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Something like pity began to infuse Maddox’s anger, cooling it. William had acted recklessly and aggressively, but he’d done so out of a need that had driven saner men than him mad. Maddox knew that he was partially to blame for this. Not for the actions, but for their cause.

He put the cane down and picked up a thick leather paddle instead. This would sting and thud, but it would not leave the same brutal marks and lines a long caning would. Mad did wonder if he had started to soften where Will was concerned, but humans had been telling him for as long as he could remember that empathy was a good thing. He resolved to experiment with the notion that might be true.

“I do not want you to go back to prison,” he said, bringing the thick, rounded rectangle down hard enough to land a solid blow across both of Will's cheeks. The paddle landed with a satisfying THWACK! It also produced an equally satisfying redness that soothed Maddox’s absence of soul and went a long way toward mollifying his anger. “I would miss you very much, boy.”

“You’d get me out again,” Will said with great confidence, the words half-hissed in an effort to deal with the pain.

“You assume I can do anything.”

“You’re an ancient vampire king. So. Yeah.”

Maddox landed the paddle again, hard. The slap of leather meeting hot skin was beautiful, as was Will’s little gasp. He knew he was not really hurting his boy. This pain was not the kind that did damage. This pain was the kind that instructed and aroused. He saw Will’s hips make that inevitable grinding motion as he rubbed his cock against the bedding, desperate, grunting little humps that made him look like the needy animal he was.

Again and again, Maddox played the paddle across Will's ass, painting his skin until it was a deep red, the color of contrition. He was not so foolish as to imagine he had truly made any impact on the boy. His disobedience and recklessness arose from a desire no thrashing could ever remove.

When Will’s hide had been through enough, when the boy was basically fucking the bed with need, Maddox tossed the paddle down, fisted his cock and grabbed the nearest thing that looked like lubricant. A decent drizzle over Will’s tight, dark hole was all the kindness he was going to receive.

It was with a harsh thrust that Maddox slammed himself home inside Will. The immediate heat of his ass was almost enough to prompt another orgasm, but Mad kept himself under control. He heard Will’s curse and felt the desperate grip of his ass squeezing insistently, demanding his cum. It wasn’t going to be that simple.

It was going to be long. It was going to be intimate. It was going to take Will to the very limits of his patience and sanity, whichever came first. Maddox slid all the way in, as deep as Will could take him, as deep as he could go. His balls came to rest against Will’s lower cheeks, his cock buried all the way in his boy’s interior. This was where he belonged. This was the place he had been missing from. This was where he intended to stay, reminding William that not even his body belonged to him.

Mads’ fangs had been extended since this began, anticipating the moment when he would feed. He was hungry for more than the embrace of flesh. He needed blood, living serum flowing through his ancient veins. He rarely drank from Will, fearing that he would weaken him at a time when he was already dealing with great physical strain. But if the boy had enough energy to get himself arrested, he had enough to share.

The moment when Maddox’s fangs penetrated Will’s neck was perfect and precious. It had been far, far too long since the coppery, rich, perfect biological beverage slaked his thirst. Will’s blood tasted like animal, wild and skittish. With every sip, he understood his boy better. He felt his fear and tasted his pleasure too. There was so much longing in the blood. So much need. And a desperate loneliness that should not have been there. Maddox understood on an even deeper level how he had failed the young man impaled on his cock and fangs. He could not undo what had not been done, but he could fuck the boy.

He began to thrust with rolling motions of his hips, sensually taking Will back to the place they both needed to be, the point of connection between master and servant, vampire and boy. Will was not quite so dangerously tight now; he had started to relax, and with that relaxation he began to moan.

Maddox loved that sound. It was a sound only he could get from Will, a sound of submission not just to his power, but to his pleasure. That lonely longing in the blood had been created by the absence of this simple connection, and Maddox felt like a complete bastard for not having noticed all the days and nights going by without either one of them experiencing this perfect pleasure.

“You're mine,” he purred in Will’s ear. “You’ll always be mine. No matter where I am, or how busy I might seem to be, this hole is mine to fuck, this blood is mine to drink. Your body, your mind, your soul, there's not a part of you I don’t own.”

Will's answer was a guttural moan. He had gone past the point of being able to speak and was putting all his energy into the sexual peak they were both now fast approaching. This was the point where the line between mortal and immortal blurred, where for a brief moment they both felt like precisely the same creature, thrusting, writhing, grunting, moaning. Maddox sated all his appetites with his hapless captive until he came again, flesh for flesh, fluid for fluid, finally filling William at both ends.

Will screamed at the moment of orgasm, his ass clamping tight around Maddox’s cock, his limbs stiffening and then flailing, his hands grasping at the sheets as his hips worked back on Maddox’s rough rod again and again, draining every bit of vampiric seed from his master.

Mad collapsed just to the side so as not to crush Will of his breath entirely, one arm wrapped around Will’s waist. Maddox's clothing had not been removed, but it had been mussed and opened, his shirt buttons giving way to the intense physicality of a rough vampire claim, his pants open and halfway down his thighs. He had lost a little of his own dignity in stripping Will of his, but he regretted nothing.

Will turned his head to look at Maddox, his eyes bright, skin flushed, lips parted with little panting breaths as he attempted to recover from the orgasm.

“That was hot,” he said.

“Yes,” Maddox agreed. “I hope you learned something, boy.”

Will smiled, and Maddox was almost entirely certain he’d learned absolutely nothing.

He stood up and looked down at Will with the deep satisfaction and relaxation that can only follow sexual release. Will was lying there, a faint smear of blood on his neck, and two piercing wounds where Maddox’s fangs had sunk themselves inside him. His ass was still a very bright red and dripping with Maddox’s essence. He was a mess. A beautiful, perfect mess.

“I forget you’re a vampire, sometimes,” Will mumbled. “It’s been a long time since you sucked my blood. Almost as long since you made me come.”

"Get up.” Maddox slapped Will’s ass with the palm of his hand. It was truly impossible to teach this boy anything approximating respect.

Will stood up, his erection bobbing and throbbing with new need. Maddox had no intention of sating that particular desire again. Will did not deserve to come twice. But he did deserve to be embraced, and that is what Mad did, pulling Will close and wrapping his arms tightly around him.

“Now we can talk.”

Will was relieved. He had been afraid that Maddox would ban the topic of conversation and line of inquiry entirely.

“Come to the kitchen. I will give you ice cream.”

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