I was a fucking doormat." Silence hissed through the line for a few seconds. Then Viggo's amused voice was back in his ear. "Tell me something, Orlando. Do you think kittens have claws?" Kittens? What the hell was Viggo.... No. Just...no. Fucker was not calling him a kitten. Orlando exploded. "You goddamn, arrogant, manipulative, lying son of a bitch!" "I guess that answers that question, as well," Viggo answered on a chuckle. "And compliments will get you anything you want." "Fuck you!" Orlando was beyond pissed. There was a soft thump from his right, and he assumed it was Elijah either passing out or dropping into a seat. "Stop playing games with me. You lied, and now you fucking owe me." "And what would I owe you?" Orlando took a deep breath, counted to ten. Fuck it. Didn't work anyway. "You knew I was going to go to Harry's thinking I was nothing more than Karl's submissive little bitch." "And I so would have enjoyed hearing about Harry mopping the floor with you." Fucker still sounded like he was laughing. "I'm sure you would have," Orlando muttered, kicking his feet against the desk. "So you owe me for that." "Fine." He'd agreed too quickly. Something was up. Orlando tried to think of what trick the vampire had up his sleeve...had to laugh at himself for trying to outsmart an Elder. "What do you want?" "I need to talk to Harry and I need to do it alone." Orlando paused, thinking. Then he took a deep breath. He'd already decided to do this, but he was pretty sure that what he was about to say was going to either make Viggo laugh or make Karl pissed as hell when he found out. "You're going to help me by keeping Karl busy long enough for me to talk to Harry." "Alright." Again with the quick agreement. "I'll do it. Provided you tell me precisely why you want to talk to Harry." "Because I want some straight answers, and he's going to give them to me." "Is that the only reason?" "What? Of course it's the only reason. Why else would I want to talk to him?" Warning bells clamored in Orlando's head. Viggo was being too agreeable, and the fucker sounded amused again. "Child, do you ever use that brain of yours?" Viggo asked. "Think. Why would you want Harry alone?" "Of course I use my brain," Orlando snapped. "I want Harry alone because..." He stopped, remembered. Just like that he was back in the hallway, trapped between Harry's body and the wall. A firm, muscled body pressed tight against him, seared him through the layers of fabric separating them. Amaretto eyes, full of sin and darkness, burned into his, pierced his soul, while rough hands caressed his throat and warm lips touched his ear with seductive whispers. It had been terrifying. And arousing. Very fucking arousing. Just like the fact that Harry had been inside Karl's head, too, during Orlando' little strip tease. "Son of a bitch," Orlando breathed, eyes wide. Everything fell into place. "I knew you'd get there eventually." Viggo laughed again, softly, darkly. "Now I want you to think about Karl and Harry." Orlando thought for a moment. "They're a lot alike. What about...wait. You don't mean..?" "Follow it to its conclusion, child." "If I react identically to them because they're alike, then...." Orlando chewed on his thumb, chased that thought around for a few minutes. "Then it stands to reason that they'd react identically to me for the same reason. Right?" "Get something to write on," Viggo said, quietly. Orlando waved his hand at Elijah, made a writing gesture in the air. Then, pen in hand, he flipped over the list of phone numbers. "Go ahead." A brief pause. "Orlando? When you're alone with Harry, don't use his weapons. Use yours." Orlando didn't even have to think to know what Viggo meant. "Smiles and kisses." "Much better. Now here's how to get to Harry's from Karl's." + + + Karl barely waited until they were in the house to pounce. "Next time we're calling Lij a fucking cab," he growled, hands ripping Orlando's shirt off in a swift motion. "Good idea." Orlando unbuttoned Karl's shirt with needing, shaking fingers, slid the silk off of him, sighed. "I've missed you." Karl raced his hands along Orlando's slim body, reveled in the feel of firm flesh finally under him again. He unzipped Orlando's jeans, shoving the material over slender hips. "Show me." He dipped his head, groaned when Orlando opened his mouth, slid his tongue to tangle with Karl's. Need simply swamped him until there was nothing else. Orlando tugged on the silky strands of Karl's hair, shook his head. His eyes had a gleam to them that had Karl so hot he thought he might burst. This wasn't the shy, unsure creature from the airport...this was the seducer again, come to claim. About goddamn time. //Show me, Karl. Show me what Harry did to you after my strip tease.// Karl was on his knees almost instantly, reacting to the command, the love, in Orlando's mental voice. His mouth closed over Orlando's cock, mouth teasing, tempting with slow swipes, with hollowed cheeks and gentle, rocking motions. "Christ." Orlando moaned, rocked his hips, thrusting into Karl's mouth. Karl redoubled his efforts, brought Orlando's hand to the back of his head, moaned himself when Orlando took the hint and fucked Karl's mouth, hips pistoning, cock choking, movements blurring. If Orlando wanted the full Harry experience, Karl was damn well going to give it to him. Orlando's knees buckled when he came, breath huffing out of his body as Karl sucked him dry, slid back up and gave his pet a long, leisurely kiss, holding him up while he continued to shudder. "Curiosity satisfied?" "Mmm," Orlando mumbled, dropping his head on Karl's shoulder, snuggling his body close to Karl's. "If Harry's like that in bed, no wonder you're so keen on him." Karl laughed, swung Orlando up in his arms, started striding toward the stairs and their bedroom. "Yeah, well, the puppy has his talents. I take it the thought of him doing naughty things to me while you were in my head driving me crazy turned you on a bit?" "Yeah, it did." The admission was a soft one. "It was kinda like the three of us were...dunno. But yeah, I was turned on." One step closer, Karl thought. If Orlando was turned on and curious, then things were progressing quite well. Karl lowered Orlando to the bed, quickly stripped off his slacks, and slid over Orlando on the silk sheets, brought their bodies into full contact with each other. "Want to know what he did to me later that night?" The softly spoken words sent liquid heat coursing through Orlando's veins. He had a vague thought that he really should be more upset by the thought of Karl fucking someone else while he was away, but it was quickly buried under the more important feelings of greed and lust. //Show me everything.// //Your wish. Roll over.// Oh God...Harry had...to Karl...oh God. Orlando rolled over, set himself on hands and knees, shivered at the fingers tracing lightly over his spine and shuddered when Karl placed a tender kiss on each vertebrae. He whimpered with need as the scent of vanilla filled the room and felt Karl's slick fingers press inside him. "Impatient?" The low voice whispered around him, made him burn. Orlando wiggled his hips, pushed the fingers in further. "Please," he moaned, gripping the rails of the headboard. Karl continued torturing him with gentle strokes that had him writhing, had him aching. "I burn for you." "Do you now?" Karl said, amused. But he removed his fingers, replacing them with his cock, easing past the tight ring of muscle. He sheathed himself fully inside Orlando's welcoming body with one deep thrust. "Yes." Christ, it felt so good. Every time was more intense than the last. Orlando rocked back as Karl began to move inside him, soft moans and whimpers slipping from his throat as he was filled to completion over and over. Karl's hand closed around his cock, fisting him as soft lips touched the back of his neck and his shoulders, and the pleasure was just so goddamn exquisite. "So tight," Karl breathed against silky curls. "So beautiful like this, with my cock buried deep in your ass. I've missed this." "Me too." //Open your mind for me.// Orlando instantly obeyed, was rocked into sublime dual sensations as Karl filled his thoughts. Now he was fucking and being fucked, now he was inside tight flesh and moving against himself, inside himself. He was Karl, all pistoning hips and blur of movement; he was Orlando, arching his back to welcoming thrusts and heat inside him, invading him. And tilted his neck, knowing what was coming next, as he rocketed toward an explosive orgasm. //That's it, come for me.// That soft mental whisper was enough to send Orlando plummeting over the edge with a harsh groan. As the first burst of semen spurted from his cock, Karl struck with a guttural growl, razor sharp fangs piercing the rich vein of his neck. Orlando's senses went into overload, and he screamed in ecstasy as Karl fed, his body convulsing with the mind-numbing pleasure ripping through him. Karl eased from Orlando's throat, tongue sweeping across the tiny punctures and sealing them. And Orlando felt the vampire stiffen as he emptied himself deep inside Orlando's body, caught in the grips of his own orgasm. They collapsed on the bed, arms and legs tangled together, gasping for air. Long minutes passed as they allowed heart rates to slow and breathing to regulate. Orlando curled into Karl's body, breath still a bit short, placed nuzzling kisses on Karl's neck. "God." "You said to show you everything." Karl's low voice wrapped him in cheerful satisfaction. "You...um..." Orlando started tracing patterns through the hairs on Karl's lower abdomen, luxuriating in having Karl's body this close to him again. "You let him..." he couldn't get the rest out. "Fuck me?" "Yeah." Orlando didn't know why he was so embarrassed. But something about the normally very in control Karl willingly opening himself up to someone was just...exciting. Erotic. "Of course I do." Karl sounded a bit puzzled. He pulled Orlando on top of him, kissed the tip of his nose. "Partners, Orli. Equals." "So, he just...um...?" "Would you like another demonstration?" Karl smiled the question against Orlando's mouth, teeth nipping his lip. Now? Now Orlando was a boneless heap. "Not now," he sighed, licking Karl's canines. He'd really missed that. "Later, maybe." "Whenever you're ready," Karl promised, shifting so he could draw the tangled sheets over them. "We have time." "Okay." Orlando was asleep before the word even fully escaped his lips. |