"Do you think you still need the coffin?" Ricky asked me. I watched him intently as he stood at his dresser, unfastening the cufflinks on his shirt. The warm glow of a thousand candles softened his demonic luster.

"Not sure." I replied, "I've still got my fangs, and my bloodlust, but I haven't felt like I needed my coffin."

"Technically, it's my coffin. I was the one who paid for it."

I smirked, just enough he could see my fangs were drawn. "I won't argue with you. Especially because I was the one that fucked you until you cried in that coffin." Ricky scoffed at me, that playful look that said 'I can't believe you went there'. "One of these days, I'll have to give you a full dose of that venom. We'll see if you can still call it a cheap parlor trick when you can't see straight."

Ricky dropped his blouse to the floor as he approached the side of the bed. "But not tonight?"

"Not tonight, baby." His leg swung over my hips and he found his place perched in my lap. I wrapped my hands around his thighs and pulled him in closer. "Tonight, I just want to enjoy you. Every inch of you."

To be home again, it felt like a dream. And all that we've been through, it was suddenly nothing more than a nightmare that seemed so brief in hindsight. To hear familiar noises again—The creatures that stirred in the forest, and the ogre that sneakily fed them; the whispers of our spy as he sat in a tree, seemingly talking to no one, and the stroke of the fire burning in the kitchen furnace. Pages turning, knives at work, swords at practice. And most importantly, the heartbeat of my love and the flame of his breath as he kissed me. It was home.

I hummed as his lips played at my jawline. Ricky's hands greedily explored my body, running over my bare chest and arms. He loved to feel the ever so subtle movement of my biceps as I tightened my grip at the back of his thighs. I moved one hand to the crown of his skull, tangling my fingers in his hair and forcing his mouth off me. He smiled coyly as he met my eyes. My little Cheshire Cat.

"Mouth." Without hesitation, he opened up. "Good boy." I released my grip on his head, shifting my hand to his jawline. My thumb rested upon his bottom lip. I lingered just a moment, testing his patience, before pressing my thumb into his mouth. Ricky sucked on it with the same vigor he would when giving head. He was truly one Hell of a sub. His hand wrapped around my wrist, turning my hand so that he could trail his kisses down my palm and spread his tongue over my other fingers. I watched him suck on my flesh in a nearly hypnotic state. It was equally as mesmerizing to me—So much so that I didn't notice the tensing of his jaw until it was too late.

Ricky chomped down on the proximal end of my middle finger. He didn't have teeth like mine, but that internal fire licked my flesh like fangs. I involuntarily hissed as static washed through my nervous system. He grinned at me like the fucking Devil, my blood now staining his lips.

I growled, "I'm going to kill Angelo."

"You assume he was the one that told me?" Ricky teased me. He fainted a laugh as he watched the realization hit me. "It's your fault, you know. I would've never even known Ville was so close to a vampire if it wasn't for you."

Damn them both. What Ricky did, he literally struck a nerve. And that nerve, when it's hit just right, it forces forth our primal instincts. A lust akin to sexual arousal burned through my gums, pulsing through the very roots and pulp of my teeth. My hand locked onto his neck. He gasped, yet continued to revel in his masochism. "It'd be so easy to kill you now." I whispered. My thumb pressed into his jugular vein, feeling it throb as his blood pumped and his heart thudded. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to take what's rightfully yours." He replied, "Show me you own me, Chris."

God, he knows how to drive me insane. I didn't even hesitate before slamming him into the mattress and throwing myself on top of him. My fangs gouged into his neck without remorse. Ricky yelped initially, but quickly began groaning and breathing deep into my ear. I heard his gasping of my name, felt his body move as his hand traveled between his legs. Touching himself? My little slut had to have known I wasn't going to allow that. I slashed his chest with my claws. Though it would be a major injury for a human, it was nothing but a slap to one of us.

Red dripped from my fangs when I ripped away from his neck. I loved the feeling of running my fingertips over his skin and painting his body in his own blood. The more twisted our romance, the closer we felt to one another. The darkness in us, I suppose. His wounds didn't grow closed as quickly when they were caused by a demon lord. I licked across the gash in his chest slowly, even teased the inside of the wound with my tongue. He wiggled impatiently under my weight, to which I simply shoved him back down onto the mattress.

My lips continued down his body, my hands disrobing him. The curve of his abdomen—a perfect v-line—and the veins that ran parallels like river streams, it was a map of my paradise. He never once flinched when I took him into my mouth, never once worried about my fangs being drawn. Ricky trusted I knew exactly when and where he liked the pain, and where he didn't. He rolled his hips as I pleased him, pressing himself deeper into my throat. I swallowed around him, earning another buck from his hips. A laugh slipped out as I receded to catch my breath.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I said, "I was just thinking about how beautiful you are, how perfectly we fit together. It was like your body was made for mine." Where his hand had balled up the comforter, I reached out, intertwining our fingers. "You're still not getting away with shit, though."

He whined as I returned to pleasing him. As if this isn't what he wanted all along. His fingers squeezed tighter around mine, his opposite arm thrown over his brow in a daze. I used my free arm to hold down his hips, keep him from squirming too far from the wet heat of my mouth. He moaned so desperately as those legs locked around me. I didn't mind his heels digging into my ribs or his fingers about ready to break mine. It was all worth his pleasure, and his torture.

"Ch-Chris, stop." He quavered, "I'm- I can't."

Aw, my poor baby doesn't want to cum before I've had a chance to fuck him. He should've thought of that before playing his little tricks with me. I watched him closely as he convulsed in beautiful agony, arching his back just so I'd force him down again. Ricky cursed under his breath about what a bastard I was as he came down from his high. I simply wiped the spit from my lips and swallowed his cum.

"Good boy." I teased him. While I stood up off the bed to remove my pants, Ricky remarked how he would get me back for this one. "Behave, or else I'll eat that pretty ass until you can't move your legs. Now, c'mere."

His eyes narrowed, "Make me."

Little slut, when will you learn? I took him by the ankle and yanked him off the bed. My fist balled his hair by the nape of his neck and I dragged him over to the dresser. His hips collided with the molded edge, his chest slamming into the solid oak top. I readjusted his head so that he was faced with his own reflection in the mirror, then lowered myself down to my knees. My cock was begging for his body, but I wasn't done overstimulating him just yet. I bit and sucked at his thighs, leaving behind bruises that'd be healed before we were even done. Though I often wish they lasted longer—so that I could know while he stands over his servants and commands the house, beneath his clothes he had constant little reminders of who he answered to—The only mark that truly mattered was the scar of my fangs upon his neck.

Ricky whimpered so pathetically as my lips reached his entrance. I loved wrapping my arms around his legs, feeling his knees go weak as I ate him out. But I won't prolong his torture anymore. I know he'll be crying like a bitch on my cock anyways. He was a flushed, mewling mess as my cockhead teased his cute ass. As I pushed in, Ricky cried over how big it was, how good it felt. I lifted one of his legs onto the dresser to open him up more, took hold of his hair to keep his face in front of the mirror, then fucked him like an animal.

If anyone heard us, it didn't matter to him. Fuck, it didn't matter to me. His body felt so damn good around mine. I growled and moaned as I fucked my baby hard, just the way he likes it. Ricky was so weak for me, muttering incoherent curses, unable to decide if he wanted me to slow down or speed up. At some point, it all blurred into one drunken whine. He was so sensitive, exactly what I wanted. God, he felt fucking good. I could stay like this for fucking ever, but it still wasn't enough. I wanted more of him, to be closer.

I pulled out just long enough to flip him around and sit him up on the dresser. His legs wrapped around my hips, his arms around my neck, our chests so damn close together. Our breath in each other's ears as I fucked him mercilessly. Despite the winter cold, we both had broken a sweat. His body vulnerable against mine, weak and dripping in sweat and heat, feeling every beat of each other's heart and every gasp of breath—Ecstasy.

When his nails drug down my back, the sensation went far deeper than my physical skin. I could feel his soul dancing with mine. The pleasure was incredible, almost too much to handle. My movements became sloppy as the knots twisted in my stomach. Ricky lovingly brushed my sweat soaked hair out of my face, looking at me with those lust dazed eyes. He rested his forehead to mine, holding the back of my head with both hands. Without saying a word, he pleaded me to cum inside of him. I barely managed to keep myself up as the muscles in my legs strained and my grip on my love tired. His name left my mouth desperately as I climaxed, cussing when the unbearable pleasure continued on for what felt like an eternity.

I couldn't tell you how long we must've stayed there, frozen, dead weight resting against one another. Ricky sloppily kissed me. Though my body was numb, his touch remained electric. I mustered up the last of my strength to pick him up and collapse back onto the bed with him in my arms.

"Fuck." He uttered.

My breaths were heavy. "Warn me next time."

"Where's the fun in that?" His head rested comfortably on my chest, his leg hitching up over my stomach as he cuddled in close.

I laughed, "You have a death wish." We both were two seconds from passing out, I swear. I managed to kiss the top of his head, whispering, "I love you."

He planted a kiss from where he rested on my chest. "I love you, too."