The Dragon King

"What was dead should have stayed dead..." Bjorn Stormborn 5420 years old - vampire/dragon hybridCouncilman of England

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

For a moment, Aneirin was glad of Bjorn's fingers between his throat and the threat of the icicle, no matter how much his spine protested at the painful arch. His entire body was shuddering from the cold, the effects of the ice in his system. Aneirin hadn't felt cold like this in a thousand years, not since he'd been human. He made a faint whining sound, his body breaking his careful calm.

"Fuck me. Dammit. Fuck me." He cursed, half at Bjorn and half at himself. His words were quiet, ashamed of his own weakness, and struggling with the effects of Bjorn's magic. He squirmed back against Bjorn's invading fingers, his own teeth clamping down on his lip, furious at the idea that Bjorn had bested him.

[bjorn-stormborn]

The darkest of chuckles sounded in the ahool's throat as the grip on Anerin's neck intensified, the ice pinning the Welshman's hands to the cabinet shattering as the smaller male was lifted bodily.

The bulky hybrid slammed Aneirin face down into the large oaken desk, pinning the younger vampire there while stripping his own shirt from his massive form and undoing the fly of his pants.

"Ever is it the way with you Welsh...all bark about freedom until shown what true power is..." Bjorn snarled, a hand pinning Aneirin to the desk by the back of his neck, the other taking his hard, thick length in hand and pressing it to the vampire's tight entrance. One powerful thrust burying his cock to the root in Aneirin's body.

[alasdairxbishop]

Watching the.. incredibly large.. hybrid step closer to him, Alasdair didn't want to look particularly bothered, so he stayed seated, glancing up at the councilman. "I'll give you a hint, it's not 'little morsel'," Dair muttered before sighing, sitting up properly as he watched the ahool carefully. Was it a good idea to piss off someone that big when Alasdair himself was, like, pretty much half the size? Probably not, but he hadn't quite learnt to rein the attitude in yet.

"Another hint, you could look me up in the directory to find out my name," Dair suggested with a smirk. "What is it you're looking for, big guy? If it's an easy meal and a willing hole to fuck, you've got the wrong slave," the nephilim continued, getting to his feet and moving to step around the councilman. "Plus, I really gotta go shower."

[bjorn-stormborn]

The only visible movement the councilman made was a slight lifting of his left eyebrow, and for a split second, Bjorn allowed the slave to think that he might actually be allowed to walk away...

A hope that lasted only a moment, before the ahool's hand caught the nephilim by the throat, lifted him off his feet, and brought him back round in front of the bulky male.

"You had the chance for a civilised interaction..." the ahool growled dangerously, the temperature around the pair dropping as icy blue magic flared in the back of his retinas "...sadly for you, the lack of filter between your brain and your mouth has removed that possibility..."

Bjorn's grip on the younger male's neck shifted, allowing his other hand to come up and undo the nephilim's collar, letting it clatter to the floor, before launching Alasdair into the wall with enough force to knock the wind from him.

[rhysdasior]

closed starter for @bjorn-stormborn

Rhys was met with the ever-delightful task of working through the paperwork and bookings that had built-up during his tenure spent in Mayfair now that he was back at the castle full-time and though the former took barely any time at all to organise, sign, file and prepare for sending off later in the working week, the latter had Rhys dragging his heels before he’d even begun to tackle the seemingly endless list of prospective consultations. With a brief glimpse spared to his pocket watch, Rhys decided now seemed as good a time as any for a smoke break and with some effort, pushed himself up and away from his desk, patting down his trouser pockets until he felt the familiar shape of his cigarette case and forcing himself to exit the office. The route to the greenhouses was simple enough for Rhys to head in their direction on autopilot at this point. As he wandered, he plucked his cigarette case from his pocket and plucked one out in advance, sliding it behind his ear as he slipped the case back for safekeeping – a little fresh air and a reasonably short burst of nicotine would blow the worst of the dust off of his professionalism, no doubt. 

Rounding the corner to head down, Rhys paused mid-stride to study the gleaming plaque that caught his eye and swallowed a petulant groan at the name engraved on it. Bjorn Stormborn was a name Rhys recognised for a multitude of reasons: firstly, it was at the top of his list for upcoming consultations and secondly, his parents and grandmother had all had their fair share of dealings with the ahool over the centuries and though his grandmother had been naturally charming and easygoing, even Corinne had returned from impromptu meetings with Bjorn mildly exasperated from the sheer force of the man’s presence alone. He’d caught glimpses of the ahool whilst hidden behind his parents at a number of social events over the years as an invitation was always extended by the Dasiors – maintaining a good working relationship with the country's councilman was paramount for London's leading coven. Fortunately, Rhys had always forbidden from making conversation with England’s councilman on account of not knowing how to hold his tongue, according to his father; to this day, Rhys still struggled to see that as a downside.

However, there was no use in dragging out the inevitable and though it likely would have been a much wiser decision to have a smoke first, Rhys shrugged off the last of his hope for a quieter day and politely knocked twice against the suite’s doors. “Councilman Stormborn? It’s Rhys Dasior, Head of Magic Consultants – I hope I’m not interrupting anything – have you got a moment?”

[bjorn-stormborn]

As if on cue, the large oaken doors to the chambers opened, and a slave staggered out, pale and bleeding, a hand clutched over his neck as he stumbled, a guard quickly appearing to whisk him back to the undercroft.

By their own accord, the doors opened wider, revealing the sparse entrance hall of white marble and it's four collossal statues.

Standing between them stood the councilman, fresh blood coating his lips and dripping from his chin. The white shirt he was wearing was stained crimson, and stuck to the muscular chest as he moved.

"Mr Dasior..." the voice seemed to resonate loudly in the hallway "...you are not interupting, I had just finished lunch, as it so happens..."

The ahool's head cocked to one side in a curious, lizard-like manner. "You have come about the artifact I mentioned in my letter, yes?"

[taliesin-mistry-deactivated2025]

For a moment, Taliesin was overcome with the sense that he'd just made a truly terrible mistake. Before he had the time to do something about it, his shirt was in tatters in Bjorn's hand. He took an involuntary step backward, hunching his shoulders to make himself smaller as he did so. He'd literally asked for this, and still his instincts were in conflict, part of him desperate for Bjorn's attention and another part wanting to crawl under the table and hide.

Kissing Bjorn was rather unexpected. He hadn't expected Bjorn to be the kind of man that bothered with that sort of thing. Taliesin's hands didn't dare to grasp at Bjorn, to touch him in return, not yet, not until he'd been invited. He felt like some kind of mouse, some scurrying creature, under Bjorn's gaze. He opened his mouth, but, dumbfounded went no further.

The strangeness of Bjorn's behaviour only intensified, from Taliesin's perspective. For a long moment, he just looked at the blood Bjorn was offering up to him, confused. He'd never once been offered blood before, didn't really know what he was supposed to. Still, his body urged him into action, frightened to stay frozen under Bjorn's gaze. He nodded his head cautiously and stepped closer, tentatively pressing his lips against the wound. The taste of dragon blood was unfamiliar - not the same flavour as he expected when putting a paper cut of his own into his mouth to stem the bleeding. It had a deeper, more alien taste. He didn't dare take very much, had no real means of getting to it without fangs, just licked gently as what trickle out of the cut , before looking back at Bjorn sheepishly.

[bjorn-stormborn]

"Good boy..." Bjorn growled softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against the human's lips "...but you needn't be so frugal with what you take..." The ahool brought Taliesan's hand to his mouth, a fang extending and pricking, as gently as possible, the tip of the human's index finger. "Look..." he growled, gesturing to the wound and how quickly it healed "...this is the gift my blood brings you..."

The ancient beast pressed Taliesin's hand to his own chest. "And you may touch me freely, for this evening is for both of us to enjoy..."

Bjorn kissed the human again, more deeply this time, letting their tongues mingle together as powerful arms held Taliesin close.

When the kiss finally broke, Bjorn's lips trailed along the human's jawline, a light tug of the man's hair exposing Taliesin's neck. "such a good boy..." he growled, tongue tracing down the man's jugular, kissing and nipping at the human's pulse-point before sinking his fangs slowly and sensually into Taliesin's flesh with a growl.

[alasdairxbishop]

Having had a mixture of experiences in his very short time at Krovs so far, Dair was trying to learn to keep his mouth shut. It was hard to bite his tongue when he got wound up, his temper threatening to bubble over at any point, but he was getting a little better at it. Still, he did not appreciate people staring or even just looking at him, and he was constantly on edge. He hadn't truly relaxed in a little while, his insides feeling like they were wound tighter than a spring.

Alasdair's green eyes scanned the room as he heard a little commotion, the other slaves quickly trying to find somewhere to be as inconspicuous as possible with the arrival of a particularly large councilman in the undercroft, if the nearby whispers of other slaves were to be believed. The nephilim hadn't met many of the council yet, but as far as he was concerned, every council member was a dick. Unlike the others around him, Alasdair didn't look away when he caught the man's gaze, his brows furrowing a little as he watched him approach.

"Whatever you're going to say.. no. Fuck no, in fact."

@bjorn-stormborn

[bjorn-stormborn]

Pathetic. Mediocre. Disinteresting.

Having come down to the undercroft to scratch a very particular itch, the ahool was unimpressed with the available offering. While he did understand why his reputation might send many of the slaves scurrying like rats, his current mood required something with more backbone.

Then he locked gaze with a new face, and the retort made the darkest of smiles appear on the ancient beast's face. After all, it was not in his nature to ignore worthy prey.

"Bold of food to attempt to give orders..." he growled, taking a few more steps forward "...do you have a name, little morsel?"

[thecharleswinchester]

It wasn't very often that Charlie had sex with another dragon, particularly one as old as Bjorn was. He wasn't sure if all of them were this rough when they were fucking or if it was just the councilman, but he wasn't complaining either way. His hips rocked against the other man's, desperate for whatever friction he could get and Charlie hissed sharply as Bjorn pulled his fangs from his shoulder. The younger dragon could feel blood seeping from the wound, something Bjorn saw to a second later.

"I like it when others take charge." The sudden loss of contact almost had him whine, but Charlie bit it back as he watched Bjorn push his pants down. Desire and heat coiled low in his belly and the younger dragon was quick to move toward the older vampire. It was probably going to hurt like hell, but he didn't care, not in the middle of heat week. He straddled the older man and reached back to steady the other man's cock, stroking him a few times before Charlie slowly started to lower himself onto the man's length. A deep moan sounded from him as he carefully took the ahool inch by inch, leaning back in to kiss him desperately.

[bjorn-stormborn]

It took everything, absolutely everything, for the ahool not to start fucking hard into the younger dragon the second he was inside that impossibly tight, warm entrance. A loud growl of pleasure resounded from Bjorn's lips as Charlie took his length, inch by inch.

The kiss was returned with equal measure, their tongues dancing together as Bjorn's hands tracked up the young dragon's flanks.

"Now ride me..." The elder growled, claws dragging down Charlie's back "...let that fire beast out, little one...fuck yourself on my prick, show me how badly you need my seed inside your gut..."

Bjorn's lips descended onto the young dragon's chest, a series of heated kisses pressed against the skin before his fangs sank deep into the muscle of Charlie's left pectoral.

[jacen-dune]

“What’s worse than being burned?” Jacen asked in curiosity. Was he the kind of a master who enjoyed inflicting pain? He had done a lot in the past to avoid vampires like him but it seemed he was caught in a trap this time. With the collar finally off, all sorts of crazy stuff went on his head and for a moment he felt all his merman powers coming back and the water from the vase being him floated. He could attack him, he knew but then a guard would only punish him but.. he went against it, the floating water went back to the vase.

The sudden pull almost made him trip. “No I haven’t.” With the variety of creatures in Krovs, he can barely keep up to what species were. “What does it entails? What will happen if an ahool bred me.”

Even with the years of experience, certain things still made him scared. The tingling shiver on his spine seeing that smile his confidence almost shattered. “I’m good with my mouth. I can do many things with it to make you feel good.”

[bjorn-stormborn]

Bjorn's hand came up, stroking the side of the merman's face. "Ahools are the worst of both vampires and dragons. To be bred by one is to be fucked without mercy, to be fed on until you are too weak to stand...but, fortunately for you...I have something slightly more tender in mind..."

The ancient creature's hand slipped around the back of Jacen's head, pulling him into a slow, lingering kiss. When it finally broke, Bjorn scooped the other male up in his arms and moved to the nearest playroom, kicking the door shut behind him and then setting the merman down by the expansive bed.

Removing his own shirt, Bjorn reached over and pulled Jacen's t-shirt over his head, before pulling him for a passionate kiss. "Show me how talented that mouth of yours is..." he growled softly.

[aneirin-ap-mouric]

In spite of everything, his nudity, the way Bjorn had him fixed in place, his obvious arousal, Aneirin still had his pride. If Bjorn wanted to monologue like an obnoxious Shakespearean villain, then Aneirin would let him. He swallowed, feeling the scrape of the icicle over his throat, a hissing noise like a running hose pushing itself through his clenched teeth as Bjorn stroked along his spine. The sensation was still too new, too alien, to allow Aneirin to fully control himself.

He continued in the Welsh, unwilling to speak another word of Bjorn's filthy language. "Beth yw Bjorn? A lefaraf, neu oni lefaraf? Rydych chi'n newid eich meddwl mor hawdd." He gasped, arched his spine at the penetration, the muscles of his arse twitching. His entire body shook with the sudden drop in internal temperature. It was a good thing he was already dead. A human would not have withstood it. He clenched his jaw again, a murderous look reflected back at Bjorn in the glass. "Dydw i ddim yn dwp. Ni fyddaf yn hongian fy hun."

[bjorn-stormborn]

Bjorn's free hand shot out, fingers slipping round the front of Aneirin's throat, pulling the man's neck and head painfully backward, causing the vampire's back to arch. The single probing finger was replaced with three, and the ahool let ice magic cascade through the prone councilman, a magical circuit of cold that pumped energy from the man's hole to his throat and back again.

"Even dogs learn quickly to speak when spoken to..." he growled, leaning in closely, tugging the man's neck even further back "Now answer me...if you refuse, or if I hear more of that vowel-poor drivel you call a language come from your mouth, I shall pull your fangs from your skull, freeze your throat and fuck your face until your neck shatters like glass..."

[raidenproulx]

"Still some bite to you old man." Raiden grunted with an aroused chuckle as the ahool showed his strength reversing their positions. Still formidable enough to be on his radar something very few were on. The rumbling growl left him when the claws tore into him and he pushed off the wall into the English councilman crashing them through a desk and onto another. Without hesitation he grabbed the flag that was next to him, ironically it Frances area they were in, he put the pole through England's shoulder joint and the thick heavy wood of the desk pinning the bent dragon there.

"Always hated how fuckin quiet this place is." He growled grabbing the councilman by back of neck with one hand holding his head down as he came behind him, his other tearing away the trousers that were just in the way. "How long's it been for you?" He kicked the strong legs apart as he pulled out his own hard more than ready cock pushing it between the two pert half globes pressing it against the tight ring of muscle that wasn't at all ready for him. "Feels like it's been awhile, you savin yourself for me, Stormborn?" He growled against Bjorn's ear.

[bjorn-stormborn]

The ahool snarled in pain as the flagpole impaled his shoulder, the sound turning to a demented chuckle as the very ability Raiden had just demonstrated - the sheer strength required to drive metal through a dragon - showed just why the Englishman was sniffing around the other councilman.

"You or one like you..." Bjorn snarled, pressing his hands to the desk, the wood creaking as he pushed himself up slightly, the action bending the flagpole in his shoulder and forcing Raidan's hand upward. The ahool's back arched, pressing his tight entrance against that thick, invading member. "I only allow those to fuck me who can truly ruin a dragon's hole...."

Bjorn reached behind him, siezing the flagpole and sending cryonic cold into the metal until it shattered like glass. This was a dangerous course of action, given Raiden's reputation and history, but Bjorn really did want to get ruined....

Turning, Bjorn shoved the other male backward. "What's with all the talk, Tribrid? Where is the sexual prowess you are so renouned for? I expected fornication, not conversation...or maybe I should instead breed you like a common omega..."

[kresnikxkaden]

Kaden briefly stared at Bjorn with furrowed brows, trying to determine whether he was asking rhetorically or seriously. It seemed like the latter as the councilman sought an answer with his silence afterwards. "That's a loaded answer you're seekin', councillor," he stated. The fact that he and anyone else was here as a slave to begin with already implied poor treatment there. He rolled his eyes up towards the sky for a moment as he thought how to respond. "Mostly, yes, I reckon he treats me well, he just has a way of grindin' down my last nerves with his inability to communicate needs and expectations properly."

[bjorn-stormborn]

"It is not my intention to entrap you, nor to capture information from you which could be fed back to your master and make your life...more difficult..." Bjorn stated matter-of-factly "...but I am curious...if the watch on your wrist did not bind you, would you willingly serve your master and the other rulers of this world, or would you still fight for freedom with the same passion reported during the second war...?"

The ahool bent down, scratching the dog's skull gently behind the ears, fingers moving slightly this way and that until he found the sopt that made Ares' leg thump on the floor.

[taliesin-mistry-deactivated2025]

"More." The response came out of Taliesin's mouth before it had formed as a conscious thought. He processed it at the same time Bjorn did, blinking in surprise at himself. He focused on the sensation of Bjorn's skin, his arm hairs, beneath his own hand. Why had he asked for that? He needed it, didn't he? Needed to know that he was wanted, desired.

For a moment, Taliesin sat uncomfortably in his own self awareness. He looked up to Bjorn's face, meeting his gaze. Taliesin could feel his own pulse under his skin. "If you want, that is. You can feed from me, too- I mean, only if you want to." He fidgeted, squirming beneath Bjorn's stare like an animal caught in a trap. "It's what I'm for, isn't it?"

[bjorn-stormborn]

Bjorn's eyes glowed blood-red at Taliesin's words. It wasn't in the nature of either dragons or vampires to ignore prey that offered itself so freely, nor to ignore quarry that was so deliciously vulnerable.

The sound of tearing fabric echoed in the room as the ahool's hands came up and tore Taliesin's shirt from his body. Bjorn wanted to drain the human dry, to feast until nothing was left but a whithered carcass. The look in his eyes made his instincts clear.

But then Taliesin would be dead, the plaything would no longer be available...and there would probably be paperwork and cost incurred due to the demise of a slave in his care...

Fighting his most basic instincts, Bjorn instead leaned in and kissed the human deeply, undoing his own shirt and discarding it.

Breaking the kiss, Bjorn extended a claw and sliced a deep wound in his own pectoral. "Drink from me..." he growled "...you will need my blood and the regeneration it brings to endure what is to come..."

[mannythejaguar]

"Is that a serious question?" Manny managed to hold back the dry laugh that threatened to bubble up though the wry grin he flashed at Bjorn likely gave it away. Was the councilman seriously asking that question? Did he genuinely care about the wellbeing of those brought forcibly into this castle? Or was he perhaps testing the waters to see how the slaves were treated here, whether they were spoiled too much or treated as they ought to be in a councilman's or master's view. "I was caught by hunters in one of your council's annual reapings across the globe. Considering I was held prisoner here for years among a few other individual experiences with some of the masters, I wouldn't say I've enjoyed myself." Well, at least not all the time anyway. Hard not to enjoy himself during sex.

[bjorn-stormborn]

"It is indeed a serious question..." Bjorn replied, the only indication of his displeasure at Manny's tone being the flash of icy blue light that momentarily ignited in the back of his retinas.

"Many of my peers like to think of slaves, and staff for that matter, as property. I do not. The opinions of others are of interest to me, for a variety of reasons."

Bjorn took a few more paces in silence before stopping and turning to the guard. "If I may ask, how did you make the transition from slave to guard?"

[familiar-finn]

Finn only groaned in response, loud and absolutely shameless like he was only confirming Bjorn's pillow talk wasn't wrong. Heat week truly exacerbated a whole lot of things, particularly his libido, and living with Gareth who also went through heat, well... there was a lot less time in the day where he wasn't getting fucked during these weeks.

He gripped the bar so tight the wood cracked from his strength, grunts escaping through gritted teeth as Bjorn filled him to the brim with what he'd been looking for. "Fuck, you feel so fuckin' good," he breathed out, swiftly adjusting to the stretch of the dragon's cock buried inside of him. "Don't be fuckin' gentle now, give me everything you fuckin' got, gorgeous."

[bjorn-stormborn]

A firm hand pinned Finn to the bar by the neck as the dragon began to thrust, using the full length of his prick to fuck the other male with long, powerful strokes.

"A hole as slick as yours is just begging to be bred..." he snarled, siezing Finn's hair and dragging the familiar upright, a powerful arm wrapping around the other's torso, claws dragging across the skin of Finn's chest "...tell me, how many people have fucked you in the last 12 hours alone?"

Bjorn pressed a series of heated kisses to the back of Finn's neck, before twisting the familiar's head to one side and sinking his fangs into the other's jugular.

[thecharleswinchester]

Charlie winced slightly as he was slammed back against the wall, the breath getting knocked out of him for a minute. The younger dragon growled right back at Bjorn, his fingers gripping the man's neck as they continued to kiss. "You this bossy all the time or is it just during heat week?" He attempted to joke, a shout of surprise escaping him seconds later as Bjorn's fangs sank into his shoulder. Charlie arched up into him, rocking his hips against the master's.

[bjorn-stormborn]

Everything about this felt so insanely good, from the smell of Charlie filling his nostrils to the press of the fellow dragon's skin against him and the taste of his blood on his lips. It took Bjorn a concerted effort to pull his fangs out of the other's shoulder.

"Something tells me you do not object to your elder taking charge, young one..." he growled dangerously, licking the wound clean before pushing away from the other male, removing his shirt.

Turning, Bjorn pushed his jeans down, revealing his hard, thick member before sitting down on a nearby sofa.

"Come here..." the ahool snarled "...show me how well you can ride a cock..."

[kellbishop]

The slave practically melted into the sofa as soon as he was put down, a headache starting to pound in the back of his head. Though this was hardly the first time that he'd been fed from, it had been some time since a vampire had taken so much blood. Kell supposed it was a good thing that the man was a councilman and therefore probably had a good deal of control over himself.

One of his hands moved up, fingers rubbing at his temples for a moment before he made himself focus on the conversation. "I could go for some water if you don't mind." He started, offering a small smile.

[bjorn-stormborn]

The ahool nodded, turning tothe small mar in the corner of the room and fetching a bottle of water.

"You are remarkably well-versed in how to keep my kind appeased..." the ahool growled softly, moving back to the sofa and offering the bottle of water to the human. "Your intelligence is clearly a factor in having survived the castle for this long..."

Bjorn's gaze swept over the other male, contemplating something for a moment before bringing his wrist up to his own lips, sharp fangs slicing his skin.

"Here..." The ahool offered, holding his wrist out to the human "...my blood may not taste pleasant to your pallete but it, along with a good meal, should reverse the ill-effects of my feeding from you..." Bjorn glanced down at the self-inflicted wound, which was already beginning to heal "...to be clear, this is an offer, not an order, you may refuse if you would prefer to recover naturally..."

[echoesofjinu]

Naoya's head jerked to the side and his ears rung from the backhand but the action did little to stop Naoya from misbehaving, a small grin formed on his face and he started to chuckle. "Sorry, give me one second." he said and took a deep breath, forcing himself to stop laughing and he cleared his throat.

"Alright, take 2." taking another deep breath, he opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, I'm sorry Master. Please forgive me, I'm just a dumb, uneducated pyromancer who knows very little about society." Part of that statement was the truth, Naoya never got a formal education, all he was taught was how to read and write at the basic level.

[bjorn-stormborn]

Bjorn's head tilted to one side. "Mediocre...but given you do not appear to regret your actions, a passible if uninspired attempt to feign regret..."

The ahool reached out again, a finger hitching under Naoya's chin, forcing the pyromancer to meet his gaze.

"In the future, you should attempt sincerety, or at least a believable fakery of it. And while playing on your upbringing may ellicit pity in some creatures, remember that vampires are not overly given to such emotions."

Bjorn's hands slipped down to Naoya's neck, deft fingers undoing the slave's collar and letting it drop to the floor.

"You say you are a pyromancer? Show me your heat, little one..."

[nicotine-noah]

Noah loved being used rough, when the master didn't waste anytime and with Bjorn in heat that was clearly the way it was going to be. Pinned against the statue, Noah moaned in anticipation. "You got it." He breathed, gasping as his throat was grabbed and his cock throbbed in response. He shivered at the feel of Bjorn between his cheeks and cried out when he was taken so roughly and bitten at the same time. He tilted his head to give Bjorn as much room as he needed, eyes closed as the pleasure and pain of it all spiked through him in a heady mixture. Noah braced his arms against the statue and rocked back onto the cock so deep inside him, shuddering as he moved on it insistently. Fuck, this was so much better with his collar off. "Fuuuuck..." It was like all his nerve endings were turned up to eleven and he couldn't get enough, of Bjorn's fangs or his cock and every time he moved it felt that much better. The pleasure haze was already intense and he knew it would improve the longer this went on. Noah could hardly fucking wait.

[bjorn-stormborn]

Bjorn snarled loudly, fangs still latched onto Noah's neck, his hips finding that perfect rhythm to match the movement of the slave, feeling that entoxicating embrace of the cambion's own magic as it entwined with his own, syphoning off a small quantity of the ahool's power.

The ahool's fangs released, and Bjorn licked the wound clean as he continued to fuck that hot, tight hole. "Perfection..." he growled in Noah's ear, kissing along the back of the slave's neck before sinking his fangs deeply into the cambion's shoulder.

Bjorn's hand came across Noah's chest, claws pricking at the skin there as the ahool began to thrust harder. The ahool's other hand slipped down the cambions abs, encircling the slave's cock and stroking in time with his thrusts.