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There was a fire in your eyes, never waning, never dying. You’d outlast his life tenfold, and he knew it as well, but that wasn’t a conversation for nights like these. No, on nights like these, he’d make you crawl, gloved hands and stockinged knees. A predator, adorned with lace and silk and a collar around your neck.
Two truths made up the foundation of this peculiar relationship.
Firstly, both of you knew that you could easily destroy him. Tear him to pieces until he'd be little more than disassembled flesh and bone. Until the sweet essence of his body would cover you in brilliant, scarlet rivulets.
But secondly and more importantly, you both knew that he'd trained you well enough so you wouldn't.
As much as you held the power of life and death within your palm, Jonathan held the leash that kept you tethered to his side. A snarling, exotic pet that bent to his will.
And exactly this predicament was what got you addicted in the first place.
The sensation of kneeling; of obeying. The delicious humiliation of submitting to what was supposed to be prey. The lust in his eyes always mirrored your own, because as much as he liked to lead and own, you desired to follow and be possessed.
“Jonathan,” you rasped, fixing him with gleaming, insatiable eyes from where you knelt before him. The clicking of his tongue betrayed his disapproval, but there was no ire in his eyes. No, the icy blue of his irises was almost completely eclipsed by his blown-out pupils, darkened with a need that only you could satiate.
“Pets don’t speak, do they?”
Your jaw clenched at that, lips pulling down into a frustrated pout, which only caused him to chuckle lowly. His pointer finger flexed, silently commanding you to get closer to where he was seated on the edge of his workbench. Of course, you knew what he kept in those sickly green vials and syringes. You knew from the second he stumbled upon you that fateful night, mistaking you for a helpless little thing he could use to test his latest concoction.
It was only when you revealed your nature that the tables turned instantly. In hindsight, you were happy that you didn’t rip his throat open; that you took the time to see him for what he was. Now, you were monsters of two different kinds, toying with each other in ways that made your skin crawl delightfully.
You followed the gesture of his finger, breath hitching as he hooked it into the metal ring of your collar and yanked you even closer and up on your knees, cheek resting on his thigh.
“You’re famished, aren’t you, pet?” he said, regarding you with a haughty smile that caused your insides to shiver with need. You didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. Jonathan knew the telltale signs of your vampiric hunger; could tell by your posture, the lacking health of your hair, and dull skin.
He hummed, thumb caressing your jaw as he kept his eyes on your ruby ones. Then, he patted his lap with his free hand.
“Up.”
The bell on your collar jingled as you got settled in his lap, straddling his thighs and shifting to get comfortable. Jonathan allowed it, surprisingly patient for a man who adored the marks that a little rough treatment would leave on your body. But for now, he just watched as you got situated, his fingers idly tracing patterns over your hip, which caused goosebumps to spread beneath his touch. Once you were finally settled, he brushed the back of his hand over your cheek and then higher up to adjust the plush cat ears on the top of your head. Something you used to pretend to hate. Fortunately, Jonathan was stubborn enough to insist on them time and time again. Until you gave in and openly started to enjoy the little accessories and trinkets.
“Good girl,” he praised softly, grabbing the back of your neck.
Your eyes were fixed on his nimble hands as he undid his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Instantly, your attention was caught by the steady thrumming of his pulse beneath his skin. The mere thought of his velvety blood on your tongue already made you salivate. A willing morsel.
“No. Focus.”
His voice and the tightening grip on your nape released you from your momentary trance, and you swallowed thickly. “You know the drill.”
His cock was already hard by the time he freed himself from the confines of his slacks. Obediently as ever, you raised your hips and allowed him to pull your panties down and carelessly toss them aside.
With how quickly you were complying, one might’ve thought your years of immortality were about to catch up to you. But it was the hunger that drove the urgency of your movements. Hunger that felt like a black hole in the pit of your stomach. A hole that only the rich, sanguine lifeblood of your master could fill.
Jonathan’s free hand crept up the inside of your thigh at an agonizing snail’s pace, taking far too long for your liking until his fingertips dipped between the glistening folds of your pussy. Fleeting pleasure. Far too little to please, yet too much to stay still. Your needy whine earns yourself a tug on your hair.
“Behave,” he warned, rubbing slow circles around your clit. Jonathan let go of your hair again, unbuttoning his shirt more and more to properly expose his shoulder. You almost bit your own tongue at the sight. The faintest visible throb of his heartbeat, the healthy flush on his pale complexion; arousal, excitement.
And a hint of fear.
Terror beneath rose-tinted glasses.
It was an exercise of restraint as he made you sink down on his length, stretching you open around his cock. The appetizer to the impending main course.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, breath heavy and hands grasping onto the flesh of your hips as he looked up at you. Eyes full of need. Of reverence and trepidation.
And then, Jonathan dipped his head back to bare his throat to his most favorite pet.
“Feed.”
Your mouth was on his throat within seconds as you pounced like the predator you were. Tongue lapping at his skin, you felt the steady beat of his heart as you licked a stripe up the column of his neck. And then you sunk your teeth into his flesh. Deeply.
The man beneath you flinched, his grip tightening on you as a pained groan slipped past his rosy lips. The initial bite always hurt. But what followed was the sweetest pleasure. His eyelids fluttered shut as you began to swallow gulps of his blood, drinking him like the most exquisite wine.
Jonathan had to pull himself together, gritting his teeth to focus as he began to thrust up into you, fulfilling his own carnal desires. Quickly taking the hint, you followed along to his rhythm, meeting every roll of his hips with one of your own.
Moaning with a mouthful of blood, your hands found their way into his hair, desperately tugging and pulling as your mind started to blank. Debased, bouncing in the lap of your master, you were less than and more than human at the same time.
A creature tamed by pleasure.
As Jonathan slowly started to become light-headed, his fingers curled into the back of your collar to pull you off of him, and after one more flick of your tongue against the wound, you released his flesh from between your fangs.
Both of you were panting and whimpering, working up to a desperate climax that was rapidly approaching. Jonathan’s blood was smeared across your parted lips, rolling down your chin and throat in beautiful runlets, and disappearing in the valley between your breasts. If this were the last thing he’d ever see, Jonathan was sure he could die a happy death.
But not now.
Right now, he was alive, and his thrusts sped up as he neared the edge. Despite the loss of blood, his pulse sounded even louder in his ears, and you could hear it as well.
Gritting his teeth, he reached down your bodies to rub your clit with his thumb, determined to push you over the edge first. It’s what any good owner would do.
The filthy moan he got from you in response was reward enough for him, and even in this state, he still managed to grin up at you as your face twisted with pleasure. Grabbing onto his shoulders, your back arched as you came, whimpering and choking out noises with your face tilted towards the ceiling.
Jonathan’s pace only quickened, emboldened by the sight of your trembling form and the exquisite clenching of your slick folds around his cock. Even as you began to squirm, his thumb kept circling your clit.
“No. No, don’t pull away. Don’t be greedy, pet. Let me have this– “ His voice was strained, hissed out from between bared teeth as the bucking of his hips grew more erratic.
One more thrust. And then another. And he finally, finally succumbed to the bliss of his own climax. Jonathan cursed under his breath, pulling your body flush against his to get to your shoulder, where he sank his own teeth into your skin. Or, well, tried to. Aside from the dull pain, he didn’t do any damage.
His bite would leave a bruise; yours would leave a scar. One of many.
And neither of you would ever want it any other way.