Page 39 of Caller of Crows

"No one important," Sven muttered. It was difficult to be eloquent when half his blood had already left his brain…

And then Altair's hand slipped inside his pants, cupped his cock, and squeezed, and a moan escaped Sven's lips.

"Who are you talking to?" the vampire repeated.

"A neighbor," Sven admitted, gasping as Altair stroked him. Fuck, that felt so good. So much better than when he touched himself to thefantasyof Altair.

Shit, he was not going to get through many more messages if Altair kept that up.

"Tell me more about this neighbor," Altair said, though he clearly only enjoyed watching Sven struggle to keep his voice measured while Altair teased the head of his cock.

"He's worried," Sven made himself say, "because I was supposed to be back from my trip yesterday."

Altair's hand paused. "Your trip?"

"I told everyone I was looking for some experimental medication."

Altair resumed his leisurely caresses. "I see."

Sven tried not to squirm. This was torture. Sweet, delicious torture.

"Don't come," the vampire whispered, his lips brushing against Sven's ear.

Sven shuddered at the sensation. "What if I do?" he challenged.

"You wouldn't get what you really want."

Sven huffed, both in frustration and amusement. "What do you think I really want?"

Altair responded not with words, but with a motion of his hips, pressing his own erection against Sven's ass.

Sven bit his lip as his body reacted. Fuck, he wanted the vampire inside him, and he hated that Altair knew that. Like the arrogant asshole needed any more reason to be smug.

"You got a response," the vampire pointed out as the phone buzzed in Sven's hand.

He glanced down at it, grateful for the distraction. It was from Cale.

"There's no change," the message read. "But she liked the soup I brought her yesterday. A good appetite is a good sign, right?"

"Yes," Sven agreed, typing his reply. "Definitely. Thanks so much for watching her. You're a lifesaver."

"Good response?" Altair murmured, squeezing Sven's balls.

"Yes," Sven managed, barely biting back another moan.

Cale sent another text. "When are you coming home?"

Sven knew he should probably reply to that one, but he didn't know what to say—and Altair wasn't making it easier for him to think. The vampire's fingers were playing with the sensitive spot between his cock and his balls, driving him crazy.

Sven couldn't type. Couldn't even think.

"Answer him," Altair ordered, stilling his hand.

Sven groaned, looking at his phone again.

"Soon," he typed.

It was funny, really. He'd wanted his phone back so much, and now he wanted nothing more than to toss it aside so he could focus on getting what he needed from his vampire.