Sunlight slits through half-open shutters in our dim bedroom. I wake first, sheets tangled around my naked body. Huang sleeps deep, chest rising slow. His skin glows warm, muscles etched from endless hunts. My pulse quickens. Heat pools low in my belly. Nine years chasing bloodsuckers, and still, this fire ignites me. I need him. Now. Danger lurks outside—vampires plotting—but here, it’s just us. My hand traces his chest. Nipples harden under my fingers. Heart hammers. I lean in, breath hot on his neck. Lips brush his ear. ‘Baby.’ He stirs, groans low. Fuck, that sound. My thighs clench. Desire surges, raw and feral. Skin flushes hot. I slide down, eyes on his soft cock resting against his thigh. Mine. All mine. Pulse races wild. Urgency grips me—possess him before the world crashes in.
My fingers wrap his shaft. Warm, heavy. It twitches. I kiss the corner of his mouth. He mumbles, eyes still shut. Tongue flicks his lips. Down I go, trailing kisses over his chest, abs tightening under me. Sweat beads on my skin already. Heart thuds like war drums. His cock stirs in my grip. I lick the base, slow. Salty skin. Balls heavy, smooth. I suck one in, tongue swirling. He gasps, hips buck. ‘Hmmm…’ Other ball next, gentle pull with lips. His hand fists the sheet. I trace up, tongue flat along the vein. Gland swells, red and eager. Pre-cum beads. I lap it, bitter-sweet. Cock hardens fully, steel in my mouth. I swallow him deep. Throat stretches. He moans, eyes cracking open. ‘Oh, ma chérie…’ I bob, suction tight. Saliva drips, slicking balls. Hand pumps base. Faster. His hips thrust up. Grunts animal. My pussy aches, soaked. Sweat slicks us. Heart pounds in sync with his. No mercy. I own this.
The Fever
He tenses. ‘Stop, it’s coming…’ No. I stroke furious, mouth on gland. Veins pulse. First jet hits his belly, thick ropes. He cries out, body arches. ‘Yes! Fuck!’ More spurts, hot white. I milk every drop, tongue teasing slit. He shudders, gasps. Cock softens in my hand. I crawl up, lips crashing his. Taste of us. Skin still fever-hot, sticky with cum and sweat. He pulls me close. ‘What was that for?’ I shrug, chest heaving. ‘Needed you.’ Shower calls, but phone buzzes. Amélie. News hits: Ben alive. Vampire slaughtered thirty-eight. Cops have ashes. Shock ripples, but my body hums. Skin burns from his release. Lips swollen. We dress slow, afterglow clinging like smoke. Outside, vampires wait. But this moment—his seed drying on me, pulse slowing—it’s ours. Unique. Devouring. Eternal.