By Quon and Tom
11.
This is it. Paul shuddered at the thought, as Carlos backed him towards
the bed. Paul stopped as the backs of his knees hit the bed, until Carlos carefully
leant him down onto the soft mattress.
Another thrill fired through the tight coil inside him as Carlos climbed onto
the bed astride him, long canines glinting in a wicked smile. Carlos began to undo
the buttons of Paul’s blood-flecked white shirt. Paul pushed his hands into Carlos’s
hair and dragged him down into a fierce, biting, sharp-toothed kiss, tasting his own
blood, tasting Carlos’s blood.
He recognised the sleek, exotic taste of Carlos’s blood and tried hard to
memorize it. Sharp, piquant and spicy, Paul licked into the corners of Carlos’s
mouth, tried to get at more of it, until Carlos pulled away, laughing.
“Easy, Paul. We’ve got all night.”
But Paul didn’t want to wait. He pulled Carlos’s hair, raked his nails over
Carlos’s back, kissed him until his lips felt bruised. Rolling suddenly, he put Carlos
underneath him and straddled his hips eagerly. Carlos laughed, running his fingers
through Paul’s silky blonde hair and kissing him softly.
“Take it easy,” He murmured, bringing Paul down to lie on their sides
together. “I can’t go too fast.”
“Oh…” Paul flushed, as though suddenly remembering how he’d hurt him.
“…I’m sorry…”
“We’ll get to it all,” Carlos promised. “Cool down…” But Paul couldn’t
cool down; his blood ran hot in his veins, so hot it felt like he was evaporating under
the soft heat of the kisses Carlos was pressing into the well of his throat, the
delicious searing pains of sharp teeth as they caught at his flesh.
“Carlos…my Carlos,” Paul caught himself whispering. Carlos paused,
resting his cheek against Paul’s flat stomach for a moment. He sighed, and without
looking at Paul at first, he turned his head and placed a soft kiss against the taut skin.
“My Paul,” He mumbled. Paul saw him rub his eyes once, as though
brushing away tears. Paul placed a reassuring hand on the back of Carlos’s neck,
rubbing the silky bristles with the tips of his fingers.
Then Carlos was moving back up his body, kissing his lips over and over
again, hungry for all he could get, for all that he could give. Paul reciprocated the
kisses passionately, until he could no longer bear the pressure inside him,
threatening to burst his heart.
The meat he had eaten before had given him an appetite; animal blood was
fine, for a while, but they could not live from it. They needed human blood to
survive. But they needed each other more.
Carlos felt it too. Inside, he was spinning, whirling. The last few days had
seen death, fear, rejection, brutality and now…love. Love.
“Sorry?” Paul whispered with his face softly smudged with shadow.
“My love,” said Carlos, no longer scared of anything. “My love, my Paul.”
Paul’s face broke into a smile that lit the room. He stuck out a wet tongue tip
and slid it across Carlos’ chest, circling the nipples before blessing each with
wicked, sharp-toothed nibbles. Carlos pretended to cry out at the cruelty, but his
eyes glowed with a deep liquid heat. Paul responded by giving his full attention to
these rose petal-pink buds, sucking and nipping and licking the flesh until they
flushed red, engorged with fevered blood. Carlos groaned at the pleasure, at Paul’s
dutiful, provoking ministrations. Still Paul would not leave his nipples, fondling one
between agile fingertips as his lips suckled the other.
“Please Paul…” Even Carlos couldn’t tell if he begged for respite from the
torment or demanded more, more.
Paul finally continued his descent, his sinful eyes on Carlos as his tongue
trailed down, down, sending electricity sparking through Carlos’ nerve endings as it
flicked over his navel, his painfully tender belly.
Then Carlos really did cry out as Paul’s slick warm mouth enclosed his cock,
sharp nails raking down his slim hips. He threaded a hand through Paul’s soft
blonde hair before whispering, “Paul, not like this,” although if he had his way he’d
never let Paul stop. He wanted this boy far too much, wanted him in ways he had
never wanted anyone before: hot, bloody, deep, forever.
Paul looked up at him, eyes burning, and paused, hovering over Carlos,
mouth slick and shiny. He looked delicious, his face flushed and his lungs heaving,
hair tousled, soft lips dark and swollen with kisses and pricked bloody by
needlesharp teeth. Carlos kissed him deeply, soft at first, then hard, until he tasted
blood and Paul groaned. Carlos swung his leg up and rolled them both over,
straddling the smaller man, not entirely sure how he had ended up underneath Paul
in the first place.
He was still sore, still tender, but with every kiss and touch, he could feel
himself healing, his pain abating in place of something unexplainable, something far
stronger. Paul’s teeth clipped his tongue, his lip, his chin, but it only served to
heighten Carlos’s senses. He could smell Paul; taste him, salty sweat and bitter
cigarette smoke, sweet and bloody and aroused. It would be a crime to rush through
this.
It was getting late, but neither of them thought about that; Paul was too busy
thinking about how good Carlos felt, touching him, biting and caressing. The
contrast of sharp teeth and soft sucking kisses and an iron hand. Carlos squeezed
him, so tight, so deliciously that Paul’s fingernails found the larger man’s shoulders
and clutched him hard, lost in pleasure.
Sweat and heat and blood, holding and slipping and kissing. Paul could feel
himself sliding further towards orgasm, towards monumental release, every muscle
tightening in preparation; he could taste it…
Carlos pulled back, his teeth bared in a grin. He wanted nothing more than
to bite this boy everywhere, leave puncture holes everywhere, and he had no doubt
that Paul would permit him to. As vampires, small bites and cuts were not painful to
them, but part of the deepest lovemaking; both of them sensed this even as Carlos
brought Paul’s wrist to his lips, bit lightly until he tasted blood, could feel Paul
doing the same.
A rush of blood, like the sweetest nectar, filled Paul’s mouth. It carried the
throb of Carlos’ heart, pulsing like something animate. Paul wondered if he had ever
known true satisfaction before this moment, as Carlos’ life-blood sated him in ways
he had never known possible. He felt stronger, wiser, more beautiful and in
desperate need of fucking and being fucked. Every sip, every kiss, every questing
tongue and curious fingertip was a way of uniting their bodies and souls ever tighter
in an eternal embrace.
Looking up at Carlos - gently licking the lesion on his wrist, his saliva
healing the wound – he was utterly transfixed by the beauty of the man. He raised
his hands, tracing the lines of his lover’s face with adoring fingers.
“Now. Please, Carlos, now…now…”
It was an effort not to swoon into a dead faint as Carlos ran sharp nails down
his torso, agitating already frayed nerve endings. Long pale fingers caressed the heat
of the singer’s belly, and he was so rapt by sensation that he felt his tummy cramp
with the beginnings of orgasm. Carlos was watching his face all the while, watching
for the shallow, irregular breaths and the heavy lids that spelled the onset of Paul’s
hungrily desired climax. Seeing the spittle on the man’s lip, his mouth gaping
slackly, he changed his technique, delaying the absolute pleasure.
“Please, Carlos, I need…”
Paul almost sobbed with frustration as the hands left his belly and instead
began to graze the hairs on his calves.
“Carlos!”
The hands on his legs slid slowly upwards, and Carlos’ agile lips sucked and
nibbled at the surprisingly sensitive patch of flesh behind the blonde’s knees. The
lips joined the hands in a combined assault on the tender flesh of Paul’s inner thighs.
Paul inched his knees apart, eager for Carlos to move on to the very fulcrum of his
body. Carlos was more patient, lightly scratching the smooth thigh-flesh with the
tips of his teeth, blessing the inner skin with kisses both chastely soft-lipped and
wickedly wet-tongued.
Paul was flat on his back, writhing among the covers and clenching the sheet
in white cottony handfuls. He whispered frantic, breathless pleas to be finished off,
to receive the good hard fucking he so richly deserved. Looking at the beautiful,
horny, hungry boy before him, Carlos both marveled and despaired at his own
resolve. With a sad little smile, he fell on the body like a raptor on its kill. Lips,
tongues and teeth were everywhere. Below, his fingers found Paul’s cock, pinching
the velvety tip as Paul stiffened in readiness to come.
“Not yet,” he whispered.
Parting Paul’s thighs wider still, he licked his index finger and probed
between Paul’s buttocks.
“No! Oh, Carlos,” Paul moaned harshly, shuddering as Carlos’s invasion
teased his body even higher. He threw his legs as far apart as they would go,
begging for it. It took all Carlos had not to accept such a blatant, hungry plea,
instead leaning over him and kissing him deeply as his fingers searched Paul’s body
slowly, driving the smaller man wild with pleasure and agonized passion.
Carlos kept Paul on the edge of an orgasm, a warm hand pressed to his belly,
warm lips pressed everywhere. The blonde man became feral, nails like claws on
Carlos’s back and chest, low growls and hisses from deep in his throat.
“Please, Carlos, if you don’t fuck me now I think I’m going to…” he
whispered, his lips saliva-slick and his body glittering ivory with sweat, his chest
heaving like bellows. “Please, Carlos. Please.” He propped himself up on his
elbows and looked at Carlos suppliantly. Paul, having drunk Carlos’s blood in a
powerful articulation of deep love, was now alive with it, hungry, needing
the physical human love Carlos could give him.
Something about the longing and hunger in Paul’s eyes twisted Carlos’s guts,
and with a pang, he saw a tear glistening in the corner of Paul’s eye. Carlos kissed
him once, stroking Paul’s smooth blonde hair. “Okay, Paul. Okay.”
Paul was so weak with lust that Carlos rolled him onto his belly with ease,
forcing a pillow beneath his hips. There was no need for words anymore. Carlos
knelt behind Paul’s body and pressed the tip of his cock against the man’s tight, hot
breach. Even now, even as far gone as he was, Paul still found the energy to shudder
and gasp at this longed for contact. Carlos stroked his spine tenderly. He leant
forwards with a graceful force and finally found himself inside Paul, just a little
way.
It was enough for Paul. He came suddenly, spilling hot semen onto the bed
beneath him. He was transported through time and space, his body riddled with light
and heat. As he returned to his body, he could hear Carlos chuckle softly, his dick
still rigid and tight, barely an inch inside his flesh. He could feel his own cock,
barely softened by the force of his orgasm.
“I’m not done with you yet, my love.” Carlos’ voice was a smile, but he
frowned with concentration as he pushed his cock deeper, rocking his hips slightly
to widen Paul’s unyielding channel. He forced himself as deep as possible, before
withdrawing almost completely. He began to fuck Paul with long, slow thrusts that
aggravated every fiber of Paul’s being.
He lay beneath Carlos, knuckles white against the sheets. Somewhere
between despair and ecstasy, he could feel his body move unstoppably towards
another climax.
Holding on as tight as he could to his willpower, Paul pushed his hips back
against Carlos, desperately trying to prolong this unmitigated act of passion and
love. Carlos’s cock provoked the strangest sensations inside him, all delicious and
unfamiliar; Paul had never been adverse to the idea of being exhaustively fucked,
but he had no idea it would be like this. The muscles in his back stiffened
involuntarily. Fighting frenetically to remain material. He felt as though he was
being pushed slowly, rhythmically toward heaven, every hard plunge of Carlos’s
hips driving him closer and closer to wild, hot bliss.
Then something Carlos did made Paul’s eyes water in rapture, back arching,
muscles arresting to feel it again. “Carlos,” Paul murmured, catching sight of his
white-knuckled fists in the sheets, aware of every sensation inside him. “Carlos!”
He could tolerate it no longer; he let himself finally go in pulsing waves of heat and
ecstasy.
It seemed to go on forever; cadenced surges gripped him again and again and
again, until he could no longer support himself and collapsed, heard Carlos’s
exultant moan, felt the other vampire collapse on top of him, then slide sideways on
the sweat of their bodies to lie beside him.
Carlos ran fingers through Paul’s dampish, lank hair. The blonde’s chest
heaved like a wild thing run to collapse, and Carlos gathered him in his arms, weak
and satisfied.