Senjuro ended up departing for a neighbor’s after dinner, and the Rengoku patriarch retired to bed not long after. Though the two of you should have been well on your way home, Kyojuro had gotten distracted.

“I thought of you all through dinner,” his breath is hot against your ear. One hand flips up the skirt of your sundress as the other fumbles with his belt. “How you sat there, talking to my father and brother while my seed leaked out of you.”

“Kyojuro — oh —“ you’re cut off by his bruising, rough kiss. You break away only with a sharp gasp as your fiance’s practiced fingers drag over the lacy seam of your underwear, your hips bucking into his touch. His mouth only slopes messily down your neck. Kyojuro growls into your skin in approval at the wetness he finds between your legs — a mixture of his cum and your renewed arousal.

“You drive me wild,” the leather around his hips gives way, and his fingers are nimble as they unfasten the top button of his pants.

You can’t hide the way your mouth runs dry, or how your thighs unconsciously press together as Kyojuro pulls his stiffened cock free. A thrill flutters in your stomach at the thought of getting on your knees before him and offering your mouth for his use. That excitement is doubled at the prospect of being inside your future father-in-law’s study, a place you wouldn’t have dared to venture had Kyojuro not led you here by the hand.

But that arousal grinds to a sharp halt when Kyojuro’s fingers curl under the edge of your underwear and yank them down your legs. A quick rustle of fabric indicates he’s shoved them into the pocket of his loosened pants, for safe-keeping.

Kyojuro gives himself a firm pump before lining himself up with your entrance.

“This is — Kyo — your father’s study —“

“I’m aware.” With one mighty thrust of his hips, he forces himself to the hilt inside you. “Keep quiet, my Flame.”

Once he’s confirmed that your hand is braced steadily behind you on the rich mahogany of his father’s desk, Kyojuro pulls back, his fingers deftly pushing the straps of your sundress from your shoulders. He tugs the bodice down to your waist and your breasts pebble at the sudden exposure to the warm air of the home office.

Kyojuro hums at the sight of the marks he’d left behind; the way the light from the fire dances across your exposed skin.

He begins with shallow thrusts that grow deeper, more forceful with every passing moment. Before long, you’re forced to smother your whimpers against the thick curve of his shoulder, your fingers curling under the edge of the desk as it rocks and creaks with his movements.

“Fuck, my love,” Kyojuro groans into your hair. “God, you feel too fucking good to stop.”

He must be desperate, you decide, given the way he steadily lets his weight fall into you until you’re forced back against the flat surface of the desk. If you weren’t too busy muffling your sounds of pleasure by burying your teeth into your bottom lip, you would’ve smiled. Kyojuro was so adorable when he was like this; when he gave into his more base desires to rut fast and deep.

Your fiance quiets his own euphoria by sealing his mouth against your throat. His moans rumble across your skin, chased by alternating flicks of his tongue nips of his teeth His hands grip you firmly by your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, anchoring you to him as he pushes faster and deeper into you.

A floorboard nearby creaks, but neither of you notice; you’re too enraptured in one another, your body already thrumming with a need for more that hot, saltiness you can’t help but crave that you know Kyojuro won’t be able to resist giving you.

Thank goodness for the card of neat little pills waiting on your nightstand at home; though you’d likely be pushing your luck, you’re optimistic that your fiancé will give you his fill and still get you back in time for you to take your birth control.

Kyojuro tears his mouth away from your neck and straightens, his nails digging into your hips as he jerks you to meet his bruising thrusts.

“What do you think, Father?” Kyojuro’s jovial tone makes you freeze and the sweat which has begun to cling to your skin turns cold. “Is the view better than you imagined?”

Instantly you jolt up, clinging to Kyojuro’s massive frame in an effort to keep yourself concealed.

A dismissive scoff sounds from a distant corner of the study. “It certainly isn’t worse.”

Dread curdles in your stomach as Kyojuro’s father steps out of the shadows. His face is hard and severe, even as he draws closer to the fireplace adjacent to his desk, the light of the flames offering no warmth.

You begin to squirm against Kyojuro, who is bewilderingly still buried snugly inside your warmth. Your anxious little taps against his chest, his shoulders, however, do nothing to spur him into action, no matter how you urge him away.

“Now, now, my Flame,” your fiancé tuts, quelling your protests with a warning thrust, shallow, but firm enough to cease your squirming. “You cannot deny you’ve been tempting him.”

Across the richly manicured office, the elder Rengoku’s eyes burn in silent agreement.

“In fact, I seem to recall you mentioning how fuckable you thought he still was.”

Your mouth falls open in horror. Not only was it an exaggeration of what you’d actually said (he could still get it, don’t you think?), but you’d said it to tease Kyojuro. In private.

“And I think we both know this little dress of yours was intentional. You know how we love red.”

Shane burns in your cheeks. You did. You’d worn the red sundress to bait your fiancé, but you’d also done it knowing the significance of the color red in the Rengoku family. And while your comment about the fuckability of the family’s patriarch had mostly been lighthearted, some part of you had always been curious.

Perhaps Kyojuro was right; maybe you’d been enticing the senior Rengoku just as much as you had his son.

But there’s a faint tinge of jealousy in Kyojuro’s tone that has your heart thumping madly against your sternum. It’s the kind he rarely showed even when you were openly flirted with in front of him, whether the two of you were out on a romantic dinner or simply running errands together. A sort of dominance that only ever manifested when Kyojuro perceived a threat — a person whose eyes lingered too long, or when someone simply got too close for comfort.

It is that possessive anger which shows now that his competition is his own father. Perhaps he is hoping the elder will be exactly that — an old man, limited in his age and unable to satisfy you the way Kyojuro knows how. Though, from your blushing once-over of Shinjuro’s form where he waits across the study, you quietly think perhaps Kyojuro has underestimated his father. While he may indulge in his stash of fine alcohol too often, Shinjuro remains agile as ever, his body, strong.

Your curiosity flames, lashing at you until it can no longer be ignored. For every way Kyojuro’s personality contrasted heavily with his father’s, you could not help but wonder whether that opposition continued in other areas. Namely, the way Kyojuro’s switch flipped the second you got him alone, riled up and heated was in diametric opposition to his ordinarily warm and sweet disposition.

Because, no matter how gentle and kind and warm Kyojuro was, rile him up enough and he turned into a downright fiend when left alone with you.

Shinjuro, in contrast, was anything but sunny and cheerful. At best, he was a crass old man with a habit of letting alcohol loosen his already too loose tongue. Assuming consistency was a variable in play, perhaps that meant he would be softer; more gentle.

Despite your embarrassment at having been discovered, you cannot deny your own longing.

Kyojuro grinds once more into you before withdrawing from your heat entirely. You wince at the loss of his warmth, fingers clawing at air to bring him back, to cover you with the safety of his body once more, but he only steps aside.

“If you’re gonna fuck in my house, little girl, then you’re gonna have to abide by my rules.” Shinjuro’s voice carries that deadly sort of authority you’d only ever heard him assert when dealing with business, and it’s severe enough that you find your spine straightening in answer. “And I believe in sharing.”

Your mouth falls open as though you have any basis to protest when you’ve been caught red-handed, but Shinjuro cuts you off.

“That’s my rule from now on.” He looks to his son. “You fuck her in my house, then it’s free use. That includes your brother, once he’s an adult. Don’t like it? keep it in your fuckin’ pants.”

Shinjuro’s attention slides back to you, and a sharp flutter shoots through the pit of your stomach at the leering desire in his eyes. “And I don’t care if you’re here visiting with your future kids. I’ll fuck you once they’re asleep.“

Any cautious optimism you had that Shinjuro might embrace the softer side of intimacy flew right out the delicately arched window of his study.

And yet, your curiosity lingers.

Hesitantly, you lower your eyes and see the rigid bulge straining against the seat of his pants. It looks almost identical to Kyojuro’s, but from your quick assessment, it seems his father boasts a greater thickness.

The thought of how that thickness might feel, buried inside your makes, makes your mouth go dry.

Warm, gentle fingers catch your chin. “Only if you want to.”

It is a whisper only meant for you to hear, and suddenly, some of your anxiety eases. You know, by the burning sincerity in his eyes, that if this truly was beyond your realm of comfort, Kyojuro would cut it off without you needing to even utter your safe word.

With a light gulp, you nod, the movement almost as imperceptible as Kyojuro’s eyes become unreadable. But he says nothing more; instead, Kyojuro merely steps away, leaving no barrier between you and his father. Predator and prey.

Self-consciousness has your arm jumping to lock itself over your chest, a futile attempt to conceal what has already been exposed.

Shinjuro stalks silently across the rug, drawing short of where you’re still spread atop the edge of his desk. The shadows dancing along the walls of his study do not conceal the way his tongue flicks out from between his lips, moistening them, the longer he stares between your parted thighs. You clench around nothing under the heat of Shinjuro’s gaze, and his eyes narrow like he knows.

Some of that burning desire tempers as Shinjuro’s eyes flick to your face. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

The abruptness of the question catches you off guard, and you’re shaking your head before you remember to demand why he’s asking in the first place.

Shinjuro’s eyes harden. “You’ve had the nerve to fuck this girl under my roof and you still haven’t knocked her up?” He scoffs, turning his attention back to his son. “I impregnated your mother the first time I brought her here. Have you no shame?”

A quiet anger simmers in Kyojuro’s eyes. “She’s on birth control.”

“No fuckin’ excuse,” Shinjuro pushes past his eldest, his eyes locked between your thighs, still spread wide. “The Rengoku family is known for its virility. You’ve embarrassed that legacy. Go sit down.”

Wordlessly, Kyojuro backs away, his anger burning hotly on his face. He crosses to one of the great, stuffed leather armchairs to the side of the hearth where the fire roars and settles in, his eyes bright.

Shinjuro turns his ire back to you. “You see that ring on your finger? The one paid for with our family’s money?” And your eyes drop to the beautiful engagement ring sitting on your left hand, placed there by Kyojuro. “That’s not just a gift, sweetheart. Deal was you get the ring and you give this family your womb.”

Some fiery, rebellious part of you balks at that, overtakes your own common senses. “The wedding is still a few months away.”

“You think that fuckin’ matters? That ring means you’re part of this family, little girl. And being in this family means pulling your weight.”

He reaches for you then, and it takes a concentrated amount of effort to not flinch away from him, no matter how wetness pools between your legs.

Shinjuro’s fingers curl around your forearm, tugging it away to expose your breasts.

“Not bad.” He clicks his tongue. He palms one in his hand, rolling it, pinching it between rough yet warm fingers, as though testing it. With an alarming swiftness, the tension in your limbs eases, your body turning pliant and supple under his touch, confident and knowing. The faint moans trembling in your throat under your future-in-law’s inspections quickly choke off with a yelp as Shinjuro gives one tit a firm slap.

He smirks. “They’ll be better once you’re good and fat with a kid. What, with your milk and all.” He closes his eyes and shudders. “So fuckin’ sweet. I couldn’t get enough of it with Rukka.”

Shinjuro jerks his head at Kyojuro where he settles into the great leather armchair by the mantle. “He’ll like it, too. Little degenerate, just like his old man.”

He fondles you once more, pulling a small whimper from you that makes him smirk. Shinjuro eyes one of the hickeys near the top of your nipple, left behind by Kyojuro’s earlier attentions and with a faint sneer, he flicks it.

You gasp and arch into him, goosebumps skittering along your skin and you quietly present yourself for more. The way he continues to palm you — rolling each breast in his hand, testing its weight — leaves you with the distinct impression that you’re little more than some prized brooding mare and he, your inspector. That feeling is only amplified when Shinjuro suddenly grabs your hips and forces you back against his desk, maneuvering your body in different positions to see how you bend.

“Arches her back nicely,” he remarks casually, as though discussing something as tepid as the weather. “Feels flexible, too. But none of that means shit if she’s not fertile.”

Shinjuro steps back, his hands planted on his hips, expectant. “Let’s see what we’re working with, girl. On the floor,” When you don’t move, too frozen atop the desk and uncertain of what he’s asking, he nods at the rug. “Go on — present yourself for me. Need to inspect the goods.”

With shaking legs, you lower yourself off the desk. Cheeks flushed with heat, you cast one last, anxious glance at your fiancé. Kyojuro, however, says nothing, his eyes boring into yours as he waits.

You’re doing this; you’re actually doing this. You are willingly lowering yourself to the great, ornate rug sprawled across the floor of the study, knees first, and then your hands, followed by your forearms.

Your heart hammers away at your chest as you wait, ass held high in the air, your cunt on open display. A soft thump of a body lowering itself behind you is followed by rough fingers that spread your ass cheeks, forcing your thighs to shift and widen. The faintest tickle of warm breath fans over your heated, drooling center, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying out in desperation.

“Pretty little pussy,” Shinjuro hums with faint appreciation. Two, thick fingers swipe harshly through your dampened folds, spreading your wetness from your clit to your entrance. “Glad he at least knows how to get you warmed up. You’re fucking soaked.”

His fingers circle your opening, pressing against it just enough to make you squirm into the rug, but not enough to alleviate the nearly painful way your cunt continues to flutter and clench around nothing.

“How does she take it — oh,” you can hear Shinjuro’s leering smirk as he slips his finger inside your fluttering entrance. “Sucked me right in. Least she knows what to do when she’s got somethin’ in her.”

He pumps another finger lazily into you as you moan your encouragement. “Does she taste as sweet as she smells?” Shinjuro’s voice is faintly hoarse as he addresses his son.

There’s a pause that seems to stretch on for an eternity. “Sweeter.” Comes Kyojuro’s answer, strained, though you cannot see his face from where his father has crowded you into the rug. “Father —“

“I ain’t gonna taste her.” Shinjuro brushes off your fiancé’s warning, flippant. “Don’t need to. She’s ready for a good breeding, I can tell just by the smell of her.” A sharp slap of a hand against your sex pulls a yelp from you, and yet you can’t stop from wiggling your hips in a silent plea for more. “But you have failed your duty in bringing about the next generation of our family. You both have.”

There’s a rustle of clothing behind you followed by the distinct click of a belt buckle. “So I’m correcting it.”

Shinjuro’s fingers find your clit again, his quiet signal that he is addressing you even though he turns your brain to mush beneath his expert touch. “Looks like I’ve gotta show my boy how to properly breed a woman, since he’s yet to put his brat in you.”

Your stomach clenches. If not for Shinjuro’s leg wedged thickly between yours, keeping you spread for him, you would’ve pressed your thighs together in anticipation.

Shinjuro shifts behind you, pushing his pants down past his knees. Your curiosity is too great to resist, and slyly, you throw a glance over your shoulder, eager to see if your predictions about the Rengoku patriarch’s endowments ring true.

Before you can confirm, a rough, demanding hand ensares itself in your hair. With a hard shove, Shinjuro forces your head down, deepening the arch in your back. Behind you, Kyojuro makes some faint noise of discontent at his father’s roughness with you, but he does not interfere.

“I can only assume it’s ‘cause he’s not fuckin’ you properly. That’s what happens when you spread your legs for boys. They don’t know what you need.” He lines his tip up with your entrance. “Need a man to fuck you right.”

With a single, deep thrust, Kyojuro’s father bottoms out inside you.

He does not bother to give you time to adjust to him; he’s moving before you manage to choke out a small sound of surprise, one that’s lost to the fierce smacking of skin meeting skin.

“You need to— fuck — her — like — this —“ Shinjuro grinds out, each word punctuated with a sharp slap of his pelvis against your rear. The fat of your ass jiggles with every lurid thrust, and the elder Rengoku’s balls — heavy and full of cum that you know he’s going to insist on unloading inside you — smacks against your clit in time with his movements.

A responsive moan vaguely registers to your right, and with great effort, you turn your head toward the sound, eyes squinting through the stray strands of hair that have fallen over your face.

You spy Kyojuro, seated in the great leather armchair by the study’s fireplace. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright as he watches where his father appears and disappears into your body. In his hand is his cock. Its tip matches the color of his lips, parted as he pants against the languid pumps of his fist.

Shinjuro must catch sight of his son too, and it only spurs him to move faster; harder. “You like looking at her while she gets fucked, don’t you?”

You crane your neck further to watch for your fiancé’s answer, but a pointed slam of Shinjuro’s cock deep into your warmth forces your eyes back into your head. The stretch from him is incredible and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, even with Kyojuro; a burning fullness that is almost as uncomfortable as it is pleasurable.

Kyojuro must nod, for his father only scoffs in dismissal.

“Yeah, I see why. She’s a pretty fuckin’ thing, isn’t she?” A harsh slap of his hand against your ass nearly sends you jolting forward. “Bet you treat her like a little princess; too delicate to handle a good pounding.”

If you weren’t so fixated on the way your breasts scrape against the coarse rug beneath you in a dizzying blend of pain-tinged pleasure, you might have laughed. Kyojuro was an adventurous lover, and a considerate one at that. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to pin you down and fuck you when you wanted him to. Though, even Kyojuro’s roughest moments did not compare to the way his father now brutally fucked you into the floor of his study, his cock fat and heavy; as hard as steel.

Unlike Kyojuro, there is nothing loving about this; no tenderness. Shinjuro’s movements are nothing more than pure domination. He is not demanding your submission; he is forcing it.

The conversation between father and son is accompanied by a score of wet, sticky slaps of Shinjuro’s hips against your ass and the tiny little oh! oh! ohs! that you whimper into the rug. You soon find it impossible to fix your gaze on anything other than the diamond sitting delicately on your left ring finger; the way it glints and shines in the firelight as your fiancé’s father fucks you harder into the floor.

“That’s where you’ve gone wrong, boy. Fertile little things like this don’t want to romanced.” One broad, rough hand snaked up your spine to grip the nape of your neck, pushing your head down hard into the rug. “They want to be used.”

Shinjuro laughs, a harsh, jeering sound. “Just wanna be fucked stupid, isn’t that right?” His fingers tighten around your neck, commanding your attention despite the way he’s fucking your brain numb. “You just want someone to pump a baby into you. You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?”

The skin of your kneecaps burn from the way they scrape against the rug under your future in-law’s unyielding pace, and it’s because of that stinging pain that you’re able to ground yourself enough to manage a single, jerky nod of your head.

“Tch. Then why are you on birth control?” Shinjuro growls between vicious, forceful thrusts, his pelvis slapping hard against your backside. “You holding out on this family?”

Shinjuro draws nearly all the way out before he slams back into you, the blunt head of his cock bullying right up against your sweet spot. A slew of profanities pour from your mouth into the rug below, and your toes curl violently as he shifts his hips forward and keeps himself pressed right against it, stilling his movements.

You want to howl; he’s pushed right against the most sensitive part inside your body, one that Kyojuro knows will have you making a mess of both yourself and him after only a few grazes. And yet, his father, the bastard that he is, has the head of his cock jammed right against it, with seemingly no inclination of moving anytime soon.

Nor does he seem to care how you writhe and whimper into his rug, either. Your legs vibrate against the floor, and your hips move of their own volition, desperate for relief, but Shinjuro’s hold on your neck strengthens.

It’s torture and he must know it. “Answer me.”

“Not ready!” You gasp, your hands balling into fists against the carpet, your nails biting into your palms as the throbbing deep in your cunt becomes nearly excruciating. “We said — ngh — we said we weren’t ready yet!”

You cry out at the sting of a hand smacking hard at your ass. “You’re marrying into an old family, sweetheart.” Shinjuro spanks you again, and tears spring into your eyes. Yet, despite the pain, you only throw your hips back, desperate for more. “Money ain’t a concern. Your job is to birth the next generation of Rengokus.”

Despite his admonition, Shinjuro resumes his movements, easing back into his previous pace as though he hadn’t paused to start. You nearly cry out in relief, your hips circling and grinding against him for more, just more.

“Doesn’t matter, now. Don’t worry, you pretty little thing. You’ll be begging me to put a son in you soon enough. But until then —“ a rough, bruising hand snakes its way into your hair, balling it between his fingers. Shinjuro jerks hard on your head before he mashes it into the rug below, your cheek chafing against the rough carpet. “I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you. My son needs to be taught a lesson.”

Your eyes strain to seek out your fiance once more. Kyojuro’s blush has deepened to a fierce crimson, though his eyes darken at the way his father shoves you down into the floor.

Kyojuro is a passionate lover; while he can and does fuck you hard, he always keeps well behind the line between rough sex and cruelty. His father, it seems, toes that boundary far more closely. You can tell this bothers your beloved fiance by the hard set of his jaw and the wait his teeth grit together.

And yet, as the noises pouring from your mouth out of you slide from high-pitched, breathy whimpers to deep, sultry moans, and the study fills with pointed wet schlicking sound as the Rengoku patriarch continues fucking you without mercy, Kyojuro does not interject.

His hand only tightens around his cock; the tempo of his movements, only growing in speed.

Shinjuro’s grip on your neck loosens before his hand pulls back to rejoin the other at your hips. A low whistle blows past his lips. “If only you could see the way she’s creamin’ all over me, Kyojuro — filthy thing loves being used.”

He grunts appreciatively as he jerks you back to meet his rapid movements. “Does she always make this mess on you?”

A deep, rumbling groan is Kyojuro’s only answer, and his father chuckles.

“I figured. Look at her, suckin’ me in like this. Practically beggin’ me to fuck a child into her.”

A sharp smack cuts through the air like a knife, the skin of your ass stinging as Shinjuro cocks his hand back and spanks you again. Harder and harder he rides you, and the bruising ache blooming between your thighs is one you know you’ll feel for days.

Shinjuro’s next thrust is forceful enough that it lays him nearly flat against your back, his chest heavy and hot, dampened with sweat. The coarse hair covering his sternum scrapes at your shoulders as the elder Rengoku tightens his hold on your hips.

“You picked a ripe one, Kyojuro, I’ll give you that. Pretty little cunt like this was meant to be filled.” A hand winds under you, and Shinjuro’s palm presses flat against your lower belly. “With hips like this, she was made to give this family more sons.”

“Pussy is even better pregnant.” Shinjuro declares to no one in particular, his whiskey-tinged breath hot against your ear. “All the hormones and shit. Makes things tighter. Wetter.” You twitch violently into him as his thumb glides harshly over your clit. “More sensitive too. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“You want her pregnant, don’t you, Kyojuro?” And before his son can answer, Shinjuro snorts. “Yeah, you do. Bet you’ve even beat off to the image of it — her all fat and swollen with a kid, tits leaking, pussy sweeter than wine. I know I would.”

Beads of sweat roll down the thick planes of Shinjuro’s chest and abdomen, staining your back. Each jolt of his body into yours produces a wet thwap that joins the lewd squelching your cunt as it gushes around his cock, as his body suctions to yours.

Teeth, sharp and brutal, nip harshly at your neck. “I like to think I’ve spoiled my boys, Y/N.” Your future in-law growls lowly in your ear. “They may not agree. But they didn’t want for nothin’. And I still like to indulge ‘em, every now and again.”

Shinjuro’s rough hand reaches under you to palm at your tits. “You love being a big brother, don’t you, Kyojuro? How about I put a new baby brother in your fiancé’s womb for ya? How’s that for a gift?”

You clench hard, your stomach nearly convulsing at how tightly you grip onto the thick cock bullying relentlessly into you right as Kyojuro looses a great, cracked moan.

“What my boy wants, he gets.” Shinjuro sounds so casual as he peels himself off you, straightening back up on his knees. One hand moves to press down on your lower back, deepening the arch of your spine until your ass returns to its position high in the air.

His grip on your hips tightens with bruising force as he resumes jerking you back to meet his movements. “You ready to beg yet, sweetheart? You gonna let me breed this tight little cunt? Give your fiancé a new brother to spoil?”

You hardly recognize any of the sounds pouring out of you, unable to concentrate on anything but the way the ache in your groin deepens, your desperate need to be filled becoming damn near painful.

Behind you, Shinjuro chuffs through gritted teeth. “Yeah, you’d like that, huh? You’d love walking around, plump and round with your father-in-law’s bastard, wouldn’t ya? It’d be your dirty little secret.”

There’s a frenzy to his movements now, the more Shinjuro becomes lost in his own fantasy. His balls slap harshly against your clit, the coarse thicket of his hair scraping against your raw flesh as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten. “Everyone would see you and my boy together and think such lovely things; a new family starting out. No one would know — no one would guess that you were pregnant because of how much you like bending over for your fiancé’s old man to let him breed you like the sow you are.”

The image of it — of you, attending some fancy gala with Kyojuro, happy and glowing while his father’s baby grows steadily in your stomach — has you throwing your hips back, circling and grinding with a desperation that makes your fiancé’s father laugh, harsh and bitter.

The sound only makes you clench harder around him. God, you need it; him, of all fucking people.

Shinjuro.

“Please, please, please —!” The request rolls freely off your tongue before you can think the better of it. Across the room, Kyojuro cries out, as wanton and desperate as you.

“Please,” Shinjuro mocks. “Please what?”

“A baby — give me a baby, please! Oh please please —“

“You want to give me another son, huh? Fucking mine isn’t enough for you?”

“Yes!” You sob, the skin of your cheek burning where it mashes against the rug, but you’re far too gone to care. “A son, please, oh please put a son in me! I want to be good, let me be good —“

You’ll do it, you’ll give the Rengoku family as many heirs as they need to know your worth; to know that Kyojuro made the right choice when he got down on one knee and presented you with a ring worth more than your own salary.

“Bout damn time you see things our way,” Shinjuro growls, and he shifts forward, planting one foot by your knee. “I’ll stuff you full.”

He bends over you again, his chest forcing your back to flatten, and you nearly drool at the coarse prickle of chest hair where it rubs between your shoulders.

The scent of woodsmoke and fine whisky clouds your head. “Tell me, do you think my son will still fuck you even while you’re carrying his brother?” Shinjuro’s eyes dart to where Kyojuro sits, his head thrown back and thighs spread wide as he pumps himself, a deep, drawn-out moan rumbling in his chest.

Shinjuro conceals his grin against the side of your head, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “Yeah, I think he will. Your pussy’s too fuckin’ sweet to resist, isn’t that right, Kyojuro?”

“Yes.” Comes Kyojuro’s single reply, little more than a strained groan.

It’s too much; the obvious need in your fiancé’s voice coupled with the way his father so ruthlessly pumps into you, his cock stretching and filling you so perfectly as he hammers away all the right spots forces your eyes back into your head, your fingers clawing at the rug chafing your skin raw. The pressure in your stomach mounts until you feel almost ready to burst, every inch of you trembling as you wait for that familiar coil to spring.

Shinjuro swears lowly, once, sensing just how close you are to breaking apart, before he recovers.

“Just think, boy.” He calls out to his son, his voice boastful despite how he clenches his jaw. “Once her milk comes in, we won’t have to take turns having a taste. All we gotta do is sit her between us and each take a tit. Fun little father-son bonding. Whaddya say?”

Your eyes fly open. The image of it — of you straddled between the two Rengokus, both mouthing hotly at your swollen, aching breasts while your stomach sits round and full with a child that might have been fathered by one as much as the other — is your undoing.

Somewhere in the depths of the Rengoku ancestral estate, Kyojuro’s brother sleeps. You can only hope that his slumber remains peaceful, given the loud, cracked scream that rips free from you, burning your throat as your climax slams into you like a freight.

The coil in your stomach does not unwind; it explodes, blows apart in a mess of shrapnel capped with prolonged cry as your walls squeeze around your lover’s father’s thick, demanding cock.

“Oh fuck, she’s good,” Shinjuro throws his head back, eyes rolling into his head at the way your cunt seizes around him like a vice. “Harder, Y/N. Your father in law wants you to cum fuckin’ harder.”

One hand unlatches itself from its bruising grip at your hip, curling under you. Shinjuro pinches your clit firmly between the roughened pads of his fingers and your stomach seizes. A violent spasm of hot, searing pleasure rips sharply through your groin, sparking gush of sticky fluid to spring forth and coat the rug below.

“Daddy!” You cry out, too fucked out of your mind to fully register what has escaped your mouth; the slip you’ve made.

Daddy is reserved for Kyojuro — and under specific circumstances. Only after you’d been your most difficult, your most rotten, such that Kyojuro knew you were baiting him, waiting for him to pin you down and give you exactly what you wanted and set you right. Only after you were looking up at him through glassy eyes, so unbelievably fucked out of your head did the word Daddy ever leave your lips.

In a way, you suppose those conditions were present here. After all, it was your fiance who suggested you’d pranced around the Rengoku ancestral estate in your red dress to frustrate both him and his father. And Shinjuro is, in fact, fucking you halfway to hell and back, your brain having nearly liquified in your skull.

So really, he can’t fault you for getting your wires crossed.

“Daddy! Fuck — oh fuck, yes, yes, Daddy, daddy —!”

Kyojuro moans back in response, and that single sound — a ragged, pleasure-delirious thing — only makes you clamp down harder around his father’s thick cock.

“Yeah,” Shinjuro snorts, his laugh dark and cruel. “Yeah, I’m your fuckin’ daddy, aren’t I?”

You continue to howl for him until your voice gives out, quieting down in time with the slow ebbing of your climax, your body turning limp limb by limb. When the last of your orgasm echoes through you, you nearly collapse prostrate into the rug. You would have, if not for the bruising grip of hands latched firmly to your hips, keeping you in place.

You’re only permitted to relax for a moment before Shinjuro decides it’s time for him to make good on his oath to fuck a son into you.

A single, long draw of his hips nearly pulls his cock free of your sopping heat. But before that can happen, Shinjuro’s fingers dig into the fleshy part above your waist and without warning, he slams back into you, hard and brutal.

Air wheezes out of your lungs and you’re forced out of your post-orgasm haze, yanked right from the clouds of bliss and dropped back in the study as he repeats the movement once, twice.

You scramble to find purchase, your arm flailing out before you as you scramble to find purchase. Before you can, however, one rough, callused hand wraps firmly around your bicep, holding you down against the floor. The other snakes to your wrist and wrenches that arm behind your back, pinning it in place at the bottom of your spine.

And Shinjuro fucks you. Hard. Even more so than before.

You’re utterly at his mercy; little more than a toy, bouncing between his body and the floor of his sprawling study as Shinjuro chases his release. Your legs will be rubbed raw with friction, both from the rug beneath your knees and your hamstrings where Shinjuro’s thighs press firmly into yours, his hair as coarse and wild as what grows from his head.

Behind you, the elder Rengoku’s breaths have turned ragged.

“Hold her — fuck — hold her down like this when you cum.”

Whereas Kyojuro’s climaxes are always accompanied by loud, strangled groans, euphoric and lilting, Shinjuro comes with a deep, snarling grunt. With a final, bruising thrust, fiancés father-bottoms out inside you. His hips shove heavily into yours, pushing hard against your ass as he presses his cock as deep as possible. The force of it bends your spine, making Shinjuro distribute half his weight between his hips and his arms where he holds you down. He comes as powerfully as he’d claimed you, his orgasm every bit as punishing and relentless as the rest of him.

Your eyes roll back into your head at the first spurt of his cum, your mouth falling open. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth, trickling down your cheek and dampening the fibers of the rug.

Deep; your father-in-law’s cock is so fucking deep in you, his cum hot and thick as it coats your womb. Distantly, you hear the pleasured cry of Kyojuro as he reaches his own climax, his seed spilling hot and fast over his fist as he watches his father unload himself inside you.

“Feel me pulsing, doll?” Shinjuro grits through clenched teeth. “That’s me puttin’ our next heir in you.”

The only response you can manage is a faint moan. It takes a moment for you to feel it; the tell-tale gush of cum that always leaks out of you after you’ve been filled, tangible proof of how thoroughly you’d been claimed. And it strikes you that the delay is the result of how deep inside of you Shinjuro had been when he came.

Deeper, you silently concede, albeit begrudgingly, than Kyojuro has ever reached.

But then it comes; a thick trickle of hot fluid spilling over where your bodies are connected, Shinjuro’s balls twitching against your throbbing clit as he continues to unload himself inside you. Dizzy with the pleasure of feeling his cum, so warm and viscous, you cant your hips back into his, mewling your gratitude.

Full; you’re so very full of your father-in-law’s cock and cum. So very sated.

There’s a triumphant exhale behind you, and you don’t need to turn to know Shinjuro wears that self-satisfied smirk of his, the one he always had whenever he successfully trounced his son in front of an audience. His hand releases its crushing grip on the wrist he’d pinned behind your back in favor of rubbing your ass where it circles against his base, though whether it’s out of appreciation for you or a further brag to his son, you can’t say.

The elder Rengoku holds himself in place for a moment longer, ensuring every last drop of his seed is properly deposited into your waiting womb. Only when he’s satisfied nothing remains, does he pull out, not bothering to give you any warning as your body spasms and winces at the loss of his warmth.

The air at your back turns cool, no longer invaded by his lumbering body. A chill snakes down your spine at the sudden draftiness of the study as the sweat glistening along your back and staining your dress cools. Some of your awareness — and your contempt — returns to you as the spell cast over you by Shinjuro dissipates. You focus on each muscle of your body, identifying what you’re still able to love as you prepare to push yourself up from the floor, when two, broad hands latch around your waist.

Shinjuro cares not for your small whimpers and whines as he forces you to turn around on your raw knees, not letting you rest until your rear faces Kyojuro.

“There, that’s a properly bred pussy,” Shinjuro announces with a not-so-gentle smack of his hand against your swollen, dripping folds. “Take a look, son.”

A derisive snort shoves its way through your nose. Of course, it isn’t enough for Shinjuro to have fucked his son’s fiance right in front of him; now he has to show off his work.

But do you resist? Of course not, nor does Kyojuro protest, panting as he comes down from his own high where he sits near the fireplace.

“See that?” Two rough fingers catch a thick bead of Shinjuro’s cum as it slides down your inner thigh. “You want a baby? Don’t let a single drop go to waste. Fingers or your cock, it doesn’t matter — just make sure it stays inside.”

You focus on calming your own breathing, relief settling into your bones as Shinjuro pulls his hand away at last.

A moment passes, undisturbed except for the labor of your mutual breathing, when Shinjuro breaks the silence once more.

“But I’m gonna let you fuck my seed back into her.”

And with that, he leaves you crumpled helplessly on the floor, departing only with a sharp smack to your ass, still held high in the air.

He motions for Kyojuro to move and confounding, his son complies, half-jumping out of the leather armchair in his haste, his pants around his knees. Wordlessly, Shinjuro settles into his seat, one arm folded behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand wraps around his drooling cock, still hard and shiny with the combination of your cum and his.

“Go on, boy,” the elder Rengoku juts his chin to where you lay limp on the floor, your red dress pulled down bunched around your waist. He gives himself a firm pump with his fist and his mouth settles into a leering smirk. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

She yearned for freedom and solace from her familial home. He wished for companionship after a life of isolation. After a chance encounter at a masquerade ball, a deal is struck between the two to provide what the other desires. But as the horror behind unspoken truths becomes known, this marriage of convenience takes a dark and emotional turn that thrills her...and frightens him...

In the Jaws of an Oak is an illustrated erotic monster romance for fans of Beauty and the Beast retellings where the beast only becomes more monstrous instead of turning human.  This novella is 34k words with 18 illustrations, includes aromantic, pan, and sapphic representation.

The story explores themes of abuse and grief through the framing of the FMC’s newly found kinks surrounding fear and the MMC testing the limits of his most monstrous qualities. While not seen on page, it is heavily implied the FMC is a survivor of sexual violence and incest. Birth control via herbal remedies is taken on page and there is a brief mention of pregnancy and childbirth. While a majority of this work is queernormative, there is a brief instance of homophobia (past). 

There is one violent death that is described on page that involves dismemberment and being eaten, while all others are briefly mentioned along with attempted filicide.

“No, you just won.” He replied with a little smirk and the flash of his fangs made your heart soar. Alucard, no, Adrian – you were still getting used to using his name as opposed to his title, something he had insisted you do after you remained with him at Dracula’s Castle and the Belmont Hold to help him mourn – had confided in you that he was insecure of his smile for the fangs that reminded him of the man he came from: Vlad Dracula Tepes. You had pushed his hair away from his face in the light of the fireplace and told him how you adored his smile all the more for his fangs. He had not fallen victim to the oppressive power that many of half his race came to abuse, he had used his vampiric abilities in a heart-shattering fight to protect humanity. Likewise, he was not prone to the selfishness of the other half of his race and had killed his own father to prevent a genocide. He was the best of the two worlds he came from and his fangs were a reminder of that, not a testimony to his father’s cruelty. You had been wiping tears from his golden eyes shortly after those words tumbled from your mouth. 

It wasn’t too difficult for him to see your feelings for him after such a heartfelt confession of how you viewed him. You felt beyond blessed to find out that he returned them. 

“I want a serious race next time!” You poked his chest as the doors closed behind the two of you – would you ever get used to the castle’s mysterious balance of science and magic? 

“You would lose every time in a serious race.” He quipped, heading for the stairs, and you frowned as you followed him towards the kitchen. 

“I might just surprise you.” You threw back, tilting your chin upwards. 

“We shall see.” He hummed and you could tell he was trying to dismiss your claim. 

“Indeed, we shall.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That evening, after a long day of boarding up shattered windows in the castle and after the two of you worked together to make dinner, Alucard had insisted on doing the dishes and you decided to run him a bath. You poured a soothing lavender oil into the hot water and lit various candles around the room, casting the bathroom in a warm glow. By the time Adrian entered the bedroom that the two of you had come to share in the past few weeks, everything was prepared for him and you insisted on sitting on a stool behind the copper tub to lather his golden hair in a honey-scented soap. Your hands worked the muscles of his neck, shoulders and upper arms, soothing out any knots and watching his body melt further into the hot water in relaxation. You left him to enjoy the remaining heat, planting a sweet kiss on his forehead as you announced you would be getting changed for bed. 

It’s not a complete lie. You thought as you hung up your clothes from that day and slipped on a sheer white nightdress that hugged your breasts and flowed freely around the rest of your body. The straps over your shoulders tied together with ribbons in little bows, slits in the lace-cuffed sleeves revealing your shoulders and the neckline dipped low over your breasts. The skirt began beneath your bust and wrapped around your body once and then half way, the split in the material not revealing the skin beneath unless you were to reach into the folds of the fabric and push it open from the front. The skirt stopped just above your knee and had a dainty lace trim, much like the socks which you kept on, not wanting your feet to get cold. 

A part of you was tempted to put on some alluring perfume but it would only make it easier for Adrian, who would already have many advantages, so you opted against it. You took out a note that you had hidden at the back of the desk drawer, placing it upon his pillow with a mischievous grin as you pulled the ribbon from your hair, letting your locks tumble about your face. The letter read as follows:

Dearest Adrian, 

We said that we would see who would win in a serious race and I have decided to propose a more interesting offer: a chase. There are a few rules: the chase cannot leave the castle, hiding places are permitted, vampiric abilities are not prohibited but are also not to be abused. The winner decides what they would like as a prize, within reason, of course. Good luck. 

–Your Y/n. 

With that laid out, you ran out of the bedroom and through the corridors, up winding staircases and into a hidden passageway you had found recently in a study. You would wait here until you were sure Alucard was looking for you. There was a large grin on your face that you couldn’t bite back, no matter how hard you tried, and you sat on the floor with your back to the wall as you waited, knowing you should give it at least 10-15 minutes before assuming that the chase had begun. 

You left the door to the passage just slightly ajar so that you could glimpse at the old grandfather clock on the opposite wall, keeping track of the time. You felt as though you suddenly had the impatience of a child who was being made to wait for dessert. But it would be worth it, you just knew that, regardless of who won, this would be beyond thrilling. 

The time passed by and you decided that now would be appropriate to start wandering around. The waiting had only been to preserve your energy, after all. 

Dracula’s castle was beautiful in your eyes. It was extravagant and gothic and imposing, much like its creator. Did it suit Alucard? Perhaps not but maybe the combination of the castle and the hold would suit him once the two of you got things running in better shape. 

The doorways arched above you and there was rarely a corridor without an intricately carved ceiling, statues and paintings lining the walls, tapestries hanging from rails, heavy velvet curtains framing leaded windows. More often than not, the floors were covered in patterned carpets and you were thankful for them as it would be easier to run on carpet in just socks than it would be to run on stone or a polished wooden floor. There were the occasional bloodstains that you were dreading having to scrub out with vinegar, like you had done to so many other fabrics in this castle, or the deep stain causing you to have to throw out such finery altogether. 

You kept an ear out for Adrian’s footsteps wherever you went, not wanting to just accidentally run into him and ruin the chase before it could even begin. You paused for a while to gaze out of two big French style doors which led out to a balcony, enjoying the view of the tranquil spring night. There were only a few clouds sparsely dotted across the sky that was twinkling with stars, light from a not-quite-full moon pouring in through the doors and bathing you in its silvery glow. 

“Y/n, we both know I’m going to catch you!” Adrian’s voice called in the distance from your right and your face lit up with that childish grin once more as you took off in the opposite direction, your lack of shoes making you all the quieter as you traversed through the halls. 

Alucard’s vampiric abilities weren’t off the table in this chase, he also had the advantage of growing up here but you were a strategic thinker and already had various ways of throwing him off. 

“Don’t be so sure of yourself!” You called back before slipping behind a tapestry and pushing the hidden door behind it, silently shutting it behind you and using what you assumed had once been servant’s passages to make your way down a floor. Perfect! Now he would be looking for you in an entirely different location! You had to withhold an excited squeal as you made your way to the dance hall. The ceiling was a brilliant glass dome and the floor was decorated with various constellations that Adrian had told you all about one night. You, however, were much more interested in the harpsichord. There were many entrances to hidden passages in this room, once more you assumed for the servants who would wait on the guests of whatever dances were held here. You would play a melody, knowing that the instrument would be loud enough for Alucard to hear, and then make your way through one of the passages. 

You kept the song short and sweet, knowing that it would put you at a disadvantage to not be able to hear him coming over the loud music. You shot up from the stool when you thought you had given him ample time to hear you playing before one of the doors creaked open just as you were slipping into a passage. Adrian’s golden eyes landed on you and a surge of adrenaline rushed through your body. He was dressed in loose cotton trousers and a night shirt to match, the front of it mostly unlaced to reveal his toned chest and the pink scar that slashed across it. 

“You’ve been using the passageways.” He narrowed his eyes at you, both an accusation and a praise for your creativity. He hadn’t even known that you were aware of them. 

“I never said they were against the rules.” You quipped back before slamming the door shut and sliding the little bolt across the door, running through the dim passageway, glad for the candles along the walls which seemed to light themselves: again, magic or science? You could never tell the difference or where the lines blurred between this place. It was easier to accept Adrian’s philosophy of them being two sides of the same coin at times like this. 

Enough about self-lighting candles, you needed to plan out your route. There was a slight rush of cold air in the passage and you knew that it meant another one of the doors would have been opened somewhere. Again: he had the advantage of knowing this place better than you, he likely thought that you had no idea where you were going– 

And you would let him believe that. 

You quickly pivoted on your foot and began running back the way you came, unbolting the door and closing it behind you before running across the dance hall and making your way through the door that Adrian had left open. Where to now? You could head towards the library, lurk around in the shelter that the various aisles of books provided you for a while. There were various entrances and exits so it seemed like a wise choice. You could take a little breather there and continue on. What you didn’t know, though, was where all of the passage entrances were in that room. You would need to be cautious if Adrian was still roaming around between the walls. 

You made your way into the library through one of the more discreet doorways, as opposed to the grand ones with a carved image of what appeared to be classic scholars engaged in debate. You let yourself finally slow to a walk, allowing yourself to catch your breath and calm down, running your fingertips silently along the spines of books on the ground floor before something felt off. You weren’t tired, so why did your footsteps sound so heavy? You paused, took five steps. Two steps. Too heavy. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you turned around and looked up to see Adrian walking upon the shelf you were running your fingers along, mere paces behind you. He held up his boots in his hand to show that he had noticed your quiet trick of foregoing shoes, flashing that gorgeous fanged smile. You let out a squeal that melted into a laugh as you hurried off, dropping to the ground to slide under a table just as a wind rushed past you in a flash of red. You spun straight around to vault back over the table and made your way out of the nearest door, fleeing down the corridor and grabbing onto door frames to swing yourself around them, taking the most nonsensical route to try and throw him off. Where had he come from? Another hidden passage most likely. 

Where to next? Where wouldn’t he suspect? You bit your lip in thought as you continued running. 

“No!” You exclaimed, a grin across your lips when he appeared at the end of the next corridor that you threw yourself into and you had little choice but to turn back. Think! Where could you go? You considered the lab for a moment before remembering all of the broken glass that was yet to be cleaned up with all the shattered windows having been your priority to keep out any roaming night creatures. He could have caught you by now, snatched you up in a blur of red but he wasn’t using his special abilities. He seemed to be enjoying this just as much as you were. You were coming up on the end of a balcony that ran along the edge of the upper floor of a hall and there was a floor-to-ceiling window up ahead which caused the separation in the balconies. 

Oh, you hoped that this didn’t end badly. No longer hearing Adrian’s running footsteps behind you, you threw yourself over the edge and caught onto the heavy curtain, quickly letting yourself down and trying to still the fabric before running across the room to hide behind a suit of armour, watching where you had just taken your little leap of faith. 

Alucard skidded to a halt in the doorway before pursing his lips and turning back around, likely assuming that you had gone in a different direction. You smiled triumphantly. Where to now? 

The guest room that you had originally stayed in when the four of you – you, Adrian, Trevor and Sypha – had all been living in the castle at once before the other two set off on their monster hunting honeymoon. You could catch another breather there after such an intense burst in your little chase. Just as you made your way up the stairs that would take you to the floor you had just descended from, your eyes caught a flash of gold and you turned to see Adrian standing in the doorway that you thought he had long since passed through when you last saw him. 

Gasping, you burst into another sprint, beginning to feel all this running take a toll on you; this castle was big! You ran for what felt like 10 minutes, panting after running down just about every other hall you came across, before you realised you could no longer hear him behind you. When had those footsteps stopped? You spun around to look behind you but there was no one on your trail. 

Then there was a light tug on your hair. 

You spun around but no one was there either. This castle had always felt haunted, was that true? 

Another tug. 

You tilted your head back, looking up to find Alucard floating upside down above you, a lock of your hair tangled around one of his slender fingers. 

“Boo.” Before you could react, he fell upon you and you were pushed to the floor under his weight, straddling your hips to pin you down. You tried to squirm out of his grasp but he merely grabbed your wrists, holding them together and pinning them to your chest with just one hand as he leaned down over you, golden hair falling around the both of you like a curtain. “I do believe I’ve won.” He smiled and you admittedly felt more thrilled than you did upset. His eyes were blown wide, pupils eclipsing his golden irises, his free hand stroking some hair away from your face as he took in your flushed appearance, panting from so much running, fuelled by the excitement of knowing he was chasing you. 

“And?” You raised a brow, fully aware of the terms that you had laid down. 

“And?” He raised a blonde brow in return, his expression exaggerated enough to let you know that he was teasing you before confusion was replaced with realisation, “Ah, yes, I do believe that the winner gets a prize of their choosing. Now… what do I want?” He leaned back, sitting up and tilting his head to the side in thought, biting down on his lower lip which made you want to pull him down to kiss you. “Perhaps my lover, pinned underneath me in a very appealing negligee–” His eyes fell back on you, “Oh! How convenient.” 

“Just that?” You quizzed, trying to reach up to pull him down to you but to no avail with the way his hand was pinning yours down, “No activities to follow?”

“What a brilliant suggestion…” The fingertips of his freehand skimmed across the pulse in your neck, “Yes, I suppose I could think of a few.”

“You suppose?” You arched a brow, a teasing smile on your lips, chest still heaving from so much running. 

“Yes…” He murmured in reply as he leaned down once more, breath fanning across your lips. Up close like this, he smelled of the lavender and honey that you had scented his bath with and it made you inhale deeply through your nose before his lips were gently pressing to yours, feeling his palm splay across your throat and then slide along your jaw before pausing over your cheek, cupping it as he kissed you with utmost tenderness and affection. You kissed him back deeply, trying to pour all of your passion that he so wholly deserved into the exchange, tongue swiping along his lower lip in a silent request. As always, you took extra care to delicately run your tongue over his sharp fangs, wanting him to love them just as much as you did. 

You squirmed under him as he took more control of the kiss, wanting to wrap your legs around his waist and pull him impossibly close to your body but he still had you pinned to the ground and a big part of you certainly didn’t mind that at all, no matter what you wanted to do. You tried to free your wrists so that you might run your hands through his hair, knowing how much he loved it, however he would not release you. Instead, you reached up with your fingers and curled them into the material of his nightshirt, using it to pull him down closer to you. 

“Adrian,” You sighed against his mouth, earning a soft groan in response, “I want to touch you, please.” He released your hands, not breaking the kiss as his palm lay flat against your chest instead, your hands firing up to tangle in his golden hair and gently tug at it as he continued to kiss you, pressing his weight further into your body. 

Both you and Alucard had very little experience outside of what you shared together and – despite your previous fantasies of being with someone more experienced with you – you wouldn’t want it any other way. The two of you got to explore yourselves and each other together, there was little embarrassment when one of you was unsure of the other’s body – the pacing that you two had stumbled into was perfect, in your eyes. 

His palm against your chest slid upwards to cup the softness of one of your breasts, causing him to moan slightly into your mouth and you couldn’t help but gasp when he began teasing one of your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your negligee. You pressed your thighs together in search of some friction to sate the ache that was pooling at your core, feeling the material of your panties stuck to your skin already. Trying to buck your hips up to hint that you wanted to get up only made your lover moan softly as his lips peppered a trail down your neck. 

Typically, Adrian was very careful to not let his fangs touch your skin when he kissed you like this, but now they grazed against your skin and it sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine, air leaving your lungs in a moan. He froze for a moment, feeling his hands tense on your body and you opened your mouth to assure him that it was alright before he was kissing along your neck, fangs delicately scraping across your skin. It almost made your head feel foggy to know that those fangs were there for the sake of killing, to tear out the throats of prey like you, and yet he chose to use them to bring you pleasure instead of death. 

“You would let a vampire so close to your throat?” His voice rumbled against your flesh and your hands retreated from his hair to cup his face, pulling him upwards to press a sweet kiss to his lips. He gazed down at you as you pushed golden tresses behind his ears. 

“This one? Yes, I trust him with my life.” A kiss to the tip of his nose and a playful smile, “Though, perhaps not with my comfort if he intends to keep me on the floor like this.” He let out a little laugh in an exhale and a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

“Of course.” You were no longer pinned to the ground by his weight, instead he was hoisting you in his arms and you wrapped your legs around his waist, a hand on the back of your head pressing your face to the crook of his neck. In a flash of red, you found yourself being pressed to the bed that the two of you had come to share as of late. Alucard wasted no time in continuing to kiss along your throat, gently nipping at your skin – not enough to break it – now that he knew you trusted him to do so. If he ever did learn to balance and embrace the two worlds that he came from, he knew that you would be the bridge to doing just that. 

His lips ran across the tops of your breasts, teeth oh so carefully nipping at your collarbones until he took the ribbon of the bow at your shoulder in his teeth and pulled back, slender fingers sliding along your skin to slip under the silky material and pull back, untying it entirely. The same was repeated with the little bow on your other shoulder. It seemed as though he was determined to cover every inch of your chest in kisses as he pressed his lips to your newly revealed skin as he slid the sheer material down past your breasts. 

His hands went up to cup and squeeze your soft flesh, making you moan quietly at his touch before his head dipped down once more and he was painting your skin in his hot kisses, tongue lapping at your skin every now and then before taking one of your hardened buds into his mouth and gently sucking down, making you tangle your hands in his golden hair once more, running your fingers through the long tresses to gently hold it back from his face. His one hand teased your other nipple while the other ran across your stomach, gliding over the satiny material of your dress. 

His hand worked into that slit in the material and he pushed it aside, sweeping his hand under the other side of the material to push it in the other direction, revealing your pale pink panties that were now visibly damp. Alucard’s mouth skimmed over the remaining fabric that wrapped around you just under your breasts to kiss a line down your stomach, turning his head to press yet another kiss atop your thigh. 

“I just want to get my mouth all over you…” He sighed, lightly nipping at one of your hips as he pushed the waistline of your panties down slightly. “Can I? Please can I?” There was a desperation to his voice and you quickly nodded your head, wanting nothing more – scratch that, actually–

“One condition!” You exclaimed, hands curling around his biceps to pull him up. Your fingers reached under his shirt and pulled it over his head, palms splaying over his chest to take in all of the definition that it had to offer. You stopped to pay particular attention to the pink scar that cut across his alabaster skin in a thick, jagged line. Your heart bled for his past, for all the pain that it held and you hoped only to steer him towards a happier future. You leaned up to press a kiss to where it began at his collarbone, following the scarred flesh with devoted lips to show him just how much you adored him. You kissed as far down as this position would allow you until hands on your sides gently eased you back down. 

“I thought we agreed I would be the one getting to do that.” He spoke with a soft smile. 

“I can't help myself, you’re so pretty, Adrian.” Your hands slid over his pectoral muscles – which all of his shirts happened to brilliantly show off, lucky you – and up over his slender neck, cupping his face, “So pretty…” A blush stained his cheeks and it made you smile at knowing he enjoyed the praise. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer and he responded by pressing his hips down against you, feeling his hard cock straining against his cotton leggings. The well-needed friction made you whine and his lips were attacking your skin once more, no doubt leaving a constellation of marks in his wake. 

He had slid his body down to kiss a trail between your hips and you found yourself grinding down against him regardless, desperate to have him inside you. You reached down and hooked your thumbs into the pale pink fabric, intent on shoving them down your legs, but Alucard’s hands covered yours, golden eyes meeting yours in a silent exchange: ‘Let me do it.’

You brought your hands back up, letting your arms rest on either side of your head, and he slowly slid them down your legs, making you blush furiously when you saw the string of your wetness that stretched out between the soaked material and your needy cunt. The moment they were tossed aside, you hooked your leg around his hip and pushed with all your weight to send him onto his back, now straddling his hips as he had done to you when you lost your playful little chase. Your hand reached down to palm his cock through his clothes, reaching for the string keeping them up to pull on it, tugging the clothing downwards with the assistance of him lifting his hips slightly. 

You bit your lip at the sight of his free cock, long and slender with such a flushed tip. Acting before you could feel shy or embarrassed, you swiped two fingers through your slit to collect some of your wetness there and then wrapped your hand around his cock, beginning to pump his length with your slickness. His head fell back against the pillows with a moan, golden hair fanned out around him as one of his hands curled into your hip. Just hearing his pleasured moans turned you on to no end and you found your patience thinning. Raising your hips up, you pressed him to your entrance before slowly sinking down on him, only stopping once you had taken all of him within you. 

Your hands clenched around the material of your nightdress before you tentatively raised your hips up and snapped them back down, whimpering at the force that brought you so much pleasure and building up on that pace with more confidence, feeling Adrian’s hands cup the softness of your ass, strong arms beginning to guide you. As the coil in your abdomen began to tighten, heat pooling heavily between your thighs, you pressed your hands to his Adonis’ belt, supporting yourself as your thighs began to tremble. His hands worked into the sheer material of the negligee once more, pushing it aside and holding it there as his hands curled firmly around your hips. You adored Adrian’s hands, pale, slender fingers that remind you of a musician’s, but had yet to worked up the courage to tell him just how sexually appealing they were. A part of you was sure he already knew, especially with the way you would react to him using them on you. 

With the white material of your dress pushed aside, he had a clear view of his cock slipping in and out of your drenched cunt, his mouth falling open in a moan at the sight, hips jerking up to meet yours. 

“Look at how well you take me…” It seemed you were not immune to praise either as it only made you clench around him, wanting desperately to reach down and touch your clit but another part of you wanted to ride him until you came untouched. You followed the latter, bringing your hips down onto him with more force, aided by how he now snapped his hips up into you. You got off on his moans beneath you, his strong hands supporting your hips, coming around him and practically collapsing against his chest, gently grinding your hips down against him through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Capable arms wrapped around you and you found yourself on your back once more, your dhampir lover hovering over you. He peppered kisses across your face and reached up to stroke through your hair with one hand. He softly shushed you as you whimpered from the intensity of your orgasm, reaching up to run your hands along his shoulder blades when you no longer felt boneless. 

“You’re so beautiful when you come for me…” He murmured against your ear and your nails raked lightly against his skin. You had said those same words to him just the other night as you accidentally tipped him into overstimulation. Had he felt the same butterflies at such praise? 

His hips experimentally pulled away from yours before he thrust his cock back into you, long and slow movements making you truly feel every inch of him. You began to grind your hips into his thrusts, one hand set on his back while the other reached up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, gently tugging, knowing how much he adored when you touched his hair. You knew that getting you to a second orgasm wouldn’t take a lot and you were determined to get him to finish with you. 

“You’re so good to me, my love.” You sighed, pulling him down for a heated kiss, sucking his lower lip into your mouth before swiping your tongue along his fangs, “So pretty…” His pace faltered and he dropped his head to bury it in the crook of your neck, mouth open to let out his moans against your skin and for a moment you desperately wanted for him to bite you. “Come for me, Adrian, please.” You whispered against his golden hair, the last word coming out in a whine as you felt yourself teetering on the edge and it was feeling the last few hard, erratic jerks of his hips against yours, filling you with his cum, that sent you over that edge, wrapping your legs around him to keep him impossibly close as you panted, feeling the weight of him comfortably pinning you down as he collapsed on top of you. 

Both of your bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat and you held him tighter when he tried to pull away from you, though you allowed him to prop himself up on an elbow to look down at you. He took a moment to gaze upon your face before sweetly kissing your forehead. 

“I think that perhaps another bath is in order, for the both of us this time.” He murmured, brushing some damp hair away from your face and you gently shook your head. 

“I want to rest first.” Your voice came out in a whisper and he hummed lowly before resting back against you. 

“Alright, but you’ll let me clean you up after. Consider it an extension to my winner’s prize.” You could hear the smile in his voice and it only made you grin. 

“That was fun.” You spoke, a hand coming up to gently comb your fingers through his hair, “I think we should do that again at some point.” You felt his thumb caress your shoulder. 

“In all honesty, I thought it would be quite childish at first when I had no idea where to begin looking for you. But it did turn out to be very fun, yes.” He paused, “You won’t beat me though.”

“I didn’t use my magic this time, I won’t hold back on you next time.” You retorted, a playful pout on your lips. 

“Then it would only be fair if I did the same, no?” He asked in return. 

“No, it wouldn’t because I’m still a human at the end of the day and you’re a dhampir and technically the prince of fucking vampires. Cut me some slack.” Your hand massaged his scalp and you felt him laugh against your neck. 

“Always something to whine about.” There was the familiar banter that you adored.  “Well perhaps, during our bath, you can give me something else to whine about, my love.” You pressed a kiss to his head and he hummed in satisfaction at such a proposal.