Karolina

Willow's over it. She's barely seen Sasha outside of the club in weeks now that the Sheriff has been keeping him busy. The beast is clawing at her insides, aching for a chance to bear its teeth. Tonight, she's going to take care of it. Needs to take care of it. Either Sasha's going to take some time for a dinner date, or she's hunting by herself.

Sasha's out again. Left her a text saying he'd be gone until later on a business thing, which she knows to mean the Sheriff's hounding him about something or another. So Willow finds a cute little dress in her closet, slides into her most comfortable heels. Makes sure her best assets are on display before she heads out the door.

The club isn't far and Willow makes all heads turn upon entry. She scans the room, eyes hungry, a predator assessing potential prey. Where her criteria are generally a lot more open, today she needs her fix. She notices the illicit substances being exchanged in the darker corners of the club. The people who are mostly there to look cool on Instagram and TikTok. The ones who don't want to be seen. Her staff, trying their best to look busy even though Willow can't be bothered to police them.

She spots the ideal prey in a corner. A guy, probably a new student in the city. Definitely not her usual type. Definitely exactly what would piss Sasha off if he knew. He's scrawny, the odd one out in both dress and energy. If she approached— No. When she approaches him, that pleases her beast a lot more. Willow turns on the charm even more. Blush of Life brings a pink tint to her cheeks. She snatches a glass of beer off a serving tray with a grin and a wink and heads right for him. She basks in the attention of people's eyes on her. She takes note of the way the guy looks around somewhat nervously after they lock eyes for the first time. His shave job's messy. He swallows thickly when she gets too close for his comfort, but he too cannot keep her out of his gaze.

"Hey~, want a drink?" She addresses him in English, deciding tonight she'll be the interesting American tourist who inexplicably knows her way around the Amsterdam nightlife. It's not like he'll remember her story when she's done with him, anyway.

He accepts the drink with a small tremble, she watches him gulp and spill just a bit of beer onto his shirt. His friends — or at least the guys he came here with — are joking around, just out of his earshot. She hears them clearly enough, though, and she's determined to let them know what she does.

"It's kinda loud down here, huh?" She speaks in a softer tone than she did initially, exaggerating her point. "What are you saying?" "It's kinda loud!" He nods, somewhat timid while she hears his company hollering in the background. Willow rolls her eyes internally, her smile sly as she leans in closer to his ear. "Wanna go upstairs? It's less loud there." She rests her lips against his ear for just a second, notices his heart rate spike with her action, before she reaches out her freed hand.

He's all too eager to take it.

She drags him away, dances him across the dance floor while his mates call out to him. She makes sure to stay ahead of him, nodding towards the bouncers watching the stairwell heading up to the VIP-lounge. He follows her like a puppy, unsure of where he can and cannot go. The noise levels on the second floor are a lot more pleasant. The guy introduces himself as Rogier, attempts to flirt with her. And honestly? Willow is over it already.

He sets off to one of the booths eagerly, but Willow tugs at his arm instead. He's incredibly boring, his voice grates into her eardrums. Her initial plan's adjusted. She wants to get this over with, sooner rather than later. Casually, she leads him off to a 'staff only'-door. She turns to him, smiles her brightest smile and locks eyes with him.

"Whatever happens behind this door, stays behind this door, understood? We just had some fun on this floor, your friends don't need to know the details."

She watches his gaze go out of focus briefly before he nods, the tell-tale sign that her command took hold. Then she pulls her keys out of her pocket and drags him into the office space.

If it were up to her beast, she'd have slammed him right against the door the second they're in the hallway, but she's still in control enough to scheme. And Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. The guy's nervously babbling away as Willow pulls him through the hallway, until she finds the office she's looking for. Sasha's name is on the door, and she smiles to herself. This'll teach him.

"Uhuh— how about less talking~?" God, she wants him to shut up. She tugs him into the office, then pretty much jumps him. He's caught off guard, stumbles into the wall before he gathers himself enough to grab onto her thighs.

Willow goes right in, kisses him on the mouth and slides a hand under his shirt. Her beast wants, craves more, tells her to just plant her fangs into his neck right away. And this guy—did he ever tell her his name? Eh, who cares— clearly wants more, too. She can feel his cock hardening in his pants when she shifts against him, pressing herself closer as she tugs at his bottom lip. His eyes are closed. Figures. His stubble's uncomfortable against her skin and it doesn't take long for her to figure out he's not a good kisser, either. There's a lot of tongue action, too deep in her mouth, and she nips at it slightly in an attempt to teach him how to go about it.

With that, a hint of iron settles in their kiss. Willow's beast growls in the back of her head, a sound she mimics involuntarily, but which he clearly interprets as a moan. It echoes in his throat, his cock pressing against her panties through multiple layers of cloth.

She wriggles back onto the ground, tilts her head into the direction of Sasha's office chair, and the guy eagerly rushes over, unbuckling his pants on the way. Willow watches with some disdain, then shakes her displeasure off her face and follows him to it. He leans back, beckons her over as if she's not the one in charge. There's little Willow hates more, but the beast needs to be fed.

She climbs on top of him again, reaches back to pull a drawer in the desk open and pulls a condom out. Her other hand presses against his bulge, his member twitching under her touch. He moans loudly, rocking his hips into her touch. The wetness of his pre-cum an unpleasant texture on her hand.

Willow leans in then, kisses along his jaw to his neck, then finds the perfect spot to dig her fangs in. The blood rushes into her mouth, the first real pleasure she gets from him. He's into it, too. She can tell by the way he's pushing into her hand. She rolls her eyes, slides her hand into his underwear to grab a hold of his balls instead.

When she reluctantly pulls away from his neck to slide his shirt over his head and kiss further down, she can see the desperation in his eyes. She pulls down his underwear then, rips the condom open with her teeth. It's not the right size for him, but it'll have to do. He does not need to know that there's no risk in this activity other than him losing his sanity pining after a vampire, or his life.

His hands are all over her in return. He's struggling with the zipper of her dress. He's squeezing at her breasts as if they're stress toys. He's messing up her hair. Willow plays along, gasps when his hands are on her neck as if she needs air to live, figures that's the least she can do for him.

When his eager fingers tug at her panties, she lets him do so. She's not as wet as she should to sell the act, but it is evident this guy is too into it to notice. He pulls them to the side, slams his dick into her without much further notice. She's convinced the only action he's had until now has come from porn. But she can sell the act. She moans, rocks her hips into his to ride his cock as he writhes and moans and whimpers under her. His head is thrown back, his eyes are closed and she can just about count the beads of sweat on his forehead.

Willow's glad when he reaches his climax within two minutes. He thrusts halfheartedly into her to ride out the orgasm, then just about collapses into the desk chair. He opens his eyes partially, glancing in her direction with a lazy smile on his face before he speaks:

"Did you cum?"