Well, I sacrificed my sleep last night to get this chapter to a place where I could be mostly satisfied with it. Is it perfect? No… but I'm not sure there is much else I could do to this chapter that I haven't already done. I've literally hacked it to pieces so many times now, I've lost count. I have tried to make this as tasteful as possible, while simultaneously taking the scene itself to a completely different level from what we had in chapter 31. You'll have to let me know if I did my job well or if I missed the mark entirely. Admittedly, I am extremely nervous. I don't know why I keep trying to balance completely different emotions and tones in the same setting. My muse is a freaking sadist. ;)
DISCLAIMER: If you wish to avoid reading scenes with heavy sexual content, feel free to skip this one. But remember, this story is rated "M" for a reason. Proceed at your own risk. You have been warned.
A huge thanks goes out to my beta, Sleepy Bibliophile, who originally helped in this editing endeavor; whereas another thank you is owed to RegnecyPoet, who helped me to fine-tune a few things. Hopefully all the hard work paid off.
Many thanks to Madam Silver, LostarielTuigalen, alexc1209, She-Devil Red, Scarlet Empress, Countess, violetrose18, BornRose2, the invisible reader, bloodyrose2014, Bloodsired, RegencyPoet, Kiriari, ForsakenStar22, CosmopolitanCountess, Kiki's Stories of Awesomeness, ForeverACharmedOne, DreamBubbles, ShadowSpade, 2345678910, and Nyx-Arae for reviewing yesterday. Seriously you guys… you are the reason why I continue to sacrifice my free-time and my sleep (which is sacred to me) to get these chapters update-worthy in a timely fashion so I can continue to stick to this insane posting schedule I've given myself. If you keep up with the feedback like you have been, I swear to continue with my rapid-fire updates.
Hope you guys enjoy the chapter. A lot of you saw this coming, but I have to admit – it's totally entertaining to watch my newbies making wild guesses and predictions while my veterans sit huddled together in a corner, bracing themselves for what is to come. But enough of my evil foreshadowing. Enjoy the chapter and don't forget to review!
XLV
To Lose Control
"What do you think of this one?" Emma inquired after she completed lacing up the bodice. She then took a step back, allowing Hera to look into the full body mirror.
Her smiles seemed to be getting wider with each dress she tried on.
The gown she had on now – after trying on at least two dozen already – was a stunningly fitted dark plum number, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a tasteful neckline.
The housekeeper offered an approving smile.
"I think we have a winner," Jane commented. The human turned her head, her warm eyes bright and lively.
"Nearly two hours later! At last!" and Hera smoothed her palms over her stomach to her waist.
"I love how the purple brings out the red in your hair," Emma added.
"It is very beautiful," Jane agreed with a nod.
Hera turned to gaze at herself in the mirror once more, never having been so pleased with her appearance in all her life. She noted the tad bit of weight she had lost over the last year, how her once very soft stomach seemed a little flatter now. She wasn't sure if it was her body or the dress, but she felt beautiful.
Oh, if only this feeling could last forever.
"Would you like to retry any of the other dresses or have you made your choice?" the servant asked.
"This one, definitely," Hera said, earning an approving nod from Emma.
"Very well then," was Jane's reply as she continued to pick up the various articles of clothing that littered the room. "Emma, help Miss Garret get out of that dress."
"Yes ma'am," and Emma began to unlace the gown as Hera continued to admire herself in the mirror.
"Do you think he'll approve?" the human inquired absentmindedly.
"Who my dear?"
"The Count, of course."
Jane and Emma made eye contact for a brief instant, but quickly hid their looks of trepidation as they continued with their work.
"I'm sure the master will love it," Jane replied.
"He'd have to be mad not to," Emma added, earning a few chuckles.
"Yes. Although I wouldn't call our employer mad, Emma," Jane chastised, "you are right. He will be thoroughly pleased with your choice, my dear," and she watched as Emma helped Hera out of the dress, the human wrapping her bare arms around her front in response to the chill of the room, as both servants had insisted on leaving the windows open.
"I hope so," the woman said, watching as the dress skirt pooled at her feet, leaving her in little more than her knickers. She shivered when a sudden breeze blew through the chamber. "Although we are left with one more problem," she added.
"And what is that?" Jane wondered.
"What are we going to do with my hair?" Hera asked, her arms still wrapped around her body and she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "Obviously I'll have to wear it up – though I'm not quite sure how."
"Maybe if we take this and pin it here, and then add some curls here," and Emma began to play with the mortal's hair, the two women discussing style options as Jane continued to clean. "Yes, I think that would work nicely," the maid concluded after some deliberation. "You could wear black diamonds, or amethysts, maybe a small tiara – the colors would work really well with your hair."
"I'll take your word for it," Hera said with a smile. "I'm so new at all of this – I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am for all your help."
"Don't worry – once we have you looking the part, nothing else will matter," Emma insisted. "I don't see the master leaving your side for the whole of the evening. He'd probably be afraid of someone trying to steal you from him."
The mortal laughed.
"He better. It's going to be odd enough, being the only human in a party of vampires."
"You may not be the only human present, Miss Garret," Jane interjected as Emma brushed Hera's hair. "There are one or two of the Count's inner circle who have taken on mortal companions in the past, and we've always accommodated them."
"I didn't realize affairs with humans were a regular thing."
"It's not – but it does happen. It's far less controversial than it used to be, that's for certain."
"What are they like? The Count's friends?"
"They're a collection of eclectic personalities," Jane explained tactfully. "No doubt before the ball, the master will give you a list of people who are safe to converse with and a list of those whom you should avoid."
"Like the baron," Emma agreed.
"Or the judge," Jane added.
"They sound rather ominous," Hera replied, now seated on the chaise closest to the fire as she watched the two servants finish tidying up the room.
"Once the master properly declares you, they'll keep to themselves, though from one woman to another, I'd keep my distance all the same."
"Especially since they've already heard about you."
"Heard about me? You mean the Count has talked about me before? As in to other people?"
"Of course he has!" Emma exclaimed. "After your stay with us, the master had been called on rather unexpectedly by a few of his inner circle and they could smell you all over him."
Hera blushed madly.
"Was it really that obvious?" she asked timidly, trying to hide the grin on her face.
"The entire house was in uproar," Emma said with a laugh. "Or at least, the mistresses were. Aleera took it the worst, however. I've never heard such nasty insults come from that woman's mouth, ever."
"Yes, well, I'm not a huge fan of her either," the human grumbled.
"As I was saying, several of the master's friends spent the next few days with him and I remember overhearing them talking about you," Emma explained, an almost impish look in her eyes.
"What did he say?"
"Emma, no gossiping," Jane warned.
"But it's not gossiping if it's about her," the maid insisted.
"You know better than to eavesdrop when the master has company. What was said was not meant for your ears."
"What did he say, Emma?" Hera repeated.
"It's not necessarily what he said, but rather what he didn't say," the vampire replied mischievously with a wink.
Hera covered her mouth in shock.
"You mean…"
"Emma, that is enough out of you," Jane asserted, trying to hide her amused smile as she pointed her finger at the girl in a futile effort to keep her silent. Emma's wicked grin informed both women that nothing they did would keep her quiet on the subject.
"Let's just say that his approval of you is profound, though it's remained mostly unspoken. But now the whole of his social circle has been aflame with the rumors and the assumptions and from what I've heard, everyone who is anyone is dying to catch a glimpse of the mortal woman who rendered the great Count Dracula speechless. We're expecting a particularly large turnout this weekend – all because of you."
Hera's eyes widened at this revelation.
"Really?"
Both servants nodded in confirmation.
"I don't know if I should be flattered or mortified right now."
"I'd try not to think about it too much, Miss Garret," Jane offered sympathetically with a disapproving look in Emma's direction. "Just know that the master cares very much for you. In the end, that's all that matters."
"True, but I don't know if I can show my face in public now that every single vampire in the Count's acquaintance knows about our sex life – even if he said nothing. I can only imagine what they're assuming."
"I heard a rumor on our way over last night that some of his old lovers are calling you the siren."
"Oh Lord," and Hera covered her face with her hand. "That's it. I can't go to the ball this weekend."
"I'm afraid it's a bit late for that," Jane chuckled, standing in front of her. "It's the curse of being with the master, or any man of consequence. They may try their best to be discrete, but nothing stays secret for long. Especially where Count Dracula is concerned. But, at least you may know one thing for certain – you are not another conquest to him, my dear," and her tone suddenly became serious. "He loves you, Miss Garret. Even I can attest to that. I've known the master for centuries and I've seen him in love – to varying degrees, anyway. But never before have I ever seen him quite like this. What he feels for you is powerful and real. You should feel privileged to have the love and respect of that man. And I pray you will never give him reason to regret you."
Hera smiled.
"I am not Ilona, Jane. You have nothing to worry about on that front."
"I know, child," the housekeeper said affectionately, taking the mortal's chin in her hand. "You're a good woman, Miss Garret – strong of will, but gentle, patient, and forgiving – which is exactly what he needs."
A comfortable silence lingered between the women for a few moments before Jane clapped her hands together and said,
"Now then, why don't you get dressed while we finish up?" and the servant offered Hera a robe before ushering her over to the changing screen as she draped the mortal's clothes on a chair.
As the two servants finished putting away the rest of the dresses, Emma broke the silence.
"So, you've heard what the master thinks of you. What about you?"
Hera laughed behind the curtain after pulling on her robe, in no hurry to dress. She then sat down behind the screen to remove the stockings from her legs, never hearing the door to her bedroom open, nor the small gasp that escaped the maid's lips at the sight of the individual who had suddenly entered in from the hall.
"I think Count Dracula is amazing," Hera began, pulling the garter down her leg slowly, lost in reminiscence, hardly aware that the Count had just crossed over the threshold.
Jane's eyes were wide in shock at the sight of her master, his very gaze making the housekeeper shudder.
My lord, what are you doing here? she asked him through her mind.
Dracula never verbally uttered a word of reply, but the darkness of his expression told her everything.
Leave us, he commanded.
Emma knew better than to disobey an order and she retreated without a single protest, but Jane put up more of a fight, understanding the consequences of what would happen if she left Hera to the mercy of the Count – especially in his current state.
Master, you must leave immediately! she pleaded. You have barely a half-hour more to wait and then it is done. You are so close, my lord. Please, don't do this to Miss Garret. You love her. I know you don't want to…
I said get out, he repeated, several lights in the room extinguishing, the temperature in the bedchamber dropping a degree or two as his anger and desperation hitched, the color of his usually brilliant blue eyes darkening considerably.
But my lord… Jane went to protest.
Now, he growled into her mind, the overpowering scent of Hera's flesh tempting him into insanity.
No one would deny the demon what it wanted.
Hera was his… and he'd have her now.
Jane nodded reluctantly, bowing her head to him, submission in her stance, but her eyes were still filled with beseeching.
Hera remained oblivious, chatting to herself now, since now no one was listening.
"I love him, Emma," she continued to explain as she leaned back in the plush chair, her robe, which she had loosely tied shut, slipping open and off her shoulders a little. "He's so…I don't even know how to explain it."
Jane took one last woeful glance at the screen behind which Hera stood before exiting from the room in dutiful silence, sealing the two in behind her. Dracula soundlessly locked the door after the housekeeper's exit before turning his attention to the dressing curtain where Hera's voice was coming from.
With the bending of his will, the windows began to close of their own volition, one at a time as several of the candles on the far side of the room were snuffed out as the Count's shadow slinked ominously across the wall.
"There's something about him that draws me in every time, something I can't quite put my finger on," the human went on, remaining unaware that the Count was now her only audience as the two female servants were long gone.
Dracula draped his cloak over the chaise by the fire before removing his boots silently, willing the mirror to turn just slightly so he could see Hera behind the screen. The vision she presented only aggravated his already dangerous appetite.
"I remember the first time I met him," she recalled aloud. "Despite the fact that I was petrified beyond belief, I still felt strangely connected to him. One look and I was lost. I sometimes think it was that darkness of his. I remember it being so…" She paused, searching for the right word as she stood up from the chair behind the screen, seemingly oblivious of the Count who was now leaning forward in his seat by the fire. "…so enticing," she continued. "He has this devastating sexual appeal to him. I mean, all I have to do is look at him, and I get so… so achy."
He watched as she leaned against the wall, one foot on the seat of the chair as the robe she was donning slid to her elbows, her hand smoothing over a thigh as her eyes fluttered while her other hand played over the laces on the front of her corset – each movement slow and deliberate, as if she knew he was watching.
What he didn't know what that she was indeed aware of his presence.
Jane's silence had been one thing, but her suspicions had been confirmed when she noticed the altered angle of the mirror and the sudden reemergence of that peculiar scent – his heat – that had entered the room just after the housekeeper and maid had fallen silent. It was now saturating every fiber of her being, and little did she know that with every inhalation came a muting of reason as all sense and rational thought were gradually pushed back into the remote corners of her mind, making room for the onslaught of irrational lust that now hijacked her brain.
"I want him so bad, it hurts sometimes," she whimpered, staring at the screen, fully aware that on the other side her lover resided, his eyes undoubtedly attentive, ears hanging on to her every utterance.
"When he's around me… I feel… I feel…" Dracula watched through the mirror as the hand on her leg ran up from her knee to her inner thigh – slowly, leisurely, torturously – "… I get hot," she crooned. "All over… especially here," and he watched as her hand slipped between her legs.
The vampire blew out a lungful of air as quietly as he could, staring with widened eyes as her fingers lightly caressed against the lace of her panties, eyes closing in pleasure as a light, heady hum vibrated behind those lips of hers.
Dracula was no stranger to the sometimes brazenly sexual behavior of the gentler sex, but never had it affected him in the way it did when he watched Hera do it. He had to touch her, had to get inside of her. The curse demanded it, and even the somewhat rational man inside of him did as well.
With three large strides, he crossed the room and pulled the dressing curtain away, staring down at Hera who was still leaning against the wall, that glorious fire in her eyes. He didn't know if it was in response to the scent of his heat or in response to him, but whatever it was, he had never seen that look on her face before and a shuddering breath escaped him.
She looked positively ravenous.
"I thought you were busy this evening," the young woman said innocently, her voice a bit huskier than intended, hands still smoothed over her exposed thighs as if she knew that he wanted to touch her.
"I… I was…" he stumbled, eyes helplessly drawn to her bare legs.
The Count had never seen them in the light before. They weren't long, but they were strong, smooth - just as they should be; with milky thighs that were made for cheeks to graze. He wanted to be between them more than anything in the world, but he couldn't seem to move. He just kept staring, paralyzed as his eyes moved lazily over her body in repeated sweeps, the lights in the room dimming dramatically as his brain drowned in desire. The pale beauty of her skin in the dimming light had hypnotized him; never had she looked so stunning, so sensual before.
"I missed you," Hera breathed. "I wanted to come see you, but Jane said that you requested to be left alone."
"Yes," he whispered, his voice nearly inaudible. "I had said that, but I… I can't seem to remember why."
Hera smiled, completely oblivious to the true danger of the situation as she caressed his face gently while moving past him. Electricity shot from her fingertips and into his skin when the pads of her fingers grazed his cleanly shaven cheek and a delightful shudder rippled down his spine and straight between his legs.
He wouldn't be able to keep himself sane for much longer.
"I wanted to thank you for the dresses," she mentioned. "They're utterly gorgeous. Jane said they cost a fortune."
"Did you…" Dracula shook his head slightly, trying to formulate a comprehensible sentence that didn't involve the words sex, naked, or fuck, "did you find something you liked?"
"Yes, I did," the young woman replied, opening the wardrobe and pulling out the black and plum gown she had tried on earlier, showing it to him. "What do you think? I really liked this one. Jane did too."
"It needs to be in red," the vampire rasped, hands itching to tear that robe and her underthings from her body. Too many clothes. She's wearing too many clothes, his brain shouted.
"Why red?" she inquired, looking down at the dress, wonderfully oblivious. "I like the purple color."
"I want red on you," he said impatiently and in hushed tones. "Nothing but black and red and the color of your flesh…" and he reached out for her. He could already feel the warmth of her skin radiating off of her like the heat of a noonday sun.
"I still like the purple," she insisted after putting the dress away, but before she even knew what was happening, he had savagely grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, his stiff genitals now pressed against her backside. Hera gasped in surprise at the state he was in.
"I want you naked," he growled softly in her ear, and at the words, he felt the young woman's body break out in fever at the suggestion. His large hands moved up the length of her torso before masterful fingers made effortless quick work of the laces of her corset. "I need you naked, Hera," he purred, the sound vibrating in his chest as his hands languidly slid the garment and the robe off her body in a single push.
His large hands then smoothed over the length of her abdomen from underneath the silk chemise she had been wearing beneath the stay. The voyage of palm against skin ceased before he could reach her breasts and he lightly caressed the underside of the sensitive skin with his fingers. Hera shivered, leaning against him as that aphrodisiac scent of his heat sent her libido into overdrive.
"I need to be inside of you," he then whispered, fingers now pulling down the straps of her shift before his dull, human teeth sank into her shoulder, forcing a pleasurable whimper from her parted lips. He nibbled and teased the flesh of her neck for a few long moments as she leaned against him, basking in the sound of him sighing her name in supplication, as if a part of him was petitioning for her verbal consent.
With what strength she could muster, Hera forced herself to turn around in his hold so she could face him.
His pupils were large, irises glowing that deep, ethereal blue, though the luminous color was more of a thin ring of light surrounding a cavernous pair of black holes.
Everything about him seemed wanton, erotic… dark. That scent from before now filled her room and it made any suspicions she should have had vanish, her body and even her soul responding to him in ways she had never imagined possible. She was connected to him in some unfathomable, impossible way, just as he was connected to her, and the realization was beautiful and terrifying.
Hera reached up and pushed his jacket off his body, holding his gaze as it fell to the floor behind him. He watched her as she undid the chords and buttons of his vest and silk dress shirt, freeing him of his vest first before finally responding,
"Then inside me you shall be."
He rewarded her submission with a kiss, and then she was in his arms.
Dracula's palm pressed against her lower back, encouraging her to arch against him and the sudden friction felt like heaven.
But that guilt!
No.
No, he had to do this… it was too late to turn back now.
The Count did his best to push the remorse aside and embrace the rationalizations, desperately struggling to convince himself that this was all right, and the justification worked – for the present anyway, and it was enough to bring him to his senses as his mouth softened against her own.
"I need to love you," he whispered, and he made one final mental push, shoving all shame and thought from consciousness. He focused every ounce of his attention utterly on her as one of his hands sank into her hair, pulling her head back as he tilted his forward, and soon he was lost in a long, drugging kiss. Dracula's cool lips danced avidly against her own, suckling sweetly until he could feel the flush in her cheeks.
Hera's arms began to wrap slowly around his neck, fingers itching to get lost in his hair, to rake her nails along his scalp. But his need for control was still running rampant and he snatched her wrists and then held them with one hand, earning a furious noise of protest from the woman who opened her eyes and sent him a nasty look.
Then everything snapped.
Their luxurious passions turned into a fervent power struggle as Hera dove her head forward and bit his lower lip hungrily, almost hard enough to draw blood. It appeared to simultaneously aggravate and arouse the vampire because he began to kiss her back with equal ferocity as he tried to win the battle for control.
The young woman pulled her head back with a wicked grin when he tried to overpower her and then she descended upon him once again, her lips falling over his rough jaw line and biting once before sliding her mouth down the length of his powerful neck. She felt the dry click in his throat beneath her lips as he swallowed hard and her name came out in a ragged gasp as her open-mouthed kisses set fire to his naturally cooler skin.
She was winning… damn it.
In a fit of madness, he abruptly shoved her away from him, watching as she stumbled, trying to find some solid footing, her back ultimately smacking against the wall. Her hands gripped at what they could, trying to stay on her feet, but in the blink of an eye, Dracula was in front of her and then all over her, his hands grabbing her wrists before she could reach out for him. He pinned her roughly to the wall, crushing his lips against hers in a demanding kiss that sent her head back with a thud.
The mortal shivered violently as the vampire forced her lips apart with his mouth before plundering past them, his body pressed against hers with an urgency that thrilled her. Lust, powerful and unreal, burned hot between her thighs as he made love to her mouth with his tongue, then playing over the angle of her chin, gently biting down as his body grinded hard against hers.
The friction made Hera delirious. She shut her eyes tight, trying to suppress a deep moan of disappointment when he stopped kissing her suddenly and his grinding came to a halt. She was about to ask him why he had stopped when her eyes met his, finding that he was just… staring at her, as if he were struggling with himself, as if he didn't know if he wanted to do this.
He appeared starved, yet… uncharacteristically hesitant.
Hera couldn't seem to understand why, but in the back of her mind, she could tell something felt off about him. He felt different. He looked different, darker even. Despite the devilish smirk that continued to play on the corner of his lips, there was a savage hunger in his eyes that she had never seen before and it left her unsure of what to think.
She should have been frightened.
She should have taken the chance to push him away.
But after being distanced for merely a few seconds, Hera couldn't bear the separation between them anymore and with a boldness she didn't know existed in her, she leaned forward and kissed him, pulling him back to her.
As he returned her attentions, he pushed her back against the wall and snatched her hands again when she tried to finish undressing him.
With a slight bend in her knee, Hera lifted her leg and rubbed her lower thigh against the pronounced erection straining within his pants, and the action forced him to release one of her wrists in order to push her leg back down. But the moment he let go her hand flew, reaching for the back of his head and gripping a handful of that silky obsidian and giving his roots a nice, rough tug as she lifted herself up onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist.
Ill-prepared for the unanticipated weight, the vampire stumbled back, nearly tripping over his feet and the rug before the bed caught them in time and both fell to the mattress in a heap. Hera half-expected him to get upset, but Dracula only grabbed her face and persisted in ravaging her mouth, following her lips when she made a move to retreat and get off of him.
Within moments, her back had hit the bed and he moved to perch himself above her. Hera crawled instinctively back when she got the chance to, a mixture of nerves and anticipation and Dracula pursued as if she were some kind of prey. The instant she could go no further, his mouth collided with hers in another kiss.
The woman was stunning in the soft glow of the room, her body shifting and struggling against his, her busy hands finally permitted to finish in removing his shirt. She relished in the coolness of his skin for a moment before helping him out of his trousers which he was all too eager to get out of, both of them silently consenting to temporarily share the control.
As he finished kicking the garment off from around his ankles, Dracula reached behind her and with a slow sweep of fingers caressing up the length of her spine, Hera's back arched beautifully for him. The distance between her back and the bed allowed him to lift the shift she was wearing up and over her head, leaving her utterly exposed from the waist up.
And then he stopped unexpectedly.
It had been several months since they were last so entwined, and now more than ever did Hera Garret appear a goddess to him. Her body was sumptuous and pleasing, with her breasts tight at the tips already, swells of creamy white under pink nipples.
The Count's head descended slowly, strands of black hair hanging in his face and tickling the tender skin as his cool breath fanned the hot flesh of her breasts. His lips gently kissed over one of the mounds, teasing the tip with his tongue and teeth, sequentially causing more of that honey to melt between her thighs.
His hand slipped around to her back, the temperature of the caress sending a shudder down Hera's spine as he encouraged her to arch her back off the mattress, thrusting her breast into his deep kiss – his mouth caressing and suckling between swipes of tongue.
Hera let out a whimper as her legs spread apart and wrapped around his naked waist. She let him do as he pleased for a few minutes longer before using his moment of distraction to roll him off of her, straddling his hips and removing her aching flesh from his mouth with a delirious gleam in her eyes.
Bending forward, she caught his lips with hers once again, forcing him to move slowly, urging him to kiss her deeper than he had before. The vampire started to sit up with the human still on his lap, but in an effort to keep him beneath her, she began to grind slowly against him. The friction of Hera's still clothed groin rubbing against him stole the Count's breath and the woman watched with fascination as he began to perspire just slightly, his eyes glowing, the fangs in his mouth lengthening.
His evident sign of desire lay aching, but proud between Hera's thighs, hard and hot, and she ground into him again, this time harder and with more purpose. He frowned and closed his eyes, emitting a deep groan as he felt the pulsating torment inside him increase.
Temporarily submitting to her will, Dracula claimed her lips in frantic arousal while stroking his palms up her thighs to her hips and then along the length of her back before silently urging her to rub herself harder and faster against him. Another moan escaped her lips as his nose rubbed sensually along the curve of her neck whilst his mouth sucked and teased the tender flesh along her collarbone.
Hera's brow furrowed; molten, swollen desire thumping angrily through her veins as he led her to fall back on the bed, his body perched above hers. His hand created some space between them as he smoothed his large palm over her abdomen. Her stomach had flattened some since he had seen it last, but her hips were still as wide and perfect as ever, as were her sleek legs.
Then there was that juncture below her navel, that sweetest piece – he peeled off her panties and a growl rumbled in his throat when he realized how wet she was.
She was on fire.
The purely primeval sound that came out of him made her visibly shudder.
"You. Are. Mine," he whispered possessively, thinking about all the ways he wanted to take her.
As he straddled her legs, his shaft jutted straight out of his body, heavy and demanding. But before he could lean down to her skin, her hands quickly found his length. She wasn't ready to surrender to him just yet and when she took him in her hand, his whole person trembled, his breath getting caught in his throat.
Watching her touch him, he let himself go for just a moment, curious to see what she would do given the chance and it gave him the opportunity to permit free reign to the purity of his desire, the uncontaminated ecstasy that was brought on by the deepest of love, despite the less-than-admirable circumstances.
When she sat up, he didn't know where she was going and he sent her a concerned expression.
"Hera?"
But then her lips parted and she suddenly took him into her mouth, and Dracula was lost.
He gasped a shuddering breath and then fell back onto his hands, swearing under his breath as an unadulterated moan left him before he could even think of suppressing it. The sensation of her mouth and tongue on his cock sent him reeling, and the fact that it was Hera, his Hera, doing it to him only intensified his pleasure.
It was almost too much and the woman watched as he sank back into the mattress, the sounds coming out of him unlike anything she had ever heard before and they inspired her newfound sense of boldness.
Hera had very little experience in doing this sort of thing and in the back of her mind something nagged at her conscience.
Why was she doing this?
Why was she acting so desperate, so willing, so brash?
She didn't know, but in that moment she didn't care, the intoxicating scent of her lover's heat numbing her brain and muting her conscience. She felt wild, untamed, powerful, and gluttonous.
A pang of guilt started to stab at the Count as his conscience screamed to make her stop before they both lost complete control.
But he couldn't stop.
And neither could she.
They were bound to each other through something so primitive and so basic as animal instincts and it didn't matter that she was a human and he was a vampire.
The only thing that made the situation slightly altered was that he was the one in heat, and she was the one to relieve him.
Even if Hera had possessed the willpower, she wouldn't have been able to stop herself. That darkening scent of his had made its way deep into her system, setting off an irreversible chemical reaction within her body, doing exactly what it was made to do—lure a mortal woman.
The shame within the Count twisted in his stomach as nausea began to creep up on him.
This was wrong.
All of it was just so wrong.
But her tongue running along the underside of his shaft felt so right.
I can't…he kept saying in his mind. Must… stop… this…
But he couldn't.
The pleasure she was creating within him, that dangerous fire they were both playing with sapped what little strength he had and he was knocked flat on his back from the impact of the beast that had hijacked his body.
Hera's own instincts started kicking in as she grew more accustomed to her actions and his reactions. The vampire longed to grab a fist full of that beautiful copper hair, but for fear that he'd hurt her, he instead clutched the linens beneath him as he focused every ounce of his energy on what this woman was doing to him. His vocal responses were uninhibited, filled with a beautiful kind of anguish as his face contorted from the torturous pleasure she was forcing him to endure.
Right before he could go over the edge, he shifted his hips away, removing himself from her mouth, not wanting to release just yet. She sent him a look, her eyes asking what was wrong, but when she saw his expression…
"Come here," he commanded, pulling her up his stomach and chest, rolling her onto her back.
He placed his hand on the column of her neck and sweeping it down the center of her, stopping over her heart. It was beating fast, and he dropped down, pressing his lips to her sternum and then showering her in kisses.
Dracula kissed a path down to her navel where he lingered and licked before moving to her hip, grinning wickedly when he noticed the way her heart began to beat more rapidly. She knew what was coming. To make things a little less predictable, he surprised her, urging Hera onto her stomach and then parting her legs so he could cup her core with his palm. The silky wetness that coated his hand had him shaking as he ran the tip of his nose along her spine, down to her lower back.
Slipping a finger into her, he then raked the tips of his fangs up and along her spine. A powerful shudder shot through Hera's nerves as she moaned, her body curving to meet his teeth. He stopped at her shoulder, nudged her hair out of the way, and growled as he looked at the mark on her neck he had given her months ago.
When she tensed beneath him, he whispered, "I won't hurt you."
"I know."
She was so trusting of him.
She was always an easy target, a dark voice laughed in the back of his mind. So easy to manipulate… to control.
He hated that voice, hated the truths that resided within its cruel mocking.
Hera shifted her hips and clenched her wet heat around his hand, forcing the vampire back into the feral reality. The Count hissed as another wave of lust ripped through him. He began to pant, feeling hotter now than he ever had before in his life.
The dim light of the room felt like rays of sunlight on his skin as he stared at the mortal's sweaty neck, that beautiful purple-blue vein of hers protruding beneath the flesh as if it were begging him to reopen the scars he had left on her from their last encounter.
"I want to feed from you," he said into her ear.
She trembled, but he felt a warm rush where his fingers still penetrated her and he knew the shakes were from pleasure. Her voice was breathless, heady.
"Really?"
"God, yes," he groaned and his mouth closed on the side of her throat. "I would love to taste you in my mouth again."
"Do it, Vlad," she pleaded, her voice husky, thrilling.
An erotic surge pounded through him and his fangs grew fierce. Before either could utter another word, he had sunk his fangs into her flesh, breaking through the skin and tearing against the vein. She let out a soft cry of distress before that cry turned into a long moan when he started to drink. His wet mouth sucked avidly at her throat, taking in mouthfuls of her life-blood.
When he was satiated, he licked the bite marks clean before his healing saliva could close the wounds, and then he rose above her, pulling her hips off the mattress before entering her from behind, sliding in deep. Hera swore beneath him, arching under his invasion as heat roared through the Count in an unforgiving wave. He ran one of his arms between her breasts from behind, holding onto her upper body, and with his hand he twisted her chin around so he could kiss her.
Her breath was hot and desperate in his mouth as he slowly extracted himself from her core. The surge back in made them both groan, she from his intrusion, and he because everything about her felt so damn good. She was so tight around him, her inner muscles contracting slightly, holding onto him and pulling him in farther. That beautiful, addicting friction along his shaft made his eyes glaze over in a sexed-up heat.
He got in a couple more controlled thrusts and then the demon broke loose and his hips took over, moving of their own volition. His body pounded into hers, and he shifted his hands to her waist as he held on. Her chest dropped down to the bed and her face turned to the side so she could breathe, her lips parted, eyes closed.
Dracula eventually planted his fists in the mattress on either side of her shoulders as his movements became more fluid. She seemed so small underneath him, dwarfed by the thickness of his forearms and surging chest but she took all of him, from tip to base, over and over again until he was lost in her. The noises she was making shot his pleasure through the roof, taking him to the very verge of fruition.
Except he didn't want it to end.
He never wanted this to stop.
Count Dracula wanted this time with her to last forever, despite the severe reality of it all—the ugly fact that a part of him was using her again, and she was letting him, trusting him.
He pulled out and turned her over, forcing them to both come back down. As she landed on her back, her legs flopped to the sides as if she didn't have the strength to hold them up. The sight of her open to him, glistening for him, swollen from him, nearly had him spilling all over her thighs.
Dracula dropped his head and kissed her lips hard and long, as if he were apologizing, although Hera would never pick up on that. And the harder he kissed her, the harder she kissed back, until their tongues were dueling and every muscle in him was twitching to mount her again.
Not yet, he told himself. Not yet, you son of a bitch. You wait.
He moved his kisses to her neck, then up to her ear where he nipped at the lobe as he whispered to her in his native tongue, his fingers between her legs, soaked in her sex as he found her pleasure spot with ease. As he fingered her, he coached her slightly, getting her close to the precipice before forcing her to come back down, and then doing it all over again.
The words he uttered made her even hotter, and then he would moan and purr as if her pleasure was his own and soon Hera's whole person was trembling. She was burning alive, helpless to the ministrations of those masterful digits and his filthy whispers.
But then he took it further, his lips moving down until he was kissing where his shameless fingers had been and then he was tasting himself and her, and Hera's world spun in one delirious, feverish haze of ecstasy and sin.
His skill sent her spine curling, and Hera mewled in her gluttony as Dracula soaked in the gorgeous moans and unapologetic begging that left her mouth. With a smile, he kept going, gradually dragging deeper and deeper until he got a full on taste of her, loving how she writhed and then swore in response. And then he latched on and drew her in rhythmically and she was gone. His eyes rolled back in his head as he swallowed her essence. She was like nothing he'd ever pulled down his throat before.
More… the demon needed more.
Hera gripped whatever she could hold onto as her eyes rolled back and he listened as she started to swear, the words she uttered so deliciously filthy, it encouraged him to suck harder. When she said his name, the syllables were moaned unrepentantly as she tumbled over the edge again and again and again beneath his mouth and fingers.
Dracula would have been content in making her come repeatedly just like this, but after a time, something changed in him unexpectedly.
He became aware of a rhythmic pounding in his chest and he stopped his ministrations almost immediately, pulling back when he realized – his heart was beating.
He glanced over at the small clock on Hera's bedside table and realized it was nearly midnight.
He was… he had a…
His demanding sex organ suddenly jutted hard into the open air and an insatiable, nearly painful need to be inside of her devoured him in a lust so powerful, so terrifying, nothing could control him. The beast within couldn't hold itself back any longer – not when it was running out of time. Within a matter of seconds, Dracula had lost complete and utter control over the situation and it would be the most beautiful and mortifying experience of his life.
His eyes prickled with unwanted tears as he moved into position, the guilt he had managed to keep back starting to resurface again.
This was it.
"Hera, forgive me," he muttered inaudibly, and before the human could even comprehend that he had actually stopped his attentions, that he had even spoken, he pounded into her without warning and her eyes shot open wide as she cried out in surprise, being forced to suddenly adjust to his rather abrupt intrusion. He pulled his hips back briefly, only to drive into her again, angled just right so he hit that sweet spot each and every time.
With the Count's assistance, Hera wrapped her arms around the back of her knees as he helped to tip her hips up so he could penetrate more deeply, and when they found a position that suited them both, he held her to him as she took every inch of him without complaint.
He could sense her coursing through his veins, as if the two of them had somehow melded together into a single being and that sensation alone made the hideousness of it all so beautiful.
He was truly one with her – both in body and soul.
The overpowering aroma of their conjoining heat was an intoxicating fume that nearly suffocated the both of them, but Dracula couldn't stop for air.
He couldn't stop for anything.
He just kept driving, harder and faster.
She cried out wildly as she came undone beneath him, and before her pulses faded, he shot up over her and plunged back inside.
Hera called out his name, nails scoring his back and drawing blood. He winced and then let out a euphoric cry before gasping for air and he immediately let himself go over the edge just as the clock on the wall struck the hour of midnight.
With nothing to hold back, he then came over and over again, pumping his warm flow into her. But the orgasm wouldn't stop. It kept going and he rode the waves that overtook him.
The ecstasy seemed to have no end.
Hera held onto her lover as he shuddered once more, his body seizing, breath coming out of him in a rush. He groaned deep in his chest and she felt him jerk and release again inside of her. It was a devastating kind of intimacy: she so calm and still beneath, whereas he was in the throes of some kind of powerful multiple orgasming.
Hera's eyes never left his face as she took in and felt every small thing in his body as well as each heavy thrust. She knew exactly when another release was coming for him; could feel the trembling in his abdomen and thighs; could see the way his brow furrowed and creased in just a certain way. It was happening now, his breath catching as he surged again with his hips.
He lifted his head this time, lips peeling off his fangs, eyes squeezed shut as he reached out with one hand to grip the headboard in front of him, an uncharacteristic string of oaths rushing past his lips in a burst of breath. His body contracted, all his muscles tensing, and then she felt the movement deep inside of her. His eyes opened and they were glazed over, a beautiful flaming azure that burned her flesh.
"Hera… Hera, I..."
Another spasm overtook him and he swore in his native tongue, burying his face into her neck as he let out a guttural sound, a mixture of some sort of apology and a deepening ecstasy. All she could do was smile softly, running her hands up his smooth, sweat-laced back, feeling those thick muscles clutch bone as his lower body drove into her again, his ribs surging as he gasped.
She was saturated and deliciously hot from all the heat pouring off of him. He seemed unusually feverish, alive even, a healthy flush in his cheeks. But she dismissed it, too caught up in what was happening to him to even care.
When he was finally spent, he heaved himself up on his arms, making as though he were going to pull out.
"Where are you going?" she whispered and she wrapped a leg around his hip, not ready for him to leave her just yet.
"I don't want to crush you," he panted, his breath sucked in again on a hiss, his arms starting to quiver as if he had lost all the strength in them.
Hera chuckled sympathetically.
"You're not going to crush me, Vlad," she said with a loving smile, touching his face. His hair was still in a ponytail, although certainly in disarray, some of his hair matted to his face, but to her, he had never looked so beautiful. The young woman urged him to lie down and within moments, he collapsed on top of her.
Hera pulled the clip from his hair, freeing the long strands and gently running her fingers through the liquid obsidian, massaging his scalp with her blunt nails and soaking in the vibrations of his soft, cat-like purrs.
They lingered in the pleasing silence for what felt like a good ten or fifteen minutes, listening to each other breathe as the soft, cool wind from an open window blew through the room, airing out the saturating scent of sex and pheromones as the two love-strewn bodies laid atop the bed, the linens everywhere else but on them.
After what felt like ages, Dracula finally broke the silence.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his chin resting on her sternum as he looked up at her.
Hera's eyes were closed, a pleased smile on her lips. He silently prayed that his own eyes weren't betraying him; that she was indeed too tired to notice how torn he felt.
"I feel utterly relaxed, Vladislaus," she sighed softly. "I don't think I'll be able to move for the next few days."
He laughed as he rolled off of her, crawling up the bed slightly so his face resided beside hers. He moved her mass of hair away from her neck, leaving it to pool above her head on the mattress and then he was caressing her cheek, loving how she leaned into his touch.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked with genuine concern, recalling how unrelenting he had been.
Thankfully, she shook her head "no".
"And how was it?"
Her eyelids peeled back as she turned her head and glanced over at him.
"You just want to hear me say it, don't you?" she teased.
"Of course I do," he mocked. "I want to make sure my spitfire is fully sated."
"You really need to come up with a better pet name for me," she said with a laugh.
"What's wrong with spitfire? That's what you are – deliciously passionate and fierce with your red hair and bad temper," and he nibbled her bottom lip when she rolled over onto her side so she could face him.
She was totally worn out, he could see it in the flush of her cheeks, the strained effort to move and even keep her eyes open. She ran her hand over his abdomen, loving the feel of his chiseled abs rippling beneath her palm.
He was so hard, carved to perfection like some kind of statue. Even his sex was perfect. Her hand ran down to the large, exhausted organ of his that lay flat on his belly, feeling it twitch slightly in response to her touch.
"If you insist," she said with a smile, and her curious hand slid over to the side of his waist as she snuggled close to him. "And you? Are you fully spent, my lord?" she teased.
A playful growl vibrated in his solid chest as he pulled her into his arms.
"I will never be fully sated of you," he purred voraciously into her ear. "If I had my way, we'd do it all over again, only slower."
"I think I'm going to need more practice if I'm to keep up with you," she replied. "My stamina is nothing like yours."
"Normally I'd be in full support of working on your stamina, but I am content with spoiling you," he confessed, nuzzling into the crook of her neck where he had bitten her and he kissed and suckled the bite marks affectionately, his fingers running lazily up and down her spine so she'd press herself against him.
"I don't know why you are so good to me," she murmured before closing her eyes, her fingers tangling in his hair.
Although he was distracting himself by snuggling his face into her neck, Dracula swallowed hard, that nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach creeping up to his throat as the guilt started to make an appearance again. He suddenly held her tightly to him, burying his face into her as he listened to her heart slow to a more steady rhythm as exhaustion overtook her.
"It's because I love you," he whispered into her skin. "More than anything in the world."
"I don't deserve you," Hera said with a sigh and he could feel her drifting off to sleep, but there would be no peaceful, post-coital rest for him.
The guilt would not permit it.
I'm not as wonderful as I appear, he thought pitifully to himself. Oh God, Hera, please forgive me…
