A.E. Fox

@aefox-author.bsky.social

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Author of The High Blood series. CEO of hurting their own characters. Queer Romance enthusiast. The Office fanatic. Dog mom & human mom. Probably playing Stardew Valley. https://linktr.ee/aefox90

Her knees were bruised black from kneeling, wrists rubbed raw by the ropes still binding them, body so starved it was hardly healing. Her vision came and went, a revolving dance of fading whites and mottled grays, her hearing patchy and ringing. She knew she was freezing too, naked as she was, though her senses had dulled so much that she couldn't tell whether or not she was still shivering.
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All he could do was continue to suckle, unable to keep the rhythm while he fed. He let Sim take over, let him move them together in any way he wanted. [blah blah blah they cum]
The noise Sim made as he slipped into the water, though, was criminal and Spencer feared he would happily be a prison wife. "Where your weed?"
"And I'd never expected you to grow so tall." Cronin retorted on a shallow breath. Dipping his head, he pressed a kiss on the soft, parted lips of his enemy. "You don't taste like I remember." He murmured, aiming his gun at the heart he'd once desired above all else. The shot sounded around the hall, drowning out the shattering of the glass that had fallen at his feet. Arlo was knocked from the dais and landed on his back, unsure if his bullet had hit it's mark. He fired again, this time at the red-haired interloper who had shoved him. The servant didn't flinch. Instead he stood staring over him with ccrie pit-like eyes. Who are you that would dare attack my master?" The creature spoke with a long, thin-lipped mouth, straw showing from the bullet wound in his gut where blood should have been. "The penalty for treason is death."
Darkness has found its way into your life, He whispered solemnly, prying her fingers from his shirt. 'But show no fear. The sun will shine again. Then, with a tender tousle of her hair, he disappeared into the trees, but never from her memory.
Tied to both the Celtic gods Airmid and Arwen, Rusty has lived a very long life. Banished from Ireland, he now works for the Ranvirs. As a Lenaan Sidhe vampire hybrid, he is selfish, tricky and sometimes downright mean. His only soft spot is for his adopted son Lions, who he would and could destroy everything else for.
He was haliway up the stairs when his name was called. "Sim!" Fuck. Swinging his gaze to the open water, he wondered if he could clear the rest of the ship if he jumped. Probably not. Pelagio's fingers grabbed at his, as if the man saw his thoughts. Maybe he had. It wouldn't have been the first time. He pulled his hand away and tucked both of them beneath his arms. "Mr. Calvo. "Ihat's with the mister? Come on, now." The man was attractive, Sim's height and always smelled nice, but he didn't take no for an answer. "Weren't you having fun downstairs?" Unfortunately, "no* was usually Sim's favorite response. "1 don't gamble. 1 told you that." "T'll give you some money to play with." "1 don't want your money.' "Oh, don't you?" The man's plush lips turned upward in a snarl. "That's not what you were saying a few months ago. What? You're too good for me now that you've been sniffing Raziel's ass?" Pelagio leaned in closer. "1 gave you anything you asked for, Dwyer. The least you could do is show a little gratitutde." "For a price. You gave me what 1 wanted, for a price," he breathed, "And 1 carned every cent." "So, earn a little more, 11m² There's a supply room in the galley."
The flat was a two-bedroom, and to no surprise, the first one he came to was hollow, lacking even a bed. There was a bathroom in between, which held the first signs of life he'd come across. A towel on the floor, rag in the sink, various hy giene products cluttering the meager counter space and a box of hair color in the bin by the toilet. Even the man's hair was fakc. Sim huffed and helped himself to the next bedroom. It smelled of Spencer inside, like grave dirt and and salted caramel. There were clothes scattered on the floor, all of which stank of sweat and the lingering bitterness of blood. The bed was unmade, but one would hardly know it, as it had only a thin cotton sheet and a single pillow to dress it. Vastly different from Sim's own den, which was so stuffed full of comfort items that his nieces often got lost in them, mostly for their own entertainment. He picked up a few of the man's shirts and gave them an inquisitive sniff before noting the still packed suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed. It took only a pull of a dresser drawer to figure out that Spencer had not even bothered to unpack. It should have made him suspicious, but the only fecling behind his sternum noW as pity He and Spencer were both strays.