Erotic short. Bound in vines and roots, a young man experiences the talented mouth of a vampire.
Cis M/M, rated E, 600w. Verdance Pike goes down on a mostly willing victim. Blowjobs, magic, bondage, and vampire bites — warning for the implication of mildly dubious consent.
It was very dark in the woods, and Cain was breathing heavily, his shoulders pressed back hard against the bark of the old oak tree, which was rough and cool to the touch under his naked, sweating skin. Two vines of ivy had grown to meet him, binding his wrists and pulling them up toward the boughs, and the roots had twisted to hold his ankles, keeping his thighs spread wide apart, so that he couldn’t pull them closed if he tried.
On the floor between them, Verdance was kneeling, his eyes shining with mischief.
“Please,” whispered Cain. “Please, Mr Pike, please — ”
“Hush, you darling, sweet thing,” whispered Verdance, his voice softly musical and full of warmth as his hands slid over Cain’s thighs, curled about his knees, squeezed. His hands were more delicate than the average vampire’s, but his palms were nonetheless cold and hard: his mouth, though, was still slightly warm, and when he swiped his tongue up the length of Cain’s cock, Cain cried out.
“Mr Pike, please — ”
“Do you think I’ll hurt you?” asked Verdance quietly, his voice full of a dangerous, curling warmth, and Cain shivered in his place.
Yes, Cain didn’t say, yes, I think you might hurt me, and I won’t mind if you do, Mr Pike, but please, don’t kill me too —
Verdance’s lips enclosed the very tip of his cock, holding the head of Cain’s cock on his tongue, and Cain whimpered at the strength of the sensation as Verdance’s tongue swept around the edge of his foreskin, pressing and tugging on where the flesh was gathered back, dipped into the opening of his cockhead… His tongue pushed in a way that made Cain moan breathlessly at the unholy pressure it sent through his cock, a thrill running up his spine, as he pushed past the lower part of the hole and played over the bundle of nerves beneath, touching and tugging at it, strumming it as though it were the string on a guitar, before he swept down its either side.
Cain felt dizzy, his cheeks hot, his heart beating fast, and when he tried to pull down his hands to reach for Verdance, to touch his hair, his cheeks, Verdance pulled back and laughed, and said, “Ah ah, blessed creature. I don’t think so,” in a sing-song voice. The vines pulled up tighter as the roots dragged him lower, and Cain felt like he was being laid on a rack, a cry wrenching out of his throat.
“Naughty naughty,” murmured Verdance, kissing up the side of his shaft, sweeping his tongue under his foreskin’s folds again, pressing up in a way that was too intense and too strange and Cain’s breath hitched in his throat as Verdance swept down the other side.
“Please,” Cain whispered again, whimpered it, and Verdance’s mouth came to his thigh instead. He did not lick or kiss, but bit, and Cain howled at the pinprick pain of his sharp teeth followed by the rushing, wondrous pleasure that ran through all his veins, his head feeling as though it would split with the sheer intensity of it as Verdance drank from him, and then swallowed Cain’s cock down with his mouth still bloody.
Cain’s shout split the forest air, sent pheasants squawking and stumbling down from their roosts, and Cain could do nothing but submit to the waves of pleasure Verdance Pike made him subject to.
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