Spanish Summers

T'is a warm Spanish evening and Solomon Wreath, the acclaimed necromancer was curling up with a good book while he waited for his bath to be filled with warm bubbling water. He could hear Dusk padding softly downstairs as was his nature. Solomon assumed that he was fixing himself his nightly cocoa. Uncurling his long, slender legs from beneath his robed form he walked over to his tiled bath, recently sunken into the porcelain flooring of his Spanish villa, bought with his acquaintance Dusk. His tenderly dipped a toe beneath the perfumed water and after deciding that it was the appropriate temperature he unrobed and let his thin covering drop to the floor. He sighed contentedly as he slid into the tub and allowed the warm water to engulf his toned frame.

He ran his fingers happily through the water swirling the rose petals floating around him. The heady smell of the scented candles filled his mind with the thoughts of fresh fruit and summer time, of previous adventures in this delightful part of the world with a detective friend of his. This was when he was most relaxed, when he knew he couldn't be interrupted…

This is why he jumped, splashing gentle tides of water over the tiles when Dusk coughed quietly behind him.

"Dusk! You knew I was in the bath…" Solomon spoke loudly, attempting to distract Dusk from the vision under the water.

"Oh, right, sorry…I left my magazine here…" Dusk's eyes were roaming freely over the pale form in the bath, but Solomon hardly noticed as his hands were frantically trying to cover his modesty.

"Well, are you going to leave now?" Solomon asked, trying to keep a level tone.

Dusk barely nodded not bothering to answer the ivory angel submerged just a few feet away.

Solomon let a smile creep across his face as he heard the door click shut, he had always known that things with the vampire were going to get complicated…

An hour or so later the water was growing cold and Solomon decided that it was time to brave the dark house in order to get back to his chambers. He quickly rose out of the still water and reached for his silken robe. Before he could wrap the garment around himself he became aware of a shadow falling across him. His pulse quickened as the vampire stood still, gazing at the necromancers taught buttocks. Solomon changed direction instead reaching for his cane leaning against the wall just in front of him. Before he could reach it a pale hand swept it away across the room where is slid beneath the waters of the now vacated bath. Now Solomon's only option was to run, and run he did.

Squealing with fear he launched himself into the corridor, bubbles still dripping off his naked form, falling to the polished mahogany flooring. He tried to sprint, his wet feet sliding on the floor, all too aware of the pursuing vampire behind him. He knew what the consequences would be if he allowed Dusk to catch him so vulnerable. Then before he knew it his feet were no longer under him and he felt his chest colliding brutally with the wooden floor, closely followed by his legs.

He made small attempts to move and began to crawl desperately towards the nearest door before he felt the intense pressure of Dusk's boot upon his smooth back forcing him once again to lie on the floor. The sound of the zip being undone seemed to echo inside his head followed by the sound of leather sliding down flesh. He could feel the cold pressure of the vampire's thighs against his sides, squeezing his ribs. He jerked as he felt those long fingers rasp along his cheeks, the nails digging harshly into his flesh. Those fingers wandered almost lovingly towards his tight hole, slowly twisting and creeping their way closer until, with a grunt, Dusk pushed himself into him. Solomon had never felt such pain, both physical and emotional, and his screams only seemed to urge the vampire to dig deeper as the black haired man writhed beneath his questing fingers. He kept Solomon wailing until the cries turned to sobs which vibrated the body around his hand. After this Dusk knew that he needed more and he drew out his throbbing member, he pressed it into Solomon's back, preparing him for what was to come. Dusk rested his hands on the man's shoulders and eased himself into the required angle, he used the end of his love stick to play around the newly torn hole and cursed himself for his earlier roughness, the blood gushing out of Solomon's anus was making it difficult to concentrate and he really wanted to remember this.

Again with an animalistic grunt Dusk forced himself upon the quivering finger and growled as he felt those tight walls envelop him. Solomon screamed again but it gargled as his mouth was suddenly filled with bile. He coughed and spluttered feeling the warm, sticky vomit on his face and in his hair. His was feeling faint from blood loss and knew that he was soon to pass out, he almost welcomed it, anything would be better than the feeling of this huge rod tearing at his insides, invading that most precious place…Before the darkness could engulf him Dusk, sensing the oncoming unconsciousness, pulled the necromancers hair back and shouted in his ear

"You can't leave me now!"

Tears streamed down Solomon's face as he felt the sudden emptying and the hot seed seeping out of his battered hole as the vampire withdrew. Now Dusk whispered softly in his ear "That was me being gentle you whore…"

Dusk rose and pushed Solomon aside with his foot striding past him and once again containing the now satisfied beast between his legs. Before he left he kicked the necromancer in the middle forcing him to completely void his stomach of all contents onto the now sweat and blood stained floor.

Later that night Solomon lay, weeping under his bed sheets, one of his arms wrapped around his legs, the other holding a wad of material over his anus to staunch the continuous flow of blood. Dusk had ruined him, he had been saving himself for his one true love and now he was dirtied, raped by a man he thought was his friend. Vincent Valentine would never had allowed this to happen…