Well, It's finally time. Good God, but this took me a hell of a time to write. Yes, this is the long-in-coming chapter that I have been saving to test my lemon-writing capabilities. I can't possibly imagine that anyone reading by this point would be offended by this scene, but to be on the safe side it has been denoted with triple gray lines. Still, I did my best to write in as much a civilized manner as I could. Besides all that, there's a lot of important character development in this chapter, so there's that to look forward to. I was more fearful writing this chapter than any other, but hell, it's here, done, nothing left I can do. On with the story.

Finn stood idly in the kitchen by the stove, waiting for the kettle's whistle to signify that the water had been heated to a suitable degree (roughly 373 Kelvin). Two large ceramic mugs stood close by on the adjacent counter, each filled with instant cocoa powder. Marceline had requested a warm beverage, leaving the finer choice to him. He himself felt like he could do with something sweet.

He stood, as always, in his fur-trimmed cloak, below which he was clothed in a thick blue sweater and black pants. Ooo had a very fickle climate, and even though it had barely passed into the season of fall the temperature had fallen to near freezing across the land.

The actual causation had to do with a massive glacier in the East Sea and powerful winds bringing its chill across the land, though Finn had no knowledge of this. All he knew was it was cold. Even deep within their cavern the chill pervaded, and though Marceline had the means to heat her house slightly he still found it necessary to layer up.

As people are won't to do, Finn's thoughts ran freely given this peaceable moment to himself. He had found himself feeling rather confused as of late, mostly regarding the recent behavior of his Mistress.

Finn found it difficult to explain in words. Marceline had seemed… distant, or conflicted, maybe. He couldn't place exactly when her behavior had begun to waver, only noting that it had seemed to grow stronger in recent weeks.

She hadn't treated him any worse. She still made all her usual respective demands of him. And she still fed from him regularly. It may have simply been his imagination, but it almost seemed to Finn like she was avoiding him more. She seemed to spend less and less time in his presence, and except for when she fed, seemed to consciously avoid physical contact.

That said, when she did actually feed from him he noticed that even after she had finished her touch would linger. She'd spend a great deal of time simply sitting or lying there, holding him. Of course he never brought it up, both enjoying the company himself but also being so weak after bloodletting to remove himself. But as soon as she drew away she'd once more be avoiding him.

Finn had begun to feel rather saddened as these quirks became more pronounced. After those days spent in the Sky Kingdom, after those nights he spent in the embrace of Marceline, he felt… deprived.

He didn't understand any of it. Why did it seem like Marceline was avoiding him? Had he done something to upset her? Was she simply growing tired of him? That couldn't be the case. Finn refused to believe that was a possibility. After all, Marceline was his…

What was she to him? His Mistress, yes, that much was given. He would serve her with unwavering loyalty for the rest of his days, but the devotion he knew was expected of a servant was not the same as what he felt. Not exactly.

How was he expected to make sense of these things? He'd spent half his life in a cage, with only slaves not much smarter than him to talk to, and before that he had no memory. He had never learned of concepts like love or compassion, at least enough to label them. He'd only been taught to serve without question, a trait that had been thoroughly imprinted upon him.

A piercing whistle sounded from the kettle as steam was jettisoned through the small hole. Finn set aside his thoughts to move the kettle to a cooler section of the oven, turning off the burner. He poured the hot water into each of the mugs, topping each off with a small bit of milk and stirring up the contents. Grabbing each by the handle, he made his way to the lounge.

Marceline was sitting on her couch, relaxing and watching some senseless television. She herself was dressed in warm clothes, long pants and a thick sweater, and also had a big, fluffy blanket wrapped around her.

People seemed to have this idea that vampires were "cold blooded", which was not necessarily true. True, their body temperature was lower than most species in Ooo, but there were in fact colder species than they. Still, that didn't mean they liked to freeze themselves.

She heard Finn pad into the room and come around the couch. "Here you are, Mistress." He softly said as he placed one mug on the table in front of her. He then walked himself over to the armchair and took a seat, setting down his own mug.

Marceline made an effort to try to keep her focus on the television but continually found herself stealing glances at Finn. Ever since her… revelation, at the festival, she'd found it extremely difficult to interact with Finn as she had before.

She couldn't help but marvel at how far Finn had come from the broken little cretin she'd first found. He'd grown, physically as well as mentally. He would probably come up to her chin by now. It was easy to forget how short he actually was when in simple comparison to how small he had been.

Their relationship had matured as much as Finn had. Finn had come to know her, and her expectations of him, so well that their normal day-to-day had become almost entirely routine. In other words, they'd become completely comfortable with each other.

Perhaps that was the reason Marceline had such trouble approaching him in recent months. She had no clue how she could possibly go about explaining to Finn how she desired for him to feel different things to her. How can she simply ask a person to love her? How could she explain what she felt for him? How could she even explain what love meant?

She looked to Finn again. His golden hair had grown rather long, coming over an inch below his shoulders and pooling in the hood his cloak. 'That cloak…' She thought, scrutinizing the garment.

She'd bought that cloak for him the day she bought… well, him, over five years ago. The cloak, which once served to totally envelope him, now hung closer to his knees, and seemed to fit tighter around his shoulders.

It suddenly occurred to her that he never actually removed the thing. Even when they weren't travelling, when they were simply staying in her home, he wore the cloak all day. As far as she knew, he only removed it to sleep.

It never occurred to her as odd before, but for some reason she suddenly desired to question this. She called over to her servant, "Finn?"

Finn had been attempting to sip from his beverage, but after barely touching it to his tongue felt it burn, and quickly removed it. Upon hearing his Mistress call his name he set the drink back down and turned to her. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Why is it that you always wear that cloak? Every day, all day, outside and indoors, you've always got that thing on. Why?" She spoke in a politely curious demeanor, rather than as a demanding question.

Finn hadn't been expecting any sort of questions, especially regarding this topic. His fingers went to the edges and he pulled the cloak tighter around himself. He stuttered mildly nervously, rather unsure of how exactly he was supposed to answer. "I… I, don't… really know. It's just… I do."

Marceline supposed she really couldn't have expected much more of an answer. Why did Finn do anything at all except for that fact that that was all he knew. Her thoughts stayed idle on the topic as she continued through with the conversation. "You know, that thing is really old and beat up. Maybe we should go out and get you a new one…"

"No!" Finn interjected suddenly, before she could finish her statement. Marceline was startled by his outburst, and looked questioningly at him. Finn shrunk back in his chair, looking away from Marceline continuing to clutch at the cloak. "No." He said, much, much softer this time.

Marceline sat in silence, waiting for Finn to catch her gaze. When finally he peeked back up at her he saw her expression that clearly questioned his outburst and desired an explanation. "I can't give this up. This cloak… it's… it's the first thing…" He trailed off there.

Marceline finished for him, "It's the first gift I gave you." But Finn shook his head, softly answering back, "It's the first gift… anyone gave me." Finn tilted his head back down after saying this, looking almost forlornly at his steaming mug.

Marceline felt stun, and slight remorse. She'd often forgotten that before Finn fell into her care he was living in literal cages, subservient to men infinitely crueler than she, for five long years. Of course he'd had no bright spots in that terrible chapter of his life.

But even so, Marceline knew he'd only been with them for five years. That still left quite a large amount of time unaccounted for. She didn't believe she'd ever asked him about his past; it had never been relevant to her.

Now, however, things were changing quite rapidly. It seemed odd to her that the boy seemed to imply that he had never, EVER, been shown any sort of kindness in his life prior to meeting her. Tonight seemed as good a night as any to try and unravel these mysteries.

She began slowly, cautiously. "Finn… You've never really told me about… well, your life. Before you became a slave, that is." She tried to speak as caringly as she could, but Finn still seemed to grow even more depressed with this question.

"I… Don't remember. I don't remember anything before the camp… All I knew was my name, but nothing else." He continued to speak very softly. Marceline's heart wrenched in sympathy for Finn.

"You truly don't remember anything. Nothing at all?" She asked again. "N…" Finn almost started, but stopped just short of speaking. Marceline crooked her neck slightly, it was obvious Finn had taken something else into consideration.

"I… maybe. I don't really know… for sure. But… well, I… have this dream, sometimes. I have it a lot. Well… not so much anymore, but I used to have it all the time." Finn paused briefly and looked up to Marceline. She was watching him intently, patiently waiting for him to continue.

"In my dream… I'm in a caravan camp. Everything is burning, and there a lot of big men… killing everyone in the camp. And at the end… I always get hit and black out… and someone screams my name." Finn almost looked to be in pain. Marceline could see the hints of tears just forming in the corner of his eyes.

He continued speaking, "The dream is always exactly the same… Sometimes, it doesn't even seem like a dream… Like, I can feel the fire burning my skin. I can feel this thing bash my chest… It's less like a dream, and more like… like a memory." Finn audibly choked back a sob as tears slowly streamed down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry… Mistress… I… shouldn't… have bothered you… with this." He croaked out between sobs. Marceline couldn't stand to see Finn, her Finn, break down any further. Without any thought, she stood from her spot on the couch and walked over to Finn.

She wedged herself into the free space on the chair between Finn and the armrest. In a single fluid motion, she had turned Finn towards her and embraced him, drawing his face into her shoulder and wrapping her large blanket around the both of them,

Finn, thoughtlessly, threw his arms around Marceline's back and held onto her tightly, now crying unrestrained into her. Marceline simply held him as he released many years' worth of repressed terror. She had her left hand around his back and her right softly stroking his hair.

They sat like that for a good twenty minutes before Finn had calmed himself. When finally his sobbing had subsided, he tried to address Marceline, voice still slightly broken, "Forgive me, Mistress… I shouldn't… "

Marceline cut him off quickly, saying, "Finn, please. You don't have to apologize. I know you've been through a lot. I know you were treated badly by the merchants. I know you've lost much of your memory. Even after you came with me, your life has still been put in danger. I'm sorry I wasn't able to help you all those times, but…"

Marceline had to collect herself, now was the moment when she would decide whether or not she revealed her true feelings to Finn. She let a very slight chuckle escape her lips, "But now, you're stuck with me. And I… I really care about you, Finn."

Marceline could feel Finn's arms loosen around her as he pulled back a short distance. They looked into each other's faces. Finn's eyes were still rather red, but he had dried his tears on her sweater. Marceline's expression looked somewhat sad, but also displayed an extreme amount of caring.

"Finn…" She began. It was now or never. "There's something I… want, from you." Before Finn had a chance to verbally reply she had leaned her face forward and pressed her lips into his.

Finn had no idea what was going on. It felt like electricity was arcing across his body in the most pleasant way. His arms went limp as his Mistress put her face against his. He didn't know what she was doing, but he was certainly enjoying it. For a moment he almost thought she was feeding from him, but there was a noticeable difference in the feeling. This wasn't an overwhelming sensation that sent him into a haze, but a more subtle exchange of energy between them.

Marceline lost herself. She was finally about to get everything she desired; or might possibly alienate Finn for good. Finn wasn't moving, but he wasn't pulling away either. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

Marceline held them together for a good while. When she finally pulled away she looked into Finn's eyes, which were open wide. A blush had appeared across both of their faces. Finn pulled himself out of the lingering daze enough to ask, "Wha… What was that?"

Marceline was almost regretting what she had done, as she now had no clue how to proceed. Well, she supposed she'd just have to play it by ear. "That… was a kiss, Finn. People kiss when… when they… love someone."

Finn, still looking somewhat flustered, now looked mildly confused as well. "What do you mean by 'love someone'?" Marceline was afraid of this; the kid had absolutely no concept of the feeling. This was going to be difficult.

She began, seeming unsure of her own words, "Love is… when you care about someone more than any other person in the world, even more than yourself. It's when you want to spend your life with them beside you. It's when you have someone that just makes you feel… happy, and you'd do anything to make them happy too." She was rather surprised by how well spoke.

She continued to watch Finn, whose confused expression was slowly changing to that of contemplation. He spoke, "Is that what happens when I get this tight feeling in my chest… like my insides are moving all around, but it doesn't hurt. And it makes me feel nervous?"

Marceline slowly understood the implications of Finn's explanation, "I think so Finn." Finn continued, "But… what you said. That's how I've always felt about you. Because I'm… your slave" Marceline thought back, and it did seem that her definition completely fit Finn's feeling toward her for nearly the entirety of their time together.

Marceline spoke, nearly at a whisper now, "I guess the difference is… you don't have a choice when you're a slave. It's when you're in love that you want to make someone happy." She looked down between them, avoiding his eyes. Maybe she really had misinterpreted his feelings. Maybe there really wasn't any chance for him to feel so strongly for her.

Finn was able to pick up on her distress, but had only a vague clue as to what exactly was going through her head. He knew he had to say something at this point, but the last thing he wanted at this point was to make his Mistress unhappy. The best thing, he figured, that he could do was to tell the truth.

"Mistress…" He held his tongue back, carefully deciding what he should say. "Marceline…" He cautioned using her real name; this was obviously very important to the both of them. At the sound of her actual name, Marceline raised her head to reconnect their gaze. "I know… you bought me to be your slave. But you're also the only person who was ever nice to me. More than nice… I really do care about you, I think, in the way you just said. It's been a very long time sinceI served you just because it was my duty. I want you to be happy Mistress… And if you need me to love you to be happy… I can do that. I want to."

Marceline was now the one on the verge of tears. Looking into Finn's eyes, which now seemed stalwart in comparison to her own demeanor, she could see true and utter devotion. "Are you sure Finn?" Her voice was so small, but held so much hope. Finn nodded, and offered her his usual weak smile.

For Marceline, the worst was now over. Finn had essentially just pledged his undying love to her; at least, that's what she perceived. But now that she knew he was in agreement with her feelings, her confidence was rapidly returning.

She rose up slightly, a smile, delightfully wicked smile was now creeping across her as she looked slightly down at Finn. "If that's the case then, there's a lot more I'm going to be expecting of you."

Finn saw an unfamiliar gleam in her eye, and couldn't deny that the smile was just the slightest bit unnerving. But he was unconcerned. Whatever she desired of him, he'd happily oblige. Never losing his smile, he said, "Anything, for you, Mistress."

In lieu of an explanation, Marceline brought both her hands up to cup Finn's face. She brought her own face down and locked lips with him once more, this time with much more unreserved passion.

Marceline felt a warmth starting to fill her entire body, an energy, a desire. She knew she was in a position to mark Finn as hers in the most permanent way. It had been many a year since she last felt the intimate touch of another, and she had long been craving a lover's embrace since she first realized her feelings for Finn.

She drew back from him, finding that he had closed his eyes, lost in the moment. He slowly opened his eyes to see Marceline looking at him with a completely unfamiliar expression. It was almost like a look of hunger, but notably different. Her breaths escaped her in lightly audible gasps.

Before he knew what was happening Marceline had quickly stood up, flinging the blanket off of the both of them. As she stood, her hands went to his wrists, grabbing them and pulling him up alongside her.

She spoke quickly, almost sounding short of breath. "Come with me to my bedroom." This sounded like far more of a demand than anything else she had said tonight, but Finn would dutifully follow regardless. She turned around but kept one hand clasped around his left wrist, and marched them out and up the stairs toward her quarters.

Marceline practically dragged Finn into her room, not because he was resisting, she was just moving so hastily. He looked around her room, amazed at how alien the place still felt despite how long he'd lived here.

Marceline pushed Finn to the edge of her massive bed, whose indigo curtains were held open at the foot. He was still unsure of what she had planned, but he trusted her completely. She stepped up to him, standing very close to his body.

She gave a playful smile before pushing him backwards. His legs had been right at the edge of the bed, so he easily gave way and stumbled back into the thick blankets. He crawled back slightly so he was positioned more towards the head of the bed.

Marceline surprised him slightly when she lifted her sweater over her head and tossed it aside, revealing the thin white tank top she had on underneath. She placed her hands on the bed and gracefully lifted herself up, landing so she was crouched above Finn's lower body.

Finn crawled back further still, until his back was slightly propped up against the multitude of pillows placed against the headboard. Marceline matched and exceed his movement, bringing her face up very close to his own.

He noticed her eyes were half-lidded, and she wore a… knowing smile. "Finn… I'm going to teach you quite a few things tonight." She darted forward quickly and captured his mouth once more.

This time, though, Finn was surprised when he felt something warm and wet intrude in his mouth. It was her tongue. This was a very strange sensation for Finn, but he graciously allowed Marceline's tongue to dominate his own. He could feel every twist and turn occurring inside of his mouth. Her own tongue seemed slightly different from his own, longer and thinner.

As they kissed, Marceline ran her hand up Finn's chest. Her fingers were dragged upward along his abdomen, across his pectorals. Her hands ghosted across the collar around his neck and finally curled around the sides of his head, digging into his thick hair.

After what seemed like an eternity to them both, Marceline finally leaned back. Finn's face was totally flushed as blood surged across his body. By now he didn't care that he had no knowledge of what exactly was happening. Marceline knew exactly what she was doing, and Finn was totally content to let her do whatever she pleased to him.

He was becoming more and more aware of his body's reaction to all these happenings. He could feel the weight of Marceline's form atop him, pinning him into the luxuriously thick mattress. He took notice of her body as well. He didn't know why he was drawn to it the way he was; the length of her legs, the thinness of her frame, the swell of her breasts, he was drawn to all her best physical features, but couldn't explain why in a coherent manner. It seemed more like some sort of primal knowledge drove him in these respects.

Now Marceline was on the move again. She first unhooked the clasp holding Finn's cloak, which fell to the bed. She trailed her hands back down his torso, lightly digging her clawed fingertips into his skin. When she reached the bottom of his sweater, she curled her finger underneath the fabric and lifted. Finn relinquished all control to her, going limp and allowing her to remove the garment from his body, which she then tossed to the side of the bed.

Marceline gazed at his bare chest. His skin was almost clear white. Then her gaze shifted to the now completely exposed metal collar, the symbol which served as a constant reminder as to the core of their relationship. Finn belonged to her. She felt no guilt for thinking this; it was a simple fact. A fact made all the sweeter with the knowledge that Finn would willingly… has willingly given his life to her.

"Your mine," She let out, really more a breath than something meant to be heard. She leaned down again, this time hanging her head over Finn's torso. Her silk-soft hair hung down the sides of her face and tickled Finn.

She placed a soft kiss on the top of his chest, at the tip of his sternum. Then another towards the middle. She pecked a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach. When she finally reached his waist she lifted her head just a bit to look up at Finn. He had his head back against a pillow and seemed to be staring at something in the ceiling. His breathing was elevated, she could hear each inhale and exhale raggedly entering and exiting his lungs.

She hooked her index finger around the waistband of his pants and pulled them slowly down, still leaving his boxers as they were. She had to crawl backwards a bit to remove them completely from him, tossing them aside along with his socks. Finally, Finn lay before her, nearly naked save for his boxers, staring at the ceiling and practically panting in anticipation.

Now was her turn. She stretched out once again over Finn, bringing her mouth up to his neck. Finn felt her place a harsh kiss there, almost seeming to be attempting to suck his flesh off. It felt odd to him, accustomed as he was to being fully bitten. All the while he felt Marceline squirming against him, driving him crazy. He let an adorably pathetic whimper escape his throat.

Marceline eventually disconnected and lifted herself up so she was sitting straddled atop him. Finn shifted his gaze to Marceline, noting she now wore nothing except that deviously thin tank-top and a pair of purple short-boxers.

Finn was waiting with bated breath for Marceline to make her next move. He couldn't describe how he felt except that he was excited. But Marceline simply sat there, watching him for an extended time. Finally she told him, in a very low, husky voice, "Sit up."

Finn moved almost hypnotically, unable to look away from her brilliant violet eyes, and scooted himself up so his back was now up against the mountain of pillows at the headboard.

Once Finn had stopped moving Marceline moved her hands to the bottom of her tank top, slowly dragging it up and off of her torso. Finn's eyes grew massive and his mouth hung open comically as his Mistress exposed herself to him.

Marceline wore her nudity unbothered by the presence of Finn, who seemed paralyzed. She giggled at his behavior. 'You can break down any man until there's almost nothing left. You can cage them their whole life so they have no knowledge of the world. But put a nude girl in front of them and suddenly that's all they know.' She thought.

She then inched herself closer to Finn, who was able to tear away his gaze to reconnect with her eyes. When she was positioned between his legs, she spoke to him, "I want you to touch me Finn." Finn though, made no move to do anything.

Marceline seemed almost annoyed for a moment. She didn't know if his hesitance was due to nervousness or a simple lack of knowledge. Either way, it seemed she'd have to guide Finn throughout the ordeal.

She reached out and grabbed both of his hands at the wrist and brought them up to her chest. She felt Finn's warm skin come into contact with her bare breasts and released her hold on him. "Go on." She said, hoping he could at least figure things out from this point.

Working as much by instinct as guess work, Finn simply began kneading her breasts. Marceline allowed her head to dip back slightly and her eyes to closed, indicating to Finn that he was moving in the right direction.

Becoming more comfortable, Finn began moving faster. Things felt more natural as he went on. He brushed his thumbs over her excited nipples, eliciting a light moan from Marceline. Taking her cues, Finn began to work on her more sensitive zones, listening for any indication as to where she was most sensitive.

This was nice, but Marceline was rapidly becoming more and more worked up. She needed to get things moving faster. Bringing her head back down to look at Finn, she reached her hand out to him without his notice.

It snaked its way into his pants and found his fully erect member. She grasped hold of it, forcing a shocked breath out of Finn who stopped his ministrations. "Keep going." She ordered sultrily to him. When finally he had the presence of mind to continue, Marceline rewarded him by beginning to stroke his shaft with her soft, delicate hands.

Finn groaned at length. He was almost in disbelief at how surreal things were becoming. The things Marceline was doing to him, the pleasure she was causing, were quite similar to how he felt when she fed from him. But whereas that happened at a nervous level, this feeling was far more physical, more present.

With no warning, Marceline immediately pulled her hand away, causing Finn to whimper in disagreement. Marceline, though, knew she had to hold back if she didn't want to… spoil him so quickly. Finn was completely new to this; she knew she'd have to ease him into this lifestyle like she did when she began feeding from him.

Marceline was on fire now, and in desperate need of scratching the itch that pervaded within her. Almost trembling by this point, she gripped the band of Finn's boxers and pulled. Finn lifted himself to assist her, and soon he was sitting before her wearing nothing except the metal collar around his neck.

She finally got a picture to go with what she had felt before, sliding through her fingers. It was… more than she had expected, honestly. It'd work satisfactorily.

She teasingly reached her tongue out, and slowly licked it's length from base to tip, causing Finn to shutter and groan. Reaching the top, she continued her movement until she had risen back to his eye level. At last she fell backwards, hands going to her underwear to slide them off.

The two now sat before one another, totally exposed, totally open. For Marceline, this was the culmination of their slowly built relationship; defined subservience from which grew love. As for Finn, all he knew was that this was what his Mistress, his love, wanted, and by extension was what he wanted.

Marceline may not have realized it until recently, but she had been waiting for this moment for decades, and she was sick of waiting. Eyes filled with lust, Marceline lunged at Finn, forcefully locking their mouths together yet again as her hands went under his arms around his back, gripping needful at the roots of his hair.

Finn felt her tongue force its way into his mouth to dance with his own. Her soft breast were pressed tight into his chest. By some force he was not cognizant of, his own arms went around the small of her back, and held her as tightly as she held him.

Marceline brushed her hairless mound against Finn's member. The unexpected pressure forced a suppressed moan from the both of them. That was it; that was the last straw. Marceline was well ready to take him.

While she continued to passionately kiss him, mouths only separating for seconds at a time for air before reconnecting, she raised her hips up the necessary distance to position herself over him. She did not need to see to know what she was doing, her already impressive senses were heightened in the heat of the moment.

She slowly lowered herself on him, letting his sensitive head slip past her opening. Finn couldn't help himself, and threw his head back, releasing her hold on him. He let out an almost pained sounding squeal, but Marceline could tell from his eyes that he was reeling from the unfamiliar pleasure.

She sank lower and lower, until she had his entire length buried in her. Her abdomen trembled as she lowered her own head in a low moan. It'd finally happened, they'd become connected.

Finn's hips jerked unconsciously, his body was aware of what was being done even if his mind wasn't. Both were already quivering in ecstasy, and then Marceline began to move. She began slowly raising herself up, and letting herself fall back down, forcing Finn's staff to plunge deep into her core.

She moved her hips forward and back to add to the friction. Both leaned forward, eager to bring as much of themselves as close to the other as possible. Each rested their chin on their partner's left shoulder.

Each could hear the loving sounds escaping the other's mouths. Marceline moaned loudly, her throat humming and tickling Finn's ear. His groans were more suppressed, throaty and low.

Whenever Marceline brought herself and forced her way back down, Finn's hips would thrust up to meet hers. His body moved of its own accord, programmed by the primitive urges that drove all humans; the knowledge held deep in every man and woman's core.

They writhed together in synchronicity, minds melding as much as bodies in their singular purpose. Occasionally they would turn their head long enough to meet for a kiss before the sensations overwhelmed them, and one or the other's head would jerk back.

Time became a meaningless concept, neither could have said how long they were locked together like that. But eventually Finn felt something welling up within him. Despite all the pleasure he had felt at the hands of his Mistress, this still managed to stand out. He wasn't aware what it meant, but he could tell it would result in some manner of climax.

He didn't say anything, but Marceline could feel him tensing. She was aware of the signs that pointed to a man's imminent release; if he could just give her a little more time. Their pace had been rapidly building until they were frantically jolting against one another.

Finally Finn groaned out one last time as he released. Marceline could feel the warm seed spilled inside her, sending her over the edge into her own climax. By reflex, she bit into Finn's shoulder to muffle herself.

The intrusion into his flesh sent a whole conflicting wave of sensation through him. The familiar feel of this old comfort amplified his feelings, nearly overloading his nervous system. He screamed, his only way to cope with these overbearing sensations. Lights seemed to flash behind both of their eyes, until suddenly it was over in an instant.

Marceline slowly withdrew her fangs from Finn, whose puncture wounds did not heal, as this was no feeding; Marceline hadn't actually taken any blood from him. They sat there, still huddled together, heads resting on the other's shoulder, for some time as the lingering feelings and muscle spasms gradually faded away.

Eventually, all that was left was a sort of warm afterglow; and in Finn's case, a lingering soreness where he had been bitten. Still, they sat there, intertwined, simply holding onto each other as if they would drift away if they let go. They stayed like that for quite a while, in silence save for the heavy breathing.

Eventually exhaustion would take its toll, and Finn slowly fell back on the bed, taking Marceline with him. "I love you, Finn." Said Marceline, quietly yet filled with emotion. She couldn't remember the last time she felt like this; completely fulfilled. She had Finn, owned all that he was; name, body, mind, and soul.

Finn himself shared similar feelings. Everything he had felt for his Mistress, which for so long he'd been unable to define, had finally been given a name as well as physical act to define it. He couldn't say with certainty that he fully comprehended everything quite accurately. But he was sure of one thing; he was happy, pure and simple. He gave his simple response, "And I love you, Mistress."

Nothing more needed be said between the two. Everything had been laid bare between them tonight. Now there was nothing left to do but lay together, and bask in the aftermath of their newly defined love.