Yeosang ki Lugai

It wasn’t just that he looked good—he always looked good. It was the fact that your body was currently operating on peak ovulation hormones. Every single evolutionary instinct in your DNA was screaming at you, flashing a giant neon sign that pointed directly at your vampire boyfriend. He smelled incredible. He looked incredible. The mere sight of his pale fingers adjusting his cuffs was making you dizzy. You didn’t want him to go to work. In fact, you were ready to fight the entire city of Seoul to keep him in this room.

A wave of heat bloomed beneath your collarbone, rushing upward until your cheeks were burning, thoroughly flushed. Beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, your nipples hardened into tight, sensitive peaks, chafing agonizingly against the cotton with every breath you took. A heavy ache settled deep in your lower stomach, radiating downward until your thighs tensed, unconsciously pressing together to try and soothe the sudden friction building between them.

“I should be back by dawn,” Yeosang said, his voice was smooth as he reached for his watch on the dresser. “The meeting shouldn’t run too late, but you know how the elders love to hear themselves speak.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, staring fixedly at the hollow of his throat. Take me instead, your brain unhelpfully suggested.

Yeosang paused, glancing at you through the mirror. A subtle, knowing smirk playing on his lips. As a vampire, he was acutely aware of the sudden, intense spike in your body chemistry over the last twenty-four hours. He could hear your heart hammering against your ribs, and the scent of a spike in estrogen was practically vibrating in the room. He found it endearing, if a bit distracting. “Are you alright?” he asked, turning around to face you fully. He leaned back against the dresser, crossing his arms. “You’re staring at me like you want to eat me alive. Which is technically my job.”

“You look nice,” you said, your voice a little tighter than usual.

“Thank you, my love.” He smiled, approaching the nightstand to grab his final, most crucial accessory. He swept his hand over the polished wood, searching for the familiar metal. Then, he paused. Yeosang looked down, moved a book, then lifted his charger.

Nothing.

“That’s strange,” his brow furrowed slightly. “Where did I put my daylight ring?” On the bed, you suddenly found the loose thread on your blanket deeply, intensely fascinating. You began to pick at it as Yeosang turned to you slowly, he took in your suddenly rigid posture and the guilty flush creeping up your neck. He let out a soft, amused sigh, walking over to the edge of the bed, stopping right in front of you, the expensive scent of his cologne enveloping your senses. “Darling,” he said softly, his tone gentle, but with a hint of accusation. “Where is my ring?”

“I don’t know,” you lied, looking up at him with the widest, most innocent eyes you could muster. “Did you lose it? Oh no. Guess you can’t go out in the sun. Guess you have to stay inside. In the dark. With me.”

Yeosang closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting out a breath that was half-laugh, half-groan. He knelt down, putting himself at eye level with you. Up close, his beauty was dizzying. “I have to attend the meeting,” he said gently, a playful glint in his eyes. “Considering the sun rose at six in the morning and I’d rather not combust on my way to the office... I’m going to need it back.” 

“No,” you blurted out, abandoning all pretense of innocence.

Yeosang blinked, genuinely surprised by your bluntness. “No?”

“No. If you leave, I’ll die,” you whined, leaning forward and burying your face into his neck, inhaling deeply. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, keeping him in the spot. “You smell too good. You look too good. You are a safety hazard to my sanity. Stay home.”

Yeosang’s hands, cool and soothing against your warm skin, came up to rest on your hips. He didn’t push you away; instead, he tilted his head to give you better access to his neck, his thumb caressing your hip bone through your shirt. “Is that what this is?” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, becoming dangerously smooth. “A hostage situation driven by hormones?”

“Yes,” you mumbled against his skin, kissing the sweet spot right beneath his jaw. Yeosang let out a soft breath, his grip on your hips tightening just a fraction. For a second, his cool, composed exterior wavered. His fangs pricked the inside of his lip as your racing pulse beat frantically against his senses. It was incredibly tempting to just cave in, throw the silk shirt on the floor, and show you exactly what he could do. 

But, he took a slow breath, regaining his signature control. He leaned back just enough to look into your dazed eyes, a devastatingly handsome smirk on his face. “As much as I would love to spend the next several hours answering your... biological demands,” he purred, “I have a business to run. Now, where is the ring?”

You pouted, glaring at him. “I’m not telling.”

Yeosang raised a single eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Darling, if you don’t tell me, I’ll just have to use my compulsion on you. Or worse... I’ll use my supernatural agility to search the room and find it anyway.”

That was the final straw. The threat of him actually leaving—of that gorgeous, silk-clad body walking out the door and leaving you alone with a raging hormonal wildfire—shattered whatever microscopic shred of restraint you had left. With a loud, exasperated groan, you threw yourself back onto the mattress, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, shaking your head side to side into the pillow. “You are the worst,” you whined loudly, glaring daggers at the ceiling. “You’re doing this on purpose! You know exactly what time of the month it is, you know I’m burning up, and you’re just going to work!? In these pants?! It’s literal torture, Yeosang! I hate you! Just get over here and fix it, now!”

From the doorway, you didn’t even know when he get this far, a low, smooth sound cut through your dramatic display. Yeosang hadn’t left yet, he was leaning his tall, elegant frame against the doorframe, arms crossed, deeply amused smirk carved across his handsome face as he watched you writhe and kick around the bed. “Are you quite finished?” he asked, voice completely unbothered. He didn’t look angry; if anything, your little tantrum was only feeding his ego. He took a slow, deliberate step back into the room. “Because watching you throw a tantrum over my pants is easily the most entertaining thing I’ve seen all century.”

You huffed, turning your head away from his gaze and burying your face into a pillow. “I'm not throwing a tantrum,” you mumbled into the fabric.

Yeosang let out a chuckle that sent a shiver straight down your spine. The sound of his dress shoes pressing into the carpet told you he was getting closer, moving with that silent vampire grace. “Right. Of course you aren’t,” the mattress dipped significantly under his weight as he crawled up the bed, looming over your dramatic, face-down form. His cool hand wrapped firmly around your ankle, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin. “Now, are you going to keep kicking my sheets, or are you going to turn around and look at me properly?”

You huffed, keeping your face buried in the pillow, you couldn’t help but kick your free leg a little just to be petty. “I'm not looking at you, you’re mean. Go to your stupid board meeting.” With one effortless yank, he dragged you down the mattress until your hips bumped right against his shins. “Yeosang!” you shrieked, your dramatic scowl returning instantly as you scrambled to sit up, clutching a pillow to your chest like a shield.

He was kneeling over you now. “You’re pouting,” he observed flatly, the corner of his lips twitching upward as he reached out and casually plucked the pillow from your arms, tossing it over his shoulder onto the floor. “It’s a very undignified look for someone who was just trying to boss around a centuries-old vampire.”

“I was not bossing you—”

“You were,” he interrupted, his long fingers wrapping around both of your wrists. He didn’t squeeze, but the weight of his grip was an instant reminder of his power. He leaned down, his face stopping just inches from yours, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “And while I find your little temper tantrum incredibly endearing... my patience for your mouth just ran out, darling.” The playful, teasing warmth in his eyes vanished in a single blink, swallowed instantly by a sudden, pitch-black hunger that made your breath catch right in your throat. The atmosphere in the room shifted, temperature getting lower, so fast it felt like the air pressure dropped.

Your hands grabbed the lapels of his black shirt, your fingers digging into the expensive silk as you crashed into his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around you as you tackled him down, the momentum forcing him flat onto his back. Now, you straddled his hips, pinning his thighs down with yours. The friction of your sensitive skin against his slacks sent a violent jolt of electricity straight to your core. You leaned down, your hands framing his face, your chest heaving against his as you looked down at him with desperation. “I swear to god, Kang Yeosang,” you breathed, “If you don’t put a baby inside me right now, I am the one who is going to combust. Forget the sun!”

Yeosang froze beneath you. For a second, his brain completely short-circuited. He looked up at your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, and the hunger in your eyes. A dangerous heat flared in his chest, instantly obliterating his “businessman” composure. The sharp tips of his fangs elongated, sliding down past his lip, glinting in the dim light of your bedroom. His hands, which had been resting gently on your waist, gripped your hips with bruising intensity, keeping you firmly against his lap—where you could feel the undeniable proof that his “vampiric self-control” had just completely left the building. “A baby? You’re lucky my dead body can’t actually make you pregnant, because with a mouth like that, I would have kept you locked in my bed and dripping with my mess months ago.”

“I don’t care about the logistics!” you shot back, your voice nothing but a desperate whine as you intentionally ground your hips down against his. The friction was dizzying, making your head spin and your cheeks burn hotter. “Work it out! Use your supernatural adaptation! Do something besides standing there looking like a sex god!”

Yeosang’s hips instinctively jerked up to meet yours before he caught himself. His knuckles turned white where they were gripping your waist, his fangs practically scraping his bottom lip. “I am not standing, I am currently pinned to a mattress by a human who weighs a fraction of what I do,” he gasped out, his usual elegant diction disappearing. He glared up at you, though his dark, dilated eyes betrayed how heavily he was affected. “And for the record, this silk shirt was imported from Milan. You are wrinkling it. Horribly.”

“Good! I hope it rips!” You reached down, deliberately tugging at his collar, popping a button that skittered across the hardwood floor. Your sensitive nipples brushed against his solid chest through your shirt, and you let out a frustrated whimpering sound. “Miss your meeting. Let the elders talk to an empty chair. Tell them you were detained by a biological emergency.”

“A biological emergency,” he repeated, a breathless, incredulous laugh escaping him. He tilted his head back against the mattress, looking at you through hooded eyelids. The coldness of his skin was mixed with the roaring heat of yours, creating a scent that was pure sin. “You are completely unhinged when you’re fertile, do you know that? It’s like your self-preservation instincts completely dissolve.”

“They didn’t dissolve, they just pivoted,” you panted, leaning down until your lips were a mere millimeter from his fangs. “My instincts want you. Now are you going to keep lecturing me on silk from Milan, or are you going to do your job?” Yeosang’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked violently near his ear, but he still hesitated, his hands tightening on your hips as he fought the final embers of his restraint. Seeing his hesitation, you let out a sharp, mocking scoff right against his lips. “Unbelievable,” you snapped, your tone dripping with frustrated rudeness. “What’s the matter, Kang? Are you scared? Centuries of being a vampire and you’re getting cold feet because a human girl wants you? Wow. Some predator you are. All talk. Actually, don’t bother. Maybe I should just find a vampire who actually knows what to do with a willing human.”

Yeosang’s entire body went dead silent beneath you. Before you could even blink, the world blurred. Your hands were violently ripped from his collar as he gripped your wrists, his fingers like cuffs. In a single second, the positions reversed. The mattress dipped as he flipped you onto your back, pinning your hands flat against the sheets above your head. He came down over you, his large frame completely trapping your tensed, aching thighs beneath his. “What did you just say?” his voice dropped into a terrifyingly low, lethal register.

“You heard me,” you snapped, your attitude completely taking over. “Get off me. You’re boring. Go to your little business meeting and leave me alone since you clearly can’t handle—”

You didn’t even get to finish the insult. Yeosang’s grip on your wrists tightened so violently the bones in your hands practically creaked, cutting off your words as he slammed your arms even harder into the mattress.

That was it. The absolute limit.

“You think I’m boring?” he leaned down, his face stopping barely an inch from yours, cold breath fanning over your flushed skin. “You think you can just go out and find another vampire to shove his cock inside you? You think anyone else is allowed to touch this filthy, desperate little pussy of yours?”

“Yeo—”

“Enough.”

Yeosang hovered inches above you, his chest heavy with anger. His hair fell wildly around his face, and his eyes were entirely black, the irises swallowed by his pupils. The sharp points of his fangs were fully bared, pressing down over his bottom lip. There was no more elegance left in him; he looked terrifying, and deeply offended. “You’ve gotten incredibly bold. You think because I indulge your little human whims that I’ve forgotten what I am?” His grip on your wrists tightened just enough to remind you exactly who held the power in this room. “Let me show you exactly what I can do,” he hissed against your skin, his lips moving down to press hard, bruising kisses against the frantic pulse point of your neck. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember what day of the week it is, let alone your own name. You want a predator? You’ve got one.”

“Yeosang—” you choked out, the mockery instantly evaporating from your tongue.

“Don’t speak,” he commanded, the velvet edge of his voice clipping your words right out of the air. He didn’t just kiss your neck; he marked it. His lips were firm, dragging a trail of heavy kisses from the soft skin beneath your ear down to the sensitive dip of your collarbone. Every time his fangs lightly grazed you, a violent, desperate shiver racked your entire frame. Your nipples, already tight and aching against the cotton of your oversized shirt, practically throbbed with the friction. Your thighs, still trapped beneath the rigid weight of his slacks, tensed instinctively. You tried to arch up, tried to grind the heavy, empty ache in your lower stomach against his lap to find some semblance of relief, but Yeosang shifted his weight, completely shutting down your movement. “Hold still. You wanted the predator, remember? A predator dictates the pace. You don’t get to move until I tell you to.”

Your cheeks were burning as you swallowed hard, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips. “You’re... you’re still wearing your shirt,” you pointed out trying to regain a microscopic shred of your previous bravado. “Hard to be a beast when you’re buttoned up.”

Yeosang slowly released one of your wrists, though the implicit warning in his gaze kept your hand frozen on the sheet. His fingers moved down to his own collar. With a single, sharp jerk, he didn’t just unbutton the shirt—he ripped it open. The remaining buttons tore from the black silk, scattering across the bed with a series of soft, chaotic thuds, exposing the flawless, pale skin of his hard chest. “Is that better, darling?” he leaned back down, grabbed your free hand, and guided it up until your fingers touched his hard muscles. “Now, tell me exactly where you hid my ring, or I’m going to make you beg for it.” 

You stared up at him, your vision completely hazy as the cool expanse of his bare chest pressed flat against your burning skin. The contrast was too good. With your hand resting against his abdominal muscles, you didn’t want to play games anymore. The hidden daylight ring felt like a stupid, distant memory compared to the reality of him pinned over you with his shirt torn open. “It’s under the mattress,” you gasped out, completely abandoning the secret. “On your side. Under the corner. Just take it.”

A triumphant, devastating smirk cut across Yeosang’s sharp face. “Good girl.” He didn’t move to get it. He didn’t care about the ring anymore, and you both knew it. Instead, his hand slid down from your wrist, his veins-prominent fingers tangling firmly into the hem of your oversized t-shirt. With one tug, he bunched the fabric up, dragging it over your ribs and tossing it blindly off the bed. A second later, Yeosang came back down over you. Your thighs tensed, instantly flaring wide to welcome his weight as he slid perfectly between your knees. “You’re shaking,” Yeosang murmured against your lips. His fingers moved to your jaw, his grip firm, forcing you to look directly into his pitch-black eyes. “Still thinking you want someone else?”  

“Shut up,” you breathed, your fingers digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders, your hips instinctively arching up to grind against him. “Please, Yeosang, just shut up and—”

“And what?” he interrupted, his thumb pressing firmly against your bottom lip, dragging it down to expose your teeth. “You’re incredibly lucky I’m in a hurry. If I didn’t have the high-ups waiting on me, I would spend the entire day teaching you how to speak to me properly.”

You let out a frustrated, needy whine, your hips jerking up against his again. “Then stop talking and do it.”

“Oh, I am,” he purred, “but since we’re on a schedule, I’ll just have to make this efficient. And incredibly loud.” He leaned down, his lips crushing against yours in a kiss that was pure dominance. It wasn’t the gentle, romantic kissing you were used to; this was deep, and possessive. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting the frantic heat of your breath, while his large hands slid down to grip your hips, lifting you slightly off the mattress, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. Yeosang didn’t bother sliding them down. With a single, effortless twitch of his wrist, the supernatural strength of his grip flexed, and the delicate fabric tore down the seams. Before the shredded scraps of lace could even drift to the floor, Yeosang’s hand cupped your inner thigh, fingers digging in just enough to force your legs wider. He didn’t touch your wetness yet, intentionally leaving you empty, hovering right on the edge. “Look at you,” he murmured, his dark eyes staring down at where your thighs were trembling violently against his slacks. “So loud and mouthy a second ago, and now your cunt is wet, begging for me. Where did all that attitude go, darling? Did it rip along with your underwear?”

“Yeosang, please,” you whined, your previous cockiness completely evaporating as you clawed at the hard muscles of his shoulders, your hips instinctively arching up, trying to force yourself against his hand.

“Uh-uh. No moving,” he commanded, using his weight to press your hips flat into the mattress, completely immobilizing you. “You wanted to act like a brat and insult me, so now you get to lay there and wait. Every time you buck your hips without my permission, I’m adding five minutes to how long I make you wait.”

You bit your lip, a frustrated, tearful sob catching in your throat. Your core was slick, aching, and completely empty, throbbing so much that it felt like actual torture. “You said you were in a hurry,” you choked out, trying to use his own words against him.

Yeosang leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your burning ear. “I am in a hurry,” he whispered maliciously, fingers slowly tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, too close to your heat yet never touching it. “But I will gladly be late to the most important meeting of the year if it means teaching you some manners. Now... are you going to behave, or do I need to keep your hands pinned above your head the entire time?”

You bit your bottom lip so hard you could taste the faint, metallic tang of your own blood. Being so close to him, so utterly exposed and yet completely denied, was driving you absolutely insane. Your inner thighs tensed, trembling under his fingers. “I’ll behave,” you choked out, the words a total surrender. “I’ll behave, just... please.”

Yeosang’s eyes tracked the frantic rise and fall of your chest. The flush on your cheeks was beautiful crimson, and the scent of your arousal was filling the room, entirely overpowering the expensive cologne on his skin. “Good girl,” the praise was dripping with authority that offered no real gentleness. He slowly released his iron grip on your wrists, but you didn’t dare move them from above your head. You knew better. His fingers slid up the inside of your thigh, finally—finally—brushing against your slick, burning folds. A high moan escaped your throat as his fingers slid through your wetness. The sudden friction was intense, making your lower stomach cramp with pleasure. You instinctively tried to lift your hips into his hand, but Yeosang immediately growled, pressing his palm hard against your lower belly to lock you flat against the sheets. “What did I say about moving?” he hissed against your lips, his fangs grazing your skin just enough to send a thrilling spike through your veins. “Do you want me to tie your hands to the headboard?”

“No,” you whimpered, your fingers blindly clutching at the silk sheets above your head, your toes curling as he began a slow, deep rhythm with two of his fingers. He was soaking himself in you, coating his pale fingers in your heat.

“Look at how wet you are for me,” Yeosang’s voice dropped into that deep, ruined register that made you feel dizzy. “Completely ruined before I’ve even touched you. You’re lucky you smell so sweet, or I’d leave you like this all day.” He pulled his fingers out with a wet, squelching sound that made your face burn a furious red. Before you could even register the loss, Yeosang shifted his weight. His hands flew to the zipper of his slacks, freeing his heavy length. He came down over you fully, and positioned his blunt tip right at your entrance, pressing against your slick folds, threatening to tear right through whatever sanity you had left.  “Open your eyes,” he commanded, his hand gripping your jaw firmly, tilting your face up. “Watch a boring vampire take you.”

You swallowed hard, your eyes completely unfocused as his tip pressed right against your entrance. You could feel him twitching against your slick skin, and the desperate, empty ache between your thighs was screaming for him to just drive himself inside. But the barrier of his clothes was driving you insane. You hated it. You hated that he was still half-dressed, that there was expensive silk of his shirt and wool of his slacks keeping you from touching him properly while you were completely exposed and melting beneath him. Your hands flew to his shoulders, fingers frantically clawing at the sleeves of his black shirt, trying to rip the fabric away from his skin. “Clothes,” you gasped out, your voice breaking as your other hand blindly scrambled downward, clawing at the waistband of his slacks, trying to shove the heavy material down his hips. “Clothes off, Sangie... please. Let me touch you... I want to see you.”

Yeosang let out a low, mocking chuckle, he didn’t help you. Instead, he grabbed both of your wrists in one hand, easily pinning them back down to the mattress above your head, completely rendering your desperate hands useless. “Oh, absolutely not,” a devastating, cruel little smirk curved around his fangs. His dark eyes hooded as he looked down at your flushed, helpless face. “You don’t get to see me, darling. You don’t get the privilege of having me completely bare for you.”

“Why?” you whimpered, a tear of pure, frustrated desperation leaking from the corner of your eye as your hips instinctively twitched against his heavy tip.

“Because you were a rude little whore,” he whispered maliciously, leaning down until his lips were brushing against your ear, making your sensitive skin break out in goosebumps. “So this is your punishment. You get stripped bare, completely exposed, while I stay perfectly put-together. You don’t get to touch me where you want. And you definitely don’t get to call me ‘Sangie’ until you learn some manners.” To prove his point, he shifted his weight, his grip on your jaw tightening just a fraction to keep your eyes locked onto his pitch-black stare. “Now stop crying and open your legs wider for me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, please let me touch you—”

“Too late for an apology, darling.” He didn’t give you another second. With a single, brutal tilt of his hips, Yeosang drove himself straight inside, burying his thick length into you all the way to the hilt. The ruthless entry stretched your slick walls so wide and so suddenly that a scream was ripped right out of your throat. Your back arched off the mattress, your toes curling as pleasure completely took over your body. You were entirely filled, your internal muscles desperately convulsing and clamping around his cock, squeezing his length tightly. But if you thought he was going to hold still and let you adjust, you were completely wrong. Yeosang didn’t pause for a single fraction of a second. The moment he hit your depth, he let out a dark, ragged growl against your mouth and immediately pulled back, only to slam right back into you with punishing force.

“Yeosang—wait—!” you sobbed, your head thrashing against the pillow as the overwhelming friction of his pace began to tear through your sanity.

“I told you, I’m in a hurry,” he growled, the veins along his chest and neck bulged violently. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he leaned down, chest crushing your sensitive breasts, lips pressing a hard, possessive kiss right against your trembling jaw. “Look at how perfectly you take me. You were made for this.” His thrusts were heavy, deep, and punishingly fast, his slacks-clad thighs slapping bruisingly against your bare, trembling legs with every drive. Your head thrashed against the pillow, your vision dissolving into a blur of tears and heat as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. Your fingers clawed blindly at the sheets trapped beneath the weight of his hand, every single move of his hips was driving deeply into your core. The contrast of his cool, bare torso grinding against your flushed, burning skin was a sensory overload, melting whatever microscopic shred of coherent thought you had left into a puddle of pure desperation.

Yeosang looked down at you through a curtain of blonde hair, the corners of his lips were pulled back, bared fangs gleaming with venom as he watched your lips part in a string of breathless, incoherent whimpers. “Look at me.” He didn’t wait for you to comply. He released his grip on your wrists, only to slide his hand down to grab your jaw, his fingers digging into your skin to force your head back against the pillow. His other hand flew to your knee, hooking behind it and shoving your leg up, pinning it high against his ribcage to angle your pelvis perfectly for his next, devastatingly deep thrust.

“Y-Yeosang—I can’t—” you cried out, a loud, wet sob escaping your throat as he hammered into you, hitting a sensitive nerve, sending a violent, electric shockwave straight to your lower stomach.

“You can,” he hissed, his thumb pressing into your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his dark gaze. “You’re going to take every single inch of me. This is exactly what you begged for. Tell me how it feels to be handled by a vampire who doesn’t know what to do with a willing human.” The mocking, arrogant edge in his tone was the ultimate blow. You let out a broken, high-pitched moan as a sudden, intense wave of heat bloomed at the base of your spine, pressure building too fast, the friction of his pace driving you straight toward a violent climax that you couldn’t control. “Fuck—I’m going to—” you gasped, your eyes rolling back as your thighs began to shake uncontrollably against his sides.

“Not yet,” his grip on your jaw tightened just enough to pull you back from the edge. He intentionally altered his rhythm, pulling almost entirely out of your slick, swollen cunt before driving back in with a grinding slow-motion depth. “You don’t get to come until I tell you to. Hold it in.” The cruelty of the denial made tears pour freely down your flushed cheeks. He could hear the frantic, erratic stutter of your heart beating, and the power of having you completely at his mercy, totally undone by his touch, made his cock twitch. He leaned down, lips slamming back over yours in a kiss that was punishing, and utterly possessive. His tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim your desperate cries while his hips resumed that frantic, brutal pace. The slacks covering his legs chafed against your bare, sensitive inner thighs with every thrust, reminding you of what you couldn’t see, or touch. You were drowning in him, totally consumed by the strength of a vampire who had abandoned his restraint just to break your attitude. The bedroom was filled with the wet sound of his thrusts, that echoed in your ears as he relentlessly drove you closer to the peak. You were entirely at his mercy, trapped beneath his marble-cool skin, as he ruthlessly claimed every single inch of your slick, swollen heat.

Yeosang’s fangs were grazing the skin of your neck with a menacing pressure that made you whimper. He could feel the tight, erratic fluttering of your internal muscles, the desperate way your walls were spasming around him, begging for the release he was so cruelly withholding. “You’re right on the edge, aren’t you?” He suddenly slowed his pace, barely shifting inside you, keeping his thick length buried deep but entirely denying you the friction you were dying for. “So desperate,” he whispered maliciously, his pitch-black eyes drinking in your tears. “Did you learn your lesson? Tell me you’re sorry for being such a rude whore earlier.”

You sobbed, your hands blindly reaching up to grip his bicep through the fabric of the shirt, your hips instinctively twitching in a useless, frantic attempt to force him to move. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry, Sangie. Please.”

He liked the apology, but he wasn’t done playing with your obedience just yet. He reached down between your bodies, his hand sliding over your stomach to rub your swollen clit in a tight circle while his hips remained completely still inside you. The sudden friction was so intense it felt like an electric shock. He didn’t even need to thrust anymore; the rhythm of his thumb against your slick skin was a total overload to your nervous system. “Wet, desperate, and completely open for me. Is this what you want? Do you want me to put a baby in you?” 

“Yes—yes!” you sobbed out, your hips trying to buck against his stillness. “Knock me up, Yeosang... please. Put it inside me. Please, just fill me up!”

Hearing you beg for something his dead body couldn’t technically give you—yet wanting it so desperately anyway—completely shattered his remaining control. “Let it go,” Yeosang commanded, his dark eyes boring into yours, watching the exact moment your sanity shattered. “Come for me, darling.” That was the final straw. You let out a broken, wet sob as your orgasm ripped through your entire body. Your internal muscles locked down around his buried length in a grip that went on and on, shaking with the force of your own release.

The intense squeezing of your climax was the final straw for Yeosang. Moving his hand from your heat to grip your hip, he slammed into you with a frantic, punishing speed, pushing himself as deeply inside you as possible. “F-fuck... breeding you... right to the hilt...” At the exact same microsecond, the blinding rush of his orgasm sent his instincts into a total frenzy. He lunged downward, his mouth slamming against the side of your neck.

Crack.

A sharp spike of pain flashed through you as his fangs pierced clean through the soft skin of your pulse point, immediately followed by a wave of euphoria as his venom flooded your veins. You let out a loud, strangled shriek against his shoulder, your fingers clawing uselessly into the fabric of his shirt as his throat began to work. He was drinking you down, a greedy gulping sound right against your ear, pulling your hot blood into his body. Inside you, the burning volume of his release was filling you to the absolute hilt. Yeosang was completely emptying himself into you, his hips twitching while his mouth ruthlessly drained you. “Good girl... squeeze me like that... take every fucking drop...” Yeosang growled against your bloody skin, the words ruined as he muddled his release with his feeding. 

The combination of the blood loss and the intense heat filling your core was too much for your human body to process. Your vision dissolved into a beautiful, hazy blur of stars. You were completely at his mercy—being filled at one end while being drained at the other, completely claimed by him. He took three more heavy gulps of your blood before his fangs slowly slid out of your flesh. Yeosang collapsed fully against you, his heavy frame completely pinning you into the mattress. He stayed buried deep inside you, keeping you completely filled, his blonde hair damp and tangled against your neck.