#visionsoftemptation2022

       There was a bunny in the wood beneath your left hand. You could see it, could trace the outline of its ears and dainty nose where the dark wood whorled and notched, cut and carved and polished to a shine to form the piece of furniture that was your lover’s desk. Your nails latched into that bunny now as you cried his name, his seed dripping down the insides of your thighs.

       “Vlad!” Gasping, your back arched with each rapturous wave of pleasure that pulsed through your bent form. Overstimulation teased just enough to amplify the heat that curled through your body, easing his passage in and out of your tight depths. 

       You were clothed when he started, both of you were. Usually Vlad took his time when you came to his office in the evenings, coaxing you into his lap and holding you close for a time before spreading you out on his desk, a delicacy for his sole enjoyment. Tonight, however, you’d barely walked through the door before he had you pushed against it, hoisting your legs around his waist. When you’d asked what had gotten into him, he had simply replied, “I just like keeping you close,” and, shoving two fingers deep between your folds, “You’re so warm...”

       The air was smoky with the scent of firewood and sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the sweet moans you made filling the dimly lit room. Sunset had long passed, leaving the fire burning in the hearth to illuminate your lovemaking and cast a flickering, misshapen shadow on the wall where your lover curled over you. 

       A deep groan of “fuck” fanned over your bare shoulder, his lips tickling the skin. You were sure that your back and neck were covered in his marks, the imprint of his grip on your hips sure to remain long after you were finished. 

       It wasn’t the marks you would have to worry about concealing though. 

       The marks could be covered (if you wanted them to be), but his scent would cling to you, signaling to anyone who came too close that you were absolutely taken. It was a wolf’s wicked claim, the claim of a greater vampire, and you didn’t mind it one bit.   

       You couldn’t remember how many times you’d cum, only that you were obscenely wet. The proof of your orgasms, both yours and his, seeped viscously around the cock that still plunged into your pussy, relentless and ravenous. You didn’t even know where you ended and he began; that’s how deeply he had molded himself against you. And you relished it.

       This was different from Vlad’s usual preference for slow love-making, but you enjoyed it all the same. You could feel each breath he took like this. His usually cool skin had heated with lust, with your touch, and you shuddered with every inch of his cock that disappeared inside your sucking core. All you could think of, all you could feel, was him.

       “Too much,” you whined, nails digging harder into the desk. Your hips knocked against the edge with each deep thrust, peaked nipples brushing the cool surface beneath you. The heat in your limbs had turned molten and you weren’t sure if your legs still supported you or if it was entirely up to your lover and his hold on you. “Vlad, it’s too much.”

       He slowed, but just barely, his nose nuzzling your nape as he asked, “You want me to stop?”

       “No!” Your ass pushed back into him, making him grunt as you forced him deeper. You hadn’t realized how close you were to another orgasm, but the blunt head of his cock brought into contact with your cervix made you scream as the passion between you crackled. The hands on your hips tightened, fangs worrying your skin, and a moment passed as his hips stuttered and you felt the hot bloom of his balls being emptied into you once again.

       The weight of the greater vampire against your back pinned you to the desk as the two of you collapsed in a panting heap. Your heart raced, fluttering like a bird in the cage of your ribs, and you knew Vlad could hear it. His fingers drew slow ovals from your hips and around your sides, lingering on the prints he’d left behind. You knew you didn’t imagine the way he curved tighter around you, fitting the two pieces of your bodies that much closer together.

       “More.” The word thundered through you, every nerve ending still alight as Vlad slipped out of you, a gush of liquid chasing his exit. 

       Gentle hands pulled you away from the desk and into his embrace, bringing you to the floor with him. The plush carpet felt good against your exhausted form after the cold hardness of the desk, the fire that much closer.

       “Vlad, wait.” He loomed over you, all ivory planes and blood-red eyes, peering down at you with singular purpose. “I-I can’t,” you mewled, even as you did nothing to stop him from parting your legs and running a pleased finger through the mess he’d made between them. 

       “You can,” he husked, those hypnotizing eyes prowling closer as his body draped over yours, fitting himself between your legs. “And you will.”

       You would. 

       Licht Klein was control personified.

       None of the other princes could muster the level of restraint he was capable of. Not Jin, not Leon, and certainly not his brother. He could be starving, but if he was told not to touch the meal in front of him, he wouldn’t have.

       Restraint was his middle name.

       But if you kept sucking on his neck like that, he was going to tumble you to the carriage bench and have his wicked way with you.

       His hands were on your hips, more for his own stability than for yours as you ground yourself into his lap. The movement of the carriage as it bore you both back to the palace didn’t help, every dip and bump in the road jolting your body against his. Your lips worked happily against his pulse point despite the uneven bouncing, sending bolts of pleasure straight to his cock.

       “What’s gotten into you?” A particularly deep roll of your core against the erection throbbing in his trousers made Licht groan, knuckles white as his fingers dug into you. God, he could feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes.

       “Mmm, it just struck me again how handsome my husband is.” A playful nip to the spot just below his ear made him gasp, your lips and tongue too good at chipping away his control. “I’ve been overwhelmed by how much I love you.”

       “If you give me a hickey, I’ll have to give you one too,” he growled, hoping that you wouldn’t stop.

       You pulled back just enough to peer up at him through your lashes. Another roll of your hips shifted his hands, moving from your hips to your ass. “Would you give me more if I asked?”

       His control, frayed to nothing, finally snapped. The next thing both of you knew, you were laid out on the bench, Licht hovering above you.

       “I’d give you the moon and all the stars in the sky if you asked for them,” he breathed against your lips, gaze trained on the smile that formed there.

       Tender hands threaded into the thick hair at the nape of his neck, pulling gently on the strands. “All I want is you.”

       His mouth descended on yours ruthlessly, tongue diving between your lips and plundering his territory. Each moan you made tasted sweet, his tongue tangling with yours and drawing out more of those delicious sounds. Your hands tugged harder on his hair, your skirt shifting up as you spread your legs to accommodate the knee he placed between them. A deep purr rumbled through his chest as you lifted a leg over his hip, coaxing him closer.

       Strings of saliva connected your swollen lips by the time he was done, satisfied that he’d well and truly taken your breath away. “You have me,” he promised with a swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip. The matching rings around your fingers reaffirmed that.

       Keeping one hand planted beside your head, he reached down to undo his belt, letting you help free his cock from the confines of his trousers. Licht hissed when your hand wrapped around the pulsing flesh, your thumb swirling the bead of pre-cum welling at the top. The urge to attack your lips again warred with his desire to fuck you senseless, to give you everything you asked for and more. Every part of him was already yours.

       Instead, he shoved the skirt of your dress up to your waist, hungry for what lay beneath. You were already soaked when he reached you, shucking your panties down your legs before settling himself between them. Calloused fingers slipped through your folds, intent on stretching you before he fit his cock in your tight heat, but you stopped him with a hand around his wrist. The way you bit your lip, peering up at him pleadingly through lust-hazed eyes, told him all he needed to know about how desperate you were and Licht was nothing if not an attentive husband.

       You shivered as his cock fell between your folds, coating himself in your slick before he positioned the blunt head against your entrance. A yelp filled the small space of the cabin as Licht grasped your calves and hoisted them over his shoulders without warning, thrusting his erection into your depths in the same movement. Maybe the coachman heard, but Licht couldn’t bring himself to care, all his focus trained on the wet suck of your pussy around his girth.

       You were wet enough that he slid into you easily enough. Still, he noted the way your fingers clawed into the velvet-upholstered bench beneath you, your brow furrowing against the slight pain that came with the stretch.  

       On any other occasion, Licht would have waited for your go-ahead before he started moving, but something about your desperation had rubbed off on him, evaporating his good sense. That, combined with the rocking of the carriage as it rumbled over the dirt road, made him pull back and plunge back in harder than he meant to.

       Once he started, he couldn’t stop. Uncontrolled, he pounded into your welcoming cunt, the wet squelch of his cock splitting you open combining with your mewls and his quiet grunts. The temperature in the carriage heated, warmed by your fucking.

       Something curled along Licht’s spine with each moan of his name, his eyes dark with heat as he watched you arch and writhe beneath him. Shifting his hips, he battered the spot inside you that he knew would make you feel best, that he’d committed to memory after being inside you so many times. Your pussy rewarded him by clenching down hard, nearly making him cum as he gritted his teeth against the overpowering burst of pleasure.

       “How do you feel so good every time?” His body fell over yours, forcing your legs into a mating press as he grunted, “I can’t…fuck, I can’t stop.”

       “Don’t stop!” you begged, meeting his lips in a messy kiss. He knew you were close, could feel it in the way your body melted against his, the way your pussy sucked him harder. You weren’t alone; his own end was approaching too, tightening his balls and driving his hips to thrust deeper, faster.

       Over and over, thrust after thrust, each move brought his orgasm closer. You were almost there. He was almost there.

       And then he stopped. One moment he was inside you and the next he was gone, leaving you woefully empty as he slipped your legs off his shoulders and sat up. “Licht!” you cried, voice colored with frustration, and something about it made him smirk, even as he felt remorse at having left your pleasure dangling. “Why did you stop?!”

       “We’re home.” Kissing your temple, he slid your damp panties back up your legs and tugged you back into a sitting position. What you hadn’t felt and that he had, was the gradual slowing of the carriage, the way it leaned ever so slightly this way and that as it made the familiar turns leading up to the palace. He might’ve made you climax before the carriage reached its destination, but that would mean no aftercare and that was his favorite part. Furthermore, Licht was not going to risk exposing you to people who had no right to see you that way. Only he had that right.

       Your skirt fell back into place, hiding the evidence of your coupling as he tucked his erection back into his trousers. Cradling you against his side, he kissed your pouting lips, catching your bottom lip between his teeth for a quick nip.

       “Don’t tease me,” you whined, balling a fist in his jacket.

       “Not teasing,” he purred, “Just keeping the mood going.”

       “I know, but-“

       Drawing up your knees, you reached between your legs with trembling fingers, sucking in a sharp breath when they brushed your swollen clit. Your teeth caught your bottom lip, worrying the flesh as you teased the bud, increasing the pressure with each rub.

       You’d been so pent-up all day, it was embarrassing. Victor was gone for a week and you went sex-crazed? Ridiculous. You had grown too accustomed to his affection, which demanded he push you to the point of insanity with his tongue or cock whenever he could.

       When he’d left, he’d asked if you would be able to handle yourself until his return, a stupid, teasing smirk on his stupid, beautiful face. You’d wanted to smack him and kiss the living daylights out of him at the same time, but now you just wanted him with you in this bed, his fingers between your legs instead of your own.

       The mere memory of his fingers was enough to make you moan. His were so much thicker than yours, so much longer. Victor played your body like an instrument, drawing music from your lips and wet from your depths. He reached places inside of you you hadn’t known existed, making you gasp and writhe in the warmth and safety of his hold as you reached climax after climax until you were absolutely spent.

       You imagined those moments now as you sank a finger into your core, trying and failing to imagine that it was his. Your chest heaved with frustrated arousal, hardened nipples straining against the fabric of your bra. Whining, you pumped the finger a few times before adding another, scissoring yourself. Two fingers of your opposite hand circled your clit, teasing the bud as you rolled your hips into your hand.

       You sighed as the pulse deep in your belly began to strengthen, heat seeping into your veins. It wasn’t nearly as much pleasure as what Victor gave you with a mere brush of his fingers, but it was enough to take the edge off as you slowly worked yourself towards your climax.

       A sudden buzzing made you startle, eyes that you hadn’t realized closed shooting open and hands flying to either side of you as you bolted upright. Your eyes found your phone, ringing where it sat charging on your nightstand. Groaning, you ignored it, brows furrowing as you lay back and replaced your hands between your legs. You set a fast pace, rubbing hard in an attempt to drown out the phone’s impatient buzzing.  

       After what felt like forever it stopped…only to start up again a moment later. You snarled this time, cursing whoever had distracted you from your pleasure once more. Again the buzzing stopped, and again it started a few seconds later. With an annoyed huff, you tore your fingers from yourself. Laying limp across your bed, you exhaled a slow breath, taking a moment to accept the fact that your arousal had evaporated before snatching the phone off the nightstand and ripping the charger out in the process.

       In your frustration, you didn’t bother to look at the caller ID, a mistake as, before you could even get a word out, a booming voice asked, “You were touching yourself, weren’t you?”

       Victor - the object of all your desires and frustrations - had such impeccable timing.

       “Hello to you too,” you muttered, clamping your thighs together against the embarrassing rush of arousal that flooded you at the sound of his voice. You really were ridiculous.

       “Tell me.” The tone of his voice, deep and husky, brooked no lenience. Even so, there was something strained to his cadence, something you hardly recognized but that made you pause a moment before you answered slowly, “…Yes.”

       A groan echoed through the receiver, making your breath catch and your pussy flutter. One sound had no business being so sexy. “Are-are you…?” The words came out higher and breathier than you meant them to. Something in your brain broke at the idea of Victor in the same position as you, just as desperate, just as needy for the other’s touch.

       “Yes,” he answered, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

       “Only all day?” you tried to laugh, but you could feel a moan bubbling in your chest. Your pussy was already wetter listening to his voice alone than it had been when you were fingering yourself. What a traitor.

       Victor growled, the sound making you whimper as you wriggled against your pillows, legs spreading once more. “What were you doing before I called?”

       “Fingering myself,” you confessed.

       “How many?” Heavens above, his voice could shake mountains to their foundations - that’s what you thought as you covered your mouth to stifle your needful cry, pussy clenching around nothing.

       “Two,” you answered shakily. Your fingers brushed through your swollen folds, the electric fissures you’d been looking for before all too happy to emerge at your touch with Victor’s rough breathing in your ear. “But it’s not you.”

       He chuckled, the sound warming you from the inside out. “I keep imagining it’s your mouth or your pussy around my cock instead of my hand.” The warmth you felt turned molten at the thought that he was just as starved for you as you were for him, pleasuring himself to thoughts of you. “But it’s not you.”

       The image of him, naked and flushed, muscles straining as he took his heavy, weeping cock into his hand, made you breathless, tiny mewls and gasps escaping as your fingers circled your opening. You imagined the pre-cum that would be beading at the tip of his thick head, the pulsing vein that ran along the underside, the slight curve of the staff. A burst of heat soaked your fingers, back arching into the bed beneath you as they slipped into your slick heat.

       “Are your fingers in that tight pussy?”

       You shivered, feeling his voice in your bones as you gasped an eager “Yes!” Setting the phone to speaker, you used your newly freed hand to grope your breast, teasing your hardened nipple through the lacy fabric of your bra. “I wish you were here.”

       He was silent for a moment, long enough that you thought you’d lost connection, and then he commanded, “On your knees.”

       You nearly knocked the phone off the bed in your scramble to do as he said. Each breath came rapid as you rolled onto your knees, keeping your upper body pressed to the bed and widening your knees. Your arousal dripped down your inner thighs in this position, making you shiver at the exposure it brought. How could you be so unseemly wet when he hadn’t even touched you?

       “Have you done as I asked?”

       The rumble of his voice, deep and smooth as honey, made you shudder. “Yes.”

       Even so far away, you felt his smirk, felt the phantom imprint of it against your skin. “Good girl.” A shuffling sound reached your ears and you wiggled uncomfortably as you waited for his instruction. Closing your eyes, you tried to imagine your lover was there with you, his breath fanning over your skin rather than finding you through a phone receiver. You remembered the feel of his body against yours, pressing against your back, his cock nudging you open…

       “Two fingers inside.” The sudden, harsh words made you jolt. “Use your other hand on your clit.” He spoke with all the authority of the CEO he was, ordering your pleasure as if it was his right.

       A little shifting and shuffling found your hands tucked between your legs, your toes curling against the comforter as you did as he said. Two fingers disappeared inside of you again, two other fingers tracing circles into the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs.

       “Done,” you breathed, slowly beginning to thrust those digits in and out of your throbbing heat. The embarrassment you’d felt before as you’d tried and failed to get yourself off evaporated, replaced by a blank-eyed lust as you fingered yourself. “What…What are you doing?”

       “Jerking myself,” came his grunted reply, and you shivered, biting your lip against the smirk that threatened to unfurl. Was it possible that Victor was worse off than you? You always thought you were the more attached one in the relationship, but maybe Victor was just better at hiding it. “God, your pussy is always so tight around me, squeezing me,” he huffed. If you listened closely you thought you could hear it, the slap of his hand around his erection, pumping himself.

       “You’re so much bigger than my fingers,” you whined, straining to reach the places inside of you he always did. You remembered the first time you and Victor had made love, how he’d had to stretch you and ease you open with his tongue and fingers before he would even consider putting his dick in you. “What else?”

       “You always milk the cum out of me so well. Your cunt is always so hungry for it.” That made you blush, pussy clenching down on your fingers as if in agreement. It was true; you loved it when Victor came inside of you, begging for it as he fucked you closer and closer to your orgasm. You loved how close it made you feel, how tenderly he would hold you even as his hips ploughed into you mercilessly.

       Still, you buried your face into your pillow, cheeks burning with a vicious blush. You were only masturbating on the phone with him, but hearing him praise you so freely was unusual. It made your heart flutter and your knees weak.

       A long moan peeled from your lips, too loud in the too big space of your bedroom. You hadn’t realized how much space Victor’s presence took up until now, how he filled your everything so not a single part of you wasn’t marked with him. Your fingers moved faster as you rocked your hips into your hand. You knew he could hear each gasp, each mewl and cry. You wanted him to hear it, wanted to pet the ego that knew he could make you feel good, could make you cum to the thought of him.

       “Victor,” you mewled. Your fingers slipped through the copious amount of wet your body was producing, your back arching and your knees spreading a little more in a useless presentation to a lover who wasn’t there. “I want to cum so bad.”

       “Prove it to me,” he growled, curls of heat licking through your lower belly. “Prove to me that you deserve this, that you deserve to cum.”

       “I need it! Baby, please!” You were so close, so close to obtaining the relief that had eluded you all week. “It hurts without you! I need your cock, your fingers, your tongue!”

       “I know, darling.” His heavy breathing filled your senses, and you swore you could smell him, something of the taste of his skin on your tongue. “Such a good girl. Won’t you cum for me? Make those pretty noises for me to remember until I get back?” he coaxed, and your walls contracted, warning you, urging you on.

       “I’m close,” you gasped, mewling with each plunge of your fingers. “Victor!”

       “Cum, baby.” A part of your brain connected the strain in his voice with his own climax, with the way his defined abs would be tensing right now, his body curving around the pulsating dick in his hand.

       You spasmed, crying his name at the same time that milky white spurted from the reddened tip, his seed gone to waste where it painted his thick thighs and pooled on his stomach. Collapsing onto your comforter, you lay boneless in the wake of the orgasm coursing through your limbs. Satisfaction, warm and fuzzy, settled in your abdomen.

       Only one thing could have completed your happiness.

       “I miss you,” you murmured, taking the phone off speaker in order to hear his voice more closely.

       “I love you,” he answered, his voice soft as it only was when he said those three words, and your heart melted as you whispered the words back.

       “Are you going to sleep now?”

       “Mhm.” Rising on legs that were just stable enough to carry you to your bathroom, you cleaned yourself up, pulling on your fluffiest pajamas when you were done. “You?”

       “I have a few emails to send.” That was your Victor, ever-dedicated to his work. The thought brought a smile to your face. “I couldn’t focus on them before.”

       “Sleep soon.” Flopping back into bed, you pulled the blankets around you, cocooning yourself and trying to preserve the afterglow of your orgasm. “I’m waiting here for you.”