It was late. Juste and Maria had gone to sleep hours ago, the cabin sound asleep.
Mostly.
She bit his pillow for dear life, desperately trying to keep quiet as her fingers fisted and wrinkled the sheets. Alucard was so heavy atop of her, his chilly body blazing hot against her back. Her eyes squeezed shut, pillow muffling the whimper that escaped her lips. It was too much—too much. She gasped, head lifting reflexively as her mouth dropped open, a breathy moan wrenched out of her. It was hot. Hot, wickedly so. She could feel the burning in her cheeks, her eyes zeroing in on the headboard.
She was on her back the next moment, staring up at him. His gaze made her shiver, the gold shining brighter than usual. The moonlight reflected off his hair so unfairly. He looked like a painting above her, skin shining and slightly slick with sweat, ivory cheeks tinged pink. She wrapped her fingers around his neck, bringing him closer. He acquiesced easily, their foreheads meeting, and her eyes instinctively fell shut at the proximity. Her hands ran down his back, scratching at the skin.
“I love you.”
Alucard exhaled shakily, and next she knew, his lips were on hers.
***
Heavy; everything felt heavy. She felt each inhale and exhale through her nose, the weight at her back. Ever so slowly, her eyelids peeled open, and then promptly closed again—then opened once more, and then fell shut. She couldn’t bother moving, couldn’t bother trying to do anything, warm in the most comforting, tranquil way possible.
Only then did she realize Alucard’s arm was wrapped around her middle, chest pressed against her skin. Small and short puffs of air kissed her neck. It tickled. Her head snuggled further into the pillow, basking in his embrace.
She stared at the ceiling, rubbing at her bleary eyes with a yawn, when a heavy head of blond hair settled on her chest. She smiled as his body leaned into hers, left arm wrapping around his bare back. She kissed the top of his head, resting her cheek against him while lazily rubbing soothing circles along his shoulder blades. A sigh of content left his lips, and her heart melted.
He was warm, heavy, and hers.
“Pretty.”
Alucard lifted his head at her words, sleepy eyes meeting hers, then his face fell atop her sternum once more. She felt his smile against her skin, and her eyes closed.
Nights were always better in his arms. Warmer; quieter, with the present managing to outweigh the past’s incessant noise. Yet, slumber eluded her, as per usual.
“Sleep, already.” Adrian shifted slightly, and she heard a faint crack before he sighed in content, his hand rubbing atop her sleep shirt lazily.
“Do something about it,” though her words lacked any intensity. Meeting his quips had become second nature, his wittiness beyond compare. As time passed, she grew to adore their never-ending back-and-forths.
Adrian’s hand stopped slightly, only to very lightly slap her back. His head shook somewhat side to side, blond strands tickling her cheeks. A comfortable silence followed, and he kissed the top of her head.
All the buzz about this supposed “Oasis of Keeping” had stumped her to no end. Greta and the others had talked about nothing else the entire week, and the titles—God, they just kept getting worse and worse.
“Predestined Pond” was her last straw.
It sounded so stupid that she had to see it for herself, which, for what it was worth, turned out to be a horrendously disappointing find. So much so, her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head when she saw it.
Cattails?
They’d lost their minds over cattails when there were over three bustling wheat fields everyone had busted their asses tilling? No. The “Pity Puddle,” she’d artfully dubbed it, was meager at best. Ire, the cute black steed she’d stolen from her blond babe a while back, had so graciously declared it his favored pissing spot. Greta’s eyes nearly bulged out when she caught the horse doing just that, her yelling echoing throughout the forest while shooing him away. The whole situation was absolutely ridiculous and would have been an utter waste of time if not for what shone above them, raining gloriously into the Pity Puddle. The sight nearly took her breath away. How she hadn’t heard it before was beyond her, given how loud it was; thunderous crystallinity. A waterfall so beautiful it resembled a painting straight out of the Hold. Aquamarine, with the sun shining dazzling rays upon the water. She could cry.
She almost did, if not for what she saw beyond the water. The others were far too busy dealing with Ire to humor her, so she had trudged along the edge towards it. The closer she got, the louder the roars of the water became, and the more slippery and steep the rocks. After effectively drenching her nicest skirt and mucking up her boots while scaling the damn thing, what lay beyond the water—a process that humbled her beyond comparison—sat the true treasure. Something completely unexpected that made the whole journey to the Pity Puddle entirely worth it.
A cave—no, a cavity, small and hidden, sat before her. Despite the water’s plunging turbulence, the space was surprisingly dry (and if she was honest, a bit cute. With some blankets, a crate, and a few books, it’d make a quaint little reading nook.) A perfectly obstructed view, with no looking in or out.
Interesting.
***
She’d nearly forgotten about the find entirely until tonight. Tonight, with her mind almost blank and lips a kiss-swollen red. It wasn’t planned. The moment Alucard had slipped away from the village square, she’d pounced, dragging him away, shoving him against a tree, pressing her lips to his. The way he’d kissed back sent shivers down her spine, heat coursing through her veins. But, of course, the moment hadn’t lasted long. Alucard pulled away a second later, ragged breaths escaping swollen, flushed lips as he scolded her quietly. Gritting out 'audacious,' or 'mad,' or something along those lines. There was no way she could process a word he’d said—no way in hell she could have taken him seriously, not with adorable pink painting his cheeks, those golden eyes overtaken by an all-consuming black.
How was it her fault that she’d pulled him further into the forest for privacy? The Lord of the Castle caught in such a compromising position wouldn’t do at all, especially considering how her ministrations had left behind a pretty bulging impression; his pants would agree. She would never risk their reputation, no matter how desperate she was.
Mostly.
He didn’t object when she led him past the treeline, sticky saliva glossing their lips each time they pulled away, only to lean back in a moment later. Not when the gritty tree bark, too, began kissing along her insatiable skin, his tongue entangled with hers. His breathing grew heavier, sighs just a bit needier, and her body only ached more and more. If anything, she couldn’t resist when he looked at her like that—like she carried it all: that love, that care, like she could melt his anguish away to the very bone. Nor when his eyes trailed down, down, down before slowly meeting hers, lidded and glowing with unabashed need. It took kissing him to distract from that ruinous feeling deep inside; that decadent, consuming fervor.
Swaying from tree to tree, pushed against different barks, his lips devouring hers. Alucard could talk all he’d like, argue as he always did, but he was just as eager, if not more, than she was. He tried, oh, how he tried to resist, pulling away swiftly, his back to her, sighing harshly, only to hastily turn around and press his lips desperately against hers once again.
All of which led to ruin, burning the seams of every rational thought her mind could offer.
She couldn’t hear a thing, not with his tongue down her throat. Couldn’t care less how she’d ended up here, how the quaint little nook became their overlook of sin. Their own little world, the surging crystalline serving as gate guardian—so long as no one strayed too close, anyway. Her legs tightened around his waist when he pressed her further into the stone wall, a small moan escaping her lips at the pressure, his mouth swallowing the sound eagerly. She whined, her fingers tangling in his long blond hair. Alucard pulled away a moment later, letting out a low and dastardly erotic breath.
One of her hands untangled from his hair and wrapped around his neck, their lips a hairsbreadth apart, her eyelids nearly fluttering shut at the proximity.
“Don’t you want to be inside of me?”
His grip harshly tightened on the underside of her thighs, and her eyes snapped open to meet his gaze, golden flashing in greeting; in warning.
What fun.
“No one knows we’re here,” she continued. Forever paranoid, he was, and rightfully so. But he’d brought her here, not the other way around.
“The others may find us. You’ll hardly be able to keep quiet.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling smugly as she lightly played with his hair, its golden gleam a kiss brighter by the silvery moonlight.
“That’s the fun part,” she countered, unbothered. “We can’t get caught.”
His eyes never left hers, his brows furrowed, though she could see a crack in his gaze, that desperate resolve chipping away bit by bit.
“You do understand what’s at risk here?”
“I do. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
“Then let’s return,” he replied hoarsely, his eyes closing as he leaned in, “and I’ll have you.”
She whined quietly, ducking away from his kiss, tilting her head to the side. Instead, she ground down against him again, his breath stuttering.
“No. Here. I can’t wait.”
“It’ll only take a moment,” Alucard replied just as quietly, voice riddled with impending ruin. His lips met her throat, and the back of her head met the wall lightly.
“I want it here,” she said again with a slight whine. “Baby, please.”
He pulled away, and nearly every bit of her patience snapped at the sudden look in his eyes. The arrogance and its near-hypnotic spell. Oftentimes, she’d kiss him senseless just to wipe the smirk off his face, to make him pant and burn for her. To keep her need from getting to his head.
But tonight, none of that mattered. Not when he clearly wished to devour her whole, not when he was succumbing to her every wish, despite his rationality saying otherwise. Especially when his body went against everything his lips were saying—and even they blundered, as if her skin was a succulent honey, unable to resist.
“Against the stone,” he asked, voice a bit gruff. “With only water keeping us from the others?”
No, no, his rationality was winning—
“Take off my skirt and see how wet I am.”
He stilled, and she almost laughed.
Got him.
Clicking his tongue, Alucard gently set her on her feet, staring at her before crouching, settling on his knees, and a quiet, audacious feeling crept along her veins. He looked up at her for a long moment, and she could only stare back, her fingers caressing his jaw. How pretty he looked on his knees, bathed in moonlight, with restrained lust blazing in his eyes.
His hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging down slightly, and she acquiesced, her knees greeting the space before him. Maybe it was the heady, earthy smell of the waterfall, or perhaps her boldness that compelled her to lie on her back.
Silently, his hand met her waist, fingers slipping under her small shirt, lightly thumbing the skin before finding her skirt, tugging on the hem.
She lifted her hips, and down, down, down went the fabric, finally to her ankles, then into his hands. Alucard folded the skirt neatly and set it beside him. When he looked back, his ardent gaze had her feeling cockier than she had in a long time. He eyed her plush, spread thighs, her dripping cunt on display, glimmering lightly under the moon’s glow. He grabbed her right leg, her ankle nearly kissing his ear.
The stone wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, lightly scratching her skin. That, strangely enough, made her want it to hurt. Wanted it raw, like her skin would be after everything was said and done.
She shoved her other bare foot—where her shoes went, not a clue—against his chest, staring up at him.
“I want you inside me,” she pressed against his bulging crotch coyly. “Now.”
***
That was where she found herself several minutes later, folded in half, his throbbing cock rutting inside her over and over to the point tears nearly streamed down her cheeks. Her knees were to her chest when she came for the second time, the pearly white cream dripping down her ass and onto the fissured stone. His palm pressed against her mouth, all so she could scream as loud as he wanted her to.
She moaned dreamily against his hand, licking the skin mindlessly with her tongue, cunt pulsing around his pummeling shaft. He hissed, his hips jutting forward harshly as he pressed in so deeply that his movements paused. A mix of a squeal and a whine left her throat, his hand muffling the sound. Alucard’s swollen, reddened lips parted, his head bowed, eyes closed, long blond hair cascading down his shoulders. Blearily, she blinked up at him, taking in the deep pink adorning his cheeks, the rapid up-and-down of his bare chest, just how good he looked atop of her.
She might very well unravel at the sight of him, squeezing around his cock at the thought. His eyes burst open as a choked gasp left his throat, staring down at her with furrowed brows. She licked his palm again, slowly, never breaking eye contact. He lifted his hand from her face, moving his thumb to her lower lip, and she opened her mouth, sucking on his finger gently.
“Wicked woman.” His eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his head back, the tips of his fangs peeking out for a moment. Alucard looked back down at her, and the explosive heat in his eyes burned her skin just right. She released his thumb from her mouth with a soft pop, quietly laughing in playful agreement with his words.
“You married me.”
“And each day, I’m grateful.” His hand lowered to her throat, deliberately refraining from adding any excess pressure. The sentiment was what sent her reeling, the message crystal clear. Despite fucking her senseless, his grip was anything but rough; rather, seductively sweet, and yet another reason why she loved him so dearly.
“Keep going,” she murmured hotly after noticing he still hadn’t moved, hazy eyes still locked with hers.
She gasped when he harshly grabbed her hips, swiftly pulling out of her, only to lift her lower body off the floor. Her hands slammed atop the stone floor, fingers scrambling for purchase as he hoisted her legs atop his shoulders, only to promptly shove his face into her dripping cunt. She gasped, her elbows scraping against the ground.
“Fuck,” she nearly lost her mind when his lips wrapped around her swollen bud, unable to suppress her whining, slamming her feet against his broad back. It felt so good, so good. She never wanted him to stop.
Yet, the moment the thought crossed her mind, he pulled away, his lips coated in her own pearly gloss. Before she could say anything, he lowered her legs to the floor, his chest heaving as his back met the space beside her. She nearly choked when he grabbed her hips, setting her atop of him without a second notice. Her hands flailed to his chest for stability.
“Take what you need,” Alucard murmured hotly, grasping her hips tightly. She bit her lip, body hot and needy at his words and blatant desperation.
He didn’t need to tell her twice.
She took one hand and reached behind her, stroking his throbbing cock quickly before grabbing the base, positioning it—
Then forcefully dropped onto him, a pitchy yelp wrenched from her, a loud groan leaving his throat. She whined, putting her hand back on his torso, rotating her hips, grinding her clit against him for friction. Heavens, he was so warm.
“I’m so close,” she whimpered, and his grip on her tightened, though he didn’t move an inch. He wanted her to fuck herself on him the way she liked, and she took full advantage, the dips in his muscled torso making her clit slip and fall just right. A whine escaped her, cheeks burning as she shivered, hips jutting forward slightly, spasming. He squeezed her hips tighter, and he lifted her up, up, then down—again, and again, and again. Her hands rushed to the stone beside his head, hips moving on their own, meeting his every thrust.
Fuck, he was hitting everything she needed him to. Her ass clapped against his thighs stickily as she began to bounce wildly; his lips wrapped around her right nipple. She needed it, needed it. Every little drop he could give her, every moan, every curse. She wanted it all. He’d made her greedy, so absurdly greedy.
“Adrian,” she cried out, hearing him groan between her breasts, licking at her sweaty sternum. Lost, lost, she could barely take it anymore, her insides clamping, aching, her ears beginning to ring.
Then, she felt a sharpness alongside the potent, unmistakable scent of iron.
Wait, his teeth—!
White flooded her vision, feeling her mouth drop open before her mind disappeared. Everything muted into silence as she felt wave after wave crash over her, dragging her from the bottomless depths to the tranquil, sweet shore.
After what felt like an eternity, the sensation of blood dripping down her breasts finally brought her back to the world of the living. A delirious smile graced her features. His tongue lapped at her life elixir eagerly, lips dragging along her puckered buds. Warm. She felt warm.
“There she is,” Alucard whispered, and only then did she realize he was still moving, a whimper escaping her. It stung a bit, but his lips trailing along her throat served as a harsh distraction. The squelching reached her ears, then, and her core clenched, skin flushing at the depravity of it all.
Insatiable vampire.
Bringing a hand to his hair, she tugged on the golden tresses tightly. She couldn’t go again, even if she wanted to, the haziness overwhelming. He was still achingly hard, she realized, the hairs on her arms raising. Instinctively, she lifted her hips, his cock slipping out of her, a minute moan leaving her at the sensation. She sighed, lowering herself atop of him, uncaring that their sticky spend clung to her skin uncomfortably.
Her eyes closed as she rested her head against his clavicle, cunt pulsing slightly as it dripped and dripped creamy white. Alucard let out a contented chuckle, wrapping an arm around her waist, the other kneading her ass slowly.
“No longer Adrian Țepeș. Choosing to be Alucard of Wallachia.”
He doesn’t call himself Adrian anymore. He died when his mother and father did.
Alucard is a soldier of never-ending valor, always there when the world begins to fall. Should night creatures and human greed sprout from the dark, he’ll be there awaiting them, granting eternal silence. The aftermath is quiet, calm. He doesn’t stay for long, the cold in a crowded room, fading away before fate calls upon him once more: Son of Dracula.
When that day comes, when the cycle breaks, shattering into a thousand pieces in his mind’s eye, what then? It’s nauseating, that deliciously horrifying word which drove the King of the Night mad. What then, when his dreary cycle stills and falls victim to her, his vice? Breaking him apart to his very marrow, unraveling a secret so icily hidden even he’d forgotten what it was—who it was.
Adrian Țepeș is a sensitive man, gentle, and retains every word spoken to him. Witty and wagging a snarky tongue. He, who believes his blood to be cursed, his existence an anomaly—never a mistake, for he is his mother’s son. No, he dwells within that endless in-between, in which he’s not of this world, nor the other. Alone. What happens when he’s shown he deserves this?
He starts with delicate kitten licks, derailing into a full-on makeout session. His tongue laves all over your core noisily, slick with both your come and his copious spittle, cunt reddened and gooey. Eyes closed, long lashes fanning his cheeks as he enjoys his meal, devouring it whole. He relishes it, groaning lowly as he momentarily loses track of reality.
Although he never lets his fangs prick anywhere delicate, he does enjoy those imperceptible shivers when his teeth graze your inner thighs just a bit. It makes him chuckle in that mesmerizing baritone of his. The deep, husky vibrations combined with how his lips wrap around your engorged clit as his tongue laps at your flesh? Mind-breaking.
He won’t stop, won’t let go until he’s finished, mouth dripping creamy white that he wipes with his thumb, pressing the digit into your aching hole bluntly before pulling back, his gaze locked onto his work. Only then will he look away, expression calm, spare his eyes, dilated to the point where hardly any color is left, molten gold fighting against his abyssal pupils. He’s eager, and he’s hungry.
