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Eternity without my beloved would be nothing but emptiness. Pray, I need you, I need you as you need air, I need you more than blood.
In the darkness of our wedding room, away from prying eyes, I am no longer the Dark Lord who oversees the legions of Hell: we merely are husband and wife, and I am eager to spend this night with you alone. As soon as I hear the click of the locked door, I pull you close to me and press my lips onto yours, I kiss you in the same vein as a starving man; and you fold under me, small and delicate, you lean towards me, you tangle your fingers through my hair – oh, you long for me as much as I do for you, don’t you, precious? Yes, I can tell by how your eyes are dark and smoldering with need when we separate.
I cannot wait a second more: I gently push you on the mattress, and discard your clothes one by one, I reveal more of your perfect body to me – were I a younger, brasher vampire, not tempered after centuries of immortality, I would not resist a swipe of my claws, but you do not deserve to see me at my most savage form. No, you deserve to be savored with care, like wine fresh from the uncorked bottle; and so I do, trailing kisses all over your soft skin, flicking my tongue on one of your nipples, exploring the curves and dips of your shoulders and collarbones, lazily stroking your waist and hips. There is no part of you that does not deserve to be worshipped.
Goosebumps come and go on your skin in waves, and you tense sharply, eyes widening and mouth opening in a gasp: it is enough for my fangs to slide out of their sheaths, called forth by a dark hunger stirring within me.
The throbbing vein in your thigh is alluring, it beckons to me, for me to rip apart your flesh… But right now, your shameless arousal is of a more pressing concern. I have barely begun to touch you, and you are already in such a wanton state, you flatter me.
I plant a kiss between your legs, if only to enjoy your little choked groans – still reluctant to let yourself go, after all this time? You are so endearing.
“Should I… do something…?” you ask in a low, breathless voice. The tempting thought of feeling your warm mouth around me brushes against my mind, however…
“I am afraid that tonight is all about you, my delight,” I purr, and I spread your legs further, eliciting a whine from you. “And I have no intention of leaving your side until you carry my name to the Heaven forbidden to the both of us, so let yourself be adored and sing for me.”
Your heart constricts at my words, and I smile. I have only just begun.
I keep nipping at the skin of your inner thighs and suckling your flesh, swirling my tongue at your dripping sex, more and more engorged of your thick blood, and I breathe in your heady smell, until your fingers are blindly clutching at the velvet sheets below you and you snap your head from side to side and you buck your hips at me and you can no longer rein in your sounds of pleasure. There used to be a time when I was worried that I would be too cold for you, but it appears you quite enjoy the sensation. Meanwhile, my fingers at your entrance do the rest; my desire to take you grows hotter and tightens in my abdomen, but I restrain myself, for I would never forgive myself if I ever harmed you in any way. I realize I am quite larger than the average human man, after all.
I climb on top of you again. I tend my hand, and you put your own in mine without hesitation. I kiss the palm of your hand with reverence, and the back, and the knuckles of your fingers, lips resting for a second longer on the ring.
Your wedding ring, as fair as your hair, shines in the darkness: it’s only appropriate that you wear something almost as dazzling as yourself. How it delights me to see you wear it in public, for every wretched creature in my castle to admire: everyone now knows that you are my prized spouse, that you are under my protection, that you belong to me and me alone.
The mere sight of you – splayed on the sheets, face and chest flushed, sides heaving, looking at me with half-lidded eyes – is erotic enough to infuse life to dead flesh. I can only take myself in hand, in awe, grateful to be the only one with the privilege to admire you. You follow the movement of my arm with apprehension, biting your lip.
“Do not fret, love,” I chuckle. “I won’t leave you alone for long.”
Slowly, with all the restraint I am capable of, I position myself and enter your body, and you cry out in that wonderful voice that envelops me as much as your warmth, human warmth, I cannot get enough of it, of you. Once I am fully inside, I force my hips still, to let you get used to me – “You’re too tense, dear, you need to relax” – but your tightness is too much to resist, and I start to push gently.
It doesn’t take long for your body to welcome me, for you to melt in my arms. As the thrum of your heartbeat subsides, I grip your hips and pick up the pace, until your grunts swell into moans.
Your head lolls to the side. Your gaze is distant, your eyes like glass. What are you thinking of, precious?
I kiss away a tear before it falls on your hair. My beloved, always so emotional, so pure. No need to try to smile for me, I know what your heart is singing of.
Ah, but you are too beautiful to not admire. Only you could make me, the Lord of all vampires, so weak. Carefully, as to not mar your face with my claws, I move your head so that your blue eyes are for me to lose myself into. My sweet treasure, what have I done to deserve you?
“My love,” I murmur, “I will give you everything you need. You gifted your life to me, and I will take good care of it, I vow it. No one in the world loves you like I do, always remember that.”
“I know,” you nod, looking at me in a bleary manner. “I’m – ah! – y-yours…”
My lips brush against the shell of your ear as I whisper: “You are safe with me. No one shall ever harm one hair on your beautiful head, as long as I can protect you. I will do anything to protect you.”
And I will. I won’t let anyone, not even God, separate me from my wife.
I had considered the idea of turning you into one of my kind, to relieve you of the curse of mortality. I could be sure that you’d stay at my side for centuries to come, my eternal wife, to love me and to be loved by me until the end of time, made to spite God and his foolish creed together. But no, I will not, for you would not be the same anymore: I could not enjoy your warmth, and your softness, and the spark of life in your eyes. No, you are precious to me as you are: I’d rather have you ephemeral, but alive.
I suppose that this means that I shall not waste a single instant with you.
“I wish I could show you…” I nuzzle into the crook on the side of your neck. “How you smell, how you taste… you are ambrosia, precious… You are so good to me, so good…”
You are a masterpiece writhing under me, crafted by the finest artist: your angelic face drowning in pleasure, sweat rolling down your forehead, brow furrowed and full lips parted, gasping, delightful sounds being wrung out of them – you moan and whimper and babble beyond reason, the only discernible words that come out of you are a mixture of darling and my Lord. You never stopped revering me, and I will never you.
You try to wrap your trembling legs around my waist, to pull me as close as I can be. Your hands travel up and down my back, grasping at my doublet: even through it, I can feel your fingernails digging into my back, too dull to even scratch the brocaded fabric, but nonetheless my skin crackles with pleasure at your passion. Rest assured, I will give you what you deserve, dear.
Your body thrums with heat, and is now slick with sweat. Your warm breath washes over me as you pant more and more desperately; I do not need to breathe, but I nearly feel the vestiges of the instinct at such a spectacle.
I close the remaining distance between us: my tongue delves between those wet, reddened lips, I roll it around yours and the tip brushes against the back of your throat, you moan in my mouth, I invade you from the inside and now we truly are one, as joined as we could possibly be. My hands slide up your arms, your wrists, until my fingers interlock with yours and I squeeze as control slips away from me and my rhythm grows frantic.
I breathe in the perfume of heat and sweat that radiates from your neck, enraptured by the thick vein pulsating beneath the surface of your skin. No, not yet, I placate the beast within. It’s you who does this to me, you fan the flames of arousal and hunger raging in my veins; in a fluid move, I grab and spread your legs, I lift your hips, and I thrust and thrust into you, until you are too breathless to even scream, you gasp as if you were drowning, and so am I, I need you, I need you, I need you…
I know I’ve hit the right spot when you throw your head back and keen with a strength that belies your lithe body. Heat pools in my abdomen at that wondrous sound.
“That’s it,” I croon. “Let yourself go… For me.”
I pass a thumb over your swollen sex, drawing a needy, delightful mewl from you: your pulse throbs beneath the tip of my finger, tempting beyond reason. Your eyes are glazed with pure lust now, any previous hesitation left behind, so debauched and yet nearly heavenly – and I, only I, can elevate you like this.
“D-darling…” Oh, when you call me like that, I almost remember how it feels to have a beating heart. “Please… I’m close… bite me, please, Lord…!”
And how could I deny you such a desperate plea? I would never be that cruel.
I kiss your neck with small pecks, and only bare my teeth enough to brush them against your skin, savoring its softness, how easy it will give in under my fangs… You startle at every move, sighing and quivering with anticipation, you impatient little thing. I see you move your hand between your legs; I’m quick to pin your wrists above your head.
Perhaps I find amusement in teasing you, after all.
“I did not hear…” I grin against the dip of your neck, and allow myself to pass my tongue on it and taste the salt on your skin, enjoying your shuddering. “What did you say?”
“I beg of you… D-darling, my love…” You swallow, the tendons in your neck twitch. “I love you, V-Vlad!”
Ah.
I let my primal instincts overcome me, and with a growl I bury my teeth into your throat, I tear into your flesh, I give you pain and pleasure at the same time until they are one and the same, I give you what you need to reach your peak.
And it comes, and you wail in a glorious climax: your body clenches and jerks upwards, back arched to the limit, every muscle in your body taut, your thighs shake in my hands – wonderful, you are simply wonderful, the picture of divine ecstasy, and I am so close as well…
There it is, blood – rich and thick and hot blood, sweeter and more inebriating than the strongest wine – it pumps and gushes into my mouth, I swallow with greed, it pours down my throat and fills me to the core – it’s life, it’s your life flowing into me, taken from you, offered by you, and I suck it and drink it, each and every drop of your blood is a treasure, you are mine, mine, mine to create and mine to shred to pieces, Hector–!
White heat seizes me: a deep shudder from within sends waves of searing pleasure courses through my veins. Head in a daze, I let go of your throat and embrace you tightly, to bask in the warm bliss taking over me. What good is Heaven, when you are here?
A pained hiss wakes me from my reverie. Breath coming out in shallow gasps and heart racing, you bring a shaky hand to your neck: blood is flowing from it in rivulets. Ah, I apologize, dear, I have lost control and bitten you too deeply. Only you can have this effect on me. I lick the gashes, the last drops of your exquisite blood, and you let me without a sound.
Your eyes are vacant again. Where do you go, when you slip away from me?
You won’t slip away from me.
“Look at me,” I order. “It’s improper for a wife to avoid looking her husband in the eye.”
You exhale and correct your mistake, mumbling something that could be an apology. There it is, the spark of life in your icy eyes again: of all your unique features, from your hair shining like moonlight to your chiseled cheekbones to your plump lips, this is the one that makes you so irresistible.
So much strength in you, for my hands to mold. Slowly but surely, I am shaping you into something perfect.
The moonlight glimmers on your wedding ring.
While you call for a Fairy to heal the wound, I slip out of you to lay on your side. I am but a man, and perverse of a pleasure it may be, I do enjoy the sight of my seed pouring out of you and staining your thighs – you belong to me and me only and I have marked you as such inside and outside. Not even the most foolish of creatures would dare to lay a hand on you.
(Red is mixed with it. Not even Devil Forgemasters are truly unbreakable, it seems.)
I patiently await for you to catch your breath and send away your little Devil. You do, and I allow myself a moment to admire you in this state: only you could be this stunning, even as sweat is cooling on your skin and you are covered in spent. I wipe your stomach with my fingers and bring them to your mouth, and you suck on my fingertips coated with your seed without thinking. “Good boy,” I say out of habit, then reconsider: “No, you aren’t a boy anymore. You’re my spouse. Aren’t you glad, Hector?”
“Yes, my Lord,” you answer mechanically, then, eyes downcast and cheeks growing hotter: “I mean… darling.”
Were I still alive, my heart would have skipped at the sound of that beautiful word. If only you would smile more. Perhaps in due time, once you get used to it.
I wrap an arm around your waist, and I wait for you to turn around and cling to me, head under my chin. I know that, underneath your pride, you need me, and I will always be here for you. In the silence of our wedding room, I let myself be lulled by the melody of your heartbeat, the sound of life beckoning to me.
The delicate music is shattered by the creak of teeth gnashing. You are shivering against me, my body no longer being warmed up by your blood from within. I know that humans hardly tolerate the cold of the undead, but forgive me, for I need your warmth close to where my heart used to be. I kiss your forehead, and card my fingers through your tousled hair, as I know you find the gesture comforting.
If only it were golden instead of silver. But it will do.
… Lisa…
My chest still aches deeply for my Lisa as the day I have lost her, the one light of my existence: she has been torn away from me too soon, and I cannot find peace within myself, or with the God that so despises me. Oh, I would do anything to have her back. I am raining hellfire all over Europe and I will make the cursed human race feel a glimpse of the agony they are putting me through, and yet it is not enough, it will never be enough.
My dear boy, even with her ring on your finger, you cannot ever be her, of this I am all too aware: you can only create life through blasphemy, you harbor no kindness for the humans who have hurt you, your skin is calloused and bears the scars of the war that you are fighting for me. But you have given your life to me, you have sworn to serve me through body and soul, and thanks to you, each day the loneliness feels more afar. You are my most prized creation, and I have grown quite fond of the man you have grown to be: she will live on through you.
I slide my hand lower until I am cupping your cheek in my palm, and you look so weak and tired, the beating of your heart only a faint murmur, that I don’t resist the urge of giving you a last, soft kiss. You’re lethargic, but you attempt to reciprocate my movements, even as you smear your own blood on your lips, and that is good enough: I taught you well. My gaze does not linger to the bruises adorning your limbs, or the beads of blood still welling up on your throat, from cuts bound to become new scars to be added to many older ones. It’s alright, you’re not as fragile as Lisa was, you can use the magic I’ve infused you with to heal yourself. You have surpassed the limits of a mere human being, for I made you that way, my best Devil Forgemaster, my Hector.
Eternity spent alone… I could not stand it. Once, in another life, delirious with grief and my newly acquired immortality, I begged my then dearest friend to stay with me after Lisa– no, Elisabetha’s death… but he coldly rejected me. But you won’t, will you, Hector? Why would you leave me, when I can give you everything you want? Power, a home, and love, everything you have asked for. In return, fall asleep in my arms, in this bed now too vast and cold. It is only fair, isn’t it?
I stroke your cheek with the back of my fingers, to wipe another tear falling down. I am afraid that my sorrow has pushed me to the brink of madness. But Lisa will understand and pardon me, as she has pardoned all of my sins.