She knew he was attracted to her. She didn't know that she was attracted to him, not until his hands crawled further and further up her knees, calloused thumbs eventually rubbing circles between her thighs when his mouth met hers. He was so gentle. He could have just run right over her, taken what he wanted, kept her healthy enough to fuck and little more else.

He didn't do that. He pulled away even, and seemed to be waiting for her to give him some kind of signal. Lydia didn't know what to do. She knew she could reject him and it would be okay‒ probably‒ but her hands were on his shoulders, grabbing, pulling him closer, and it didn't look like she was going to do that.

Trembling, breaths quick, she put her lips back on his, lashes fluttering against his cheek as she made the initiative to make contact.

"I don't have a lot of experience," she admitted before they could get any more entangled, avoiding his gaze while confessing. They liked to advertise that she was a virgin, but that didn't mean others hadn't touched her, used her before she could slaughter them.

"I don't‒" a shy pink hue took her cheeks. "I don't know what I'm doing."

When she pulled him closer he slipped between her thighs, cool hands slipping down around the swell of her ass. Leaning into her, he returned her kiss with a little more energy before she pulled back from him. His face fell to the bend of her neck to breathe in her scent and absorb the warmth from her skin.

"I don't have a lot of experience."

Betelgeuse kissed at her neck softly once before nipping at the skin and pulling back to look her in the face, noting the way she avoided his gaze. Carefully, he urged her back against the covers and crawled up along her body. Once she was fully down, just as tense as before, he reached to hook her legs over his hips.

"What kind of experience do you have?" His cool breath danced across her warm neck. He could find out what she knew and move on from there. The hand on the swell of her ass kneaded softly as he kissed along her throat.

Her pulse quickened as he led her up the bed, careful and mindful in all his motions, pulling soft breathy sounds up the throat he peppered with kisses. Then, he asked about her previous experience. She turned rigid, yet gripped tighter, seeking comfort from her place beneath him.

"Most of them touched me. Not all… but most."

She was often deemed too skinny or sickly for bedding. None had the patience he did to treat her as well, or for her temper. There was still the chance he might change on her, turn cold and cruel. For now, he was just as warm as her.

"... a few made me take them in my mouth."

Thinking of it, remembering it tarnished what they were doing now. But, he asked, and lying was at the top of his list of not-to-do's.

"But they're gone now, and I'm still here."

There was less threat in this declaration than any of the previous ones. Ever so slowly, the tension was leaving her body, the longer he held her and massaged long-abused muscles.

The way she phrased that… them… that's how she always spoke about her previous masters. Fuck, shit, cock. Here he was thinking she had a few innocent experiences with living boys due to her age and what was said about her on the block but… thirty-some exorcisms… Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

"Lyds… we… th-thank you fer telling the truth."

Betelgeuse lifted up, bracing his weight above her. Her face had gone to the pleasant blank expression she always had when she talked about them.

He didn't want that look on her face, not now, not when they were wrapped up in each other's embrace in his bed. He leaned down to press another soft kiss to her mouth, tongue seeking entrance, and once she granted it, crawled inside her warmth.

She deserved something good and positive after all the shit she had seen and experienced in her short run of years. He was both surprised and pleased that she was trusting him to not be like those who came before.

Lydia didn't really want to lie to him. Nothing he had done yet had been against her best interest. It only made sense to give him the ugly, unfiltered truth, so when he stuttered out an earnest "thank you" for the information, she just swallowed and nodded.

"Mmhmm."

He was lowering his weight then, and kissing her again, and then she couldn't remember what they were talking about before. He was a big guy but strong and self-aware, keeping himself braced just high enough so that she felt cozily tucked in rather than caged and trapped. Warm, delicate fingers mapped out the shape of his shoulders, chest, and biceps while their tongues tangled.

Her legs remembered they were wrapped around his waist and used that leverage to squeeze and pull him closer, snuggle him against her more fully. She wasn't wearing any underwear beneath the long nightgown he picked for her, so their writhing and rocking against each other eventually pulled her skirt up to pool around her waist, leaving her revealed from the hips down, bare and pressing wet against his trousers.

Groaning against her mouth, he could feel her dampness on his slacks and left another nip on her full lower lip. Soft damp kisses were pressed to her neck and chest.

When he reached her breasts, he took a moment to properly worship at the altar of her body. Her nightgown was pulled higher so he could reach her soft pink peaks. Once he had her making soft sounds and both of her tits were flushed and glossy from his ministrations, he moved on.

Licking and nipping his way across her still too thin for comfort stomach, he made his way south, hands gone back to caress her thighs.

Little breathy whimpers filled the master suite as he went to work on her like a pro, entirely dedicated to her pleasure. Lydia was floating outside herself, barely able to fathom the sensations he was producing.

"Oh… oh! Betelgeuse!"

It was the first time she had ever said his name, and it came when his tongue first met the heated area between her legs. It slipped to wiggle between her labia and against her clit before drawing back entirely so he could press a soft kiss across the area with his whole open mouth. She damn near screamed, little thighs quaking in his immovable grip as her upper body shot up in surprise, gripping onto his wiry hair with both fists.

"What‒ what are you doing?!"

Fuck she tasted good. He took his time, almost lazily licking her clean of her own dampness. When she buried her hot little fingers in his hair and demanded 'what are you doing?!' Betelgeuse gave her a low growling chuckle. His lips still against her, he spoke, licking long slow strokes between words.

"Just… relax… Kitten…" Pulling back to look up at her, eyes geaming, a teasing roll of electric energy prickled along her flesh. "As pretty as it sounds from yer mouth… don't say m'name."

Betelgeuse let go of one of her thighs and ran the hand up caressing along her ribcage in gentle soothing strokes. He returned to tonguing her folds and giving her soft nips. With a mental flick, he shifted them on the bed, making sure she was supported by the pillows. He stretched out below her, hands curling around her hips, directing her thighs over his shoulders, mouth sealing over her clit.

Before he was done with her she was going to be a writhing moaning mess. If she kept asking questions it was going to take longer, but he didn't mind if this job ran long.

Don't say his name? Was that a rule? Lydia had heard it warned before but didn't quite know why. If he was already with her, it wasn't as though she could call him to her side. Unless… the rules were different for mortals. Why wouldn't they be? They were everywhere else.

The world around her blinked while his tongue surged against her. In the echoes of the resounding shriek she let loose for him, she discovered her torso nested in the mound of pillows at the head of his bed, the cloud-like stuffing providing support for her still-aching body while he used his mouth to make her forget all about it.

"Bee…" She called, unable to help herself but trailing off with a frustrated little purr and buck of her hips in realization she couldn't call him the name her brain had thus far associated with him. So instead, she deferred to the second-most natural title she kept for him, the one other dead men had to beat out of her if they wanted to hear it.

"Master!"

That was enough. It was so filthy, so wrong, but it's where her twisted, fucked up head went before shattering to pieces. Desperate mewls poured past her lips while she clutched at the pillows, arching bodily off the mattress.

God, she was so warm and fragrant. He lost himself in the sound of her cries and the taste of her. As her body started to twitch, Betelgeuse pressed his tongue inside her, slowly and carefully. He had no interest in deflowering her or causing pain.

When her hips started to move a low vibrating growl crawled up from his throat. Her little thighs squeezing at him he pressed against her, his tongue rolling inside her before he found her sweet spot.

She was pulsing and squeezing around his tongue as she called him 'Master'. He pulled her through the waves of her orgasm. Once her body started to relax, he licked along her one more time and pressed soft kisses and nips to the inside of her thigh before crawling back up her body. Cool lips pressing a heavy kiss to her mouth, careful to not put weight on her.

His weight sunk heavily into the pillows on either side of her, making her dip with them as his mouth descended, lips plying hers gentle but insistent. Once she came back to reality, Lydia was horrified by what she called him in the heat of the moment. There must have been something horribly wrong with her to call him such a thing, something she never would in any other circumstance.

And what it did to her?

Unfair. Paired with the exquisite things he was doing with his mouth, the sound of that disgusting title for him on her own tongue, thinking of him in such a way sent her over the edge, gave her the elusive "orgasm" she had heard so much about.

"I didn't mean to say that," she defended herself as soon as she had breath to, anticipating a possible change in behavior from him. God, this was so stupid. It shouldn't have been so easy for her to fall into bed with him. Nevertheless, there she was, and from the way her deceitful body was gripping him back, she gathered she wasn't leaving anytime soon.

He was laughing. He couldn't help himself. 'Master' wasn't a title he ever really wanted or associated with himself. His face dropped to her shoulder as the laughter took him and he finally had to roll off of her gracelessly. The lusty way she moaned that word mixed with her immediate redaction was just too much.

"Well, Kitten… if ya gotta call me somethin' in bed. That works 'bout as well as anythin' I could think of."

He was still laughing but the fit calmed fast but at the sight of her horrified and angry little face, it started up back up again.

"I mean… that's not my preferred title, normally…" Swinging his legs off the bed, he shed his slacks with a hitched breath and a soft groan before returning to her side, most of his humor gone, now replaced with a lopsided grin and his eyes lit with mischief and lust. "...but you can call me anythin' long as it ain't the 'B' word."

Covering her body with his again, he pressed another lingering kiss to her mouth.

Somewhere between coming on his tongue and him losing his pants, she lost her nightgown, left only in the satiny robe that went with it. It must have been magicked away while she wasn't looking. Before she could recognize he was up for another round, or still rolling in from the first one, he was on top of her again, kissing her dizzy.

His tongue was long and liked the feel of her mouth, nesting delicately around her own pink mortal tongue and behind her teeth, careful not to choke her. Without thinking about it, moving on instinct, her legs were wrapped around him again, arms snaked around his neck. When he moved his attention down her throat and around her collar, she thought she felt sharp pin pricks where he once had blunt teeth like hers, but was too lost in sensation to stop and ask to look.

A frigid thought interrupted their fun time, making her freeze beneath him, intensely self-aware of everything she was doing, everything he was doing.

"I'm not a bed slave."

What he said next had the impact to change the course of the evening and their relationship as a whole.

Betelgeuse softly sucked at the bite mark on her neck, the coppery taste of blood pulling lusty hunger noises from him.

"I'm not a bed slave."

With a grunt he pressed up, bracing himself on his arms above her. Not bothering to wipe the smear of blood from his mouth.

"I know that… I wasn't plannin' on treatin' ya like one, Sweetheart …" He gave her a soft smile, made lurid by the blood still clinging to his teeth, then leaned down to press another soft kiss to her lips.

"Ya just taste n' feel so good."

The end of the sentence dropped into a growl as he nuzzled at her neck again, and shifted so his throbbing length wasn't pressed against her any more. This was so fucking ridiculous. He didn't care if she was a "bed slave" or not, he just wanted her. The longer she was around the more he craved interacting with her, she was like a drug. Deals. She was willing to make deals in the past.

"How about we make a deal, babe?"

The sight of blood was alarming, as Lydia didn't remember being cut deeply enough to bleed and yet there it was, wet on his mouth and then hers. He promised he wasn't going to change how he treated her, then kissed her soft, reintroducing his slippery tongue to her mouth.

This was nice, probably the nicest she had ever felt. The way his chest rumbled when he got worked up, his stubble passing over the sensitive flesh on her throat, made her boil up inside, heartbeat thrumming loud beneath him.

"How about we make a deal, babe?"

A deal? She blinked up, biting her lip, unsure. This was all uncharted territory for her but he hadn't done her wrong yet. With more trust than he probably deserved, eager to keep feeling as good as she knew he could make her feel, she nodded her consent, curious amber eyes unwavering on him.

"... what kind of deal?"

"Quid pro quo...ya don't do nothin' ya don't wanna, but if we do one thing…"

He was bracing himself above her again so he could see her face as he spoke. It was fucking criminal how lovely she was. The scent of her arousal and the newer fresher scent of fear was making it hard for him to concentrate.

"Tit fer tat…" The bite on her neck was still weeping. Slowly he lowered himself to where he could lick at the drops as they formed.

"No one gets used… no one's a slave… not in this bed."

That sounded awfully fair. His icy tongue lathed away the delayed blooms of pain from where he bit her neck while she wasn't paying attention, and she whimpered at the feel of it.

"I think…" A smooth rod of flesh she knew to be his manhood brushed against her inner thigh. She swallowed. "... that sounds okay…"

If she didn't want to do something, she could just say so and everything would stop. At least, that's how she understood what he was saying. Lydia was suspicious.

"You promise you'll stop if I say so?"

He muffled a groan against her skin when she said it sounded 'okay'. Betelgeuse let his mouth latch over the wound again drawing what he could from it before the blood stopped, hips ever grinding against her, seeking friction.

"I promise." Focus. Focus on what she's saying and how to answer. He shifted again, putting space between them. "Cross m'heart, Lydia. You say stop, I will."

The heat from her body was distracting him again, the soft very human movements her body kept making. Little muscle twitches she didn't even notice, and he was slowly losing the parts of him that thought like her and made him seem human. He was slipping into a creature of needs and wants. With a low growl, he caught her soft lips with his.

He was changing before her, pupils slitting and teeth elongating. Her gasp of surprise was swallowed when he took her mouth in a more ferocious kiss than all the others. More force was used than before, more of his long tongue making itself at home down her throat, longer, sharper claws squeezing at her exposed tits.

"Master…"

That was an okay thing to call him. He said so. It made the most sense in the young mortal's lust-riddled mind. Delicate, pale fingers tangled in his hair as he suckled more at the dark purple discoloration on her throat, no more blood leaking from it.

"You made me feel better than I've ever felt…"

It was humbling for her to admit such a thing to someone like him, big eyes lidded coyly up at him.

"I want to make you feel good, too. Tit for tat."

He could hurt her. That might be what made him feel good. Lydia shuddered just so at the possibility, but braved onward anyway, not breaking eye contact while offering up her services.

She called him 'Master' again in those sweet tones, her voice lulling him back from the edge and causing him to shiver against her. Groaning against the soft slick skin of her, he nipped at the underside of her jaw. He wanted to keep making her feel that good. he pulled back from the mark he was leaving on her neck to nip at the tip of her nose.

"I'm glad ya enjoyed it, Kitten…"

"I want to make you feel good, too. Tit for tat."

Betelgeuse focused on her face, making sure she was being honest. He didn't want to press forward with her unsure in any way but her honey eyes had that oh so seriousness to them when she was relaying facts. A grin crawled across his mouth, at odds with how his humanity had started to slip.

Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, he slid back between her legs, clawed hands slipping down to hitch her thighs up around his hips. Allowing more of his weight to rest on her lower, his length slipped along her core. The small amount of contact that allowed them to touch had him shuddering against her, his face again buried against her neck and shoulder. His hips started to rock against her, sliding his pulsating cock along her warm damp folds. As badly as he wanted to, he didn't want her fist experiences of that to be with this monstrous version of himself. Not to mention, he didn't think he could trust himself currently to not do something horrible.

His weight pushed her deeper into the pillows and they protected her beautifully. When he lined the fat length of his manhood up along her nethers, she swallowed a frightened cry of protest‒ until his hips moved, friction drawing the smooth flesh of him slow and heavy along the sensitive bundle of nerves above her entrance.

"Mmmf," she whined, red-faced, holding onto his biceps tight when he sped up, bracing an elbow in the pillow above her to free up momentum for his hips so swing. She was dripping for him, no lack of lubricant for his cock to glide easily between her velvety labia. Lydia came before he did, tensing up, nails dragging down his back and jaw wide open in a silent scream muffled into his chest.

"Master," she mewled again with the change of his tempo. It was slow and intense while she was coming, but now he was speeding up again, pushing up straight to watch as his forceful motions made her cherry-suckled tits bounce. The overstimulation made her bite her lip and whine, thighs tightening around his hips. His solution was to growl and free one of his monstrous palms to open her up, push her thigh down into the mound of pillows beside her‒ realizing in that moment how flexible she was when he did.

A fine sheen of sweat-coated snowy flesh all over, lips, cheeks, and nipples glowing like a dewy rose in her exertion. His expression was ferocious in comparison to her lidded, open-mouthed euphoria. Lydia had never seen a gaze so savage, his tongue forked now as it hung from his mouth and over a row of razor sharp teeth.

Strangely, it didn't scare her. She wanted more. She wanted it harder. She wanted‒

"Again‒" she gasped, tension leaving her thighs as he pantomimed rutting her with increasing intensity, "‒ Master, make me cum again!"

If he held her to this tit for tat deal, they would be up all night.