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Though, somehow, that is just what I do. My slick cunt finds that thick thing, and slides down, down, down, all of its own accord. Like it was always meant to, like I was made for this. And oh man, the way it makes me feel. The sheer bliss of being filled by that thick thing, the way the slow slide of it lights up every nerve ending inside of me …

It’s unbelievable.

And only made better by his reaction.

“You have—you want to—” He gasps, face slack with desire and deep feeling and a kind of stunned delight. So different from anything I could ever imagine Halsten doing over something like this. In fact, I think I imagined vampires would never want to simply because of the way he was.

So aloof, somehow. So removed from simple pleasures of the flesh.

Whereas Sten is anything but. He’s entirely the opposite. He practically collapses back onto the couch when I rock against him. Hips almost lifting to meet mine, despite how much I can see he’s trying to resist. I can see he wants to ask me more questions, and that all of them are something like Are you sure?

But that just makes me more determined. I work myself over him, again and again, until he’s flushed and straining. Hands on my thighs, in a way that seems designed to slow me down. Then when that doesn’t quite work he attempts to sit up, and get ahold of my ass, my back.

Only that just makes the pleasure intensify.

A thick pulse of it goes right through me—and I know why.

It’s because he isn’t just holding me in place. He can’t just hold me in place.

After a moment of that hot handful of my ass, his hand tightens on me there. He gropes at me, like he just can’t get enough. And oh god, the sound he makes once he feels just how soft I am, how juicy. It’s high and tight and cracked right down the middle. And it devolves into a long, low, desperate groan a moment later.

“Stop, stop,” he practically grunts. “I should not spend inside you.”

Which is pretty bad for me on two fronts:

One is that I have to cut off the most strangely intense pleasure of my life.

And the other is the sure and certain knowledge of what he’s going to do. He’s going to come. Five minutes of this, and he’s already so close it’s making him all flushed, and his fangs are out, and I can feel him swelling inside me. I can feel the first slick trails of it, as excitement makes his cock spill before he even goes over.

Mostly because it’s doing exactly what he was worried about.

It’s affecting me in the exact way he’s resisting. A vampire puts anything from their bodies inside you, and you will fucking feel it. In fact, it makes me wonder why his evil twin has never tried to do it before now—there’s no faster way to make someone delirious with desire.

And I know it works on witches, too.

Because it’s already working on me.

It makes me come almost immediately, so hot and wet and quick that I can’t even cry out. I just clutch at him, shuddering helplessly, as it swells through my cunt and my clit and, oh god, every bit of my body. Oh wow, is it blissful, bone-meltingly blissful; it’s honestly one of the most intense orgasms of my life.

I don’t know how I manage to keep still, to not fuck him through it the way he’s asked me not to. But really it doesn’t matter that I stick to his wishes—I think my sudden extra slickness and my swelling cunt just do the rest. He goes all stiff and still, and then tries to push me away.

Only it’s too late.

He shudders just like I did, and goes back onto one arm, body arching, that big cock suddenly even thicker inside me. Then I get those hot, slick pulses as he fills me, over and over, helpless to do anything about it once it has him in its grip. He can’t even seem to speak or make a sound. His mouth is open, but nothing comes out. And I can’t see how he’s feeling about this, I can’t see what he’s thinking.

His eyes are screwed so tightly shut I fear they might stay that way.

It’s hot as fuck. I’ve never in any of my lives seen a man come like that—like it’s too much to take. And then of course in the aftermath of this unholy sight, I get that sensation. That sensation of being slowly hypnotized, so strong I should really feel afraid. I should really think: Now he’s going to reveal it was all some trick.

Maybe I even would.

If he didn’t then spread me out over the bed, even as my mouth spills words I don’t want to say. “Oh fuck me, take me, use me,” I hear myself saying. And I don’t even just say, either. I’m practically writhing, back arched in a way that makes my breasts look obscene, hands cupping myself there like some lust-filled wanton.

And when I tease my own nipples—oh god.

It almost makes me come all on its own.

Which is good, because I don’t know if he’s going to help with that now.