III. Sunset

October 7th

Nathaniel was ice cold, lying in Damian's big bed at the circus. His systems worked hard to replace the heat stolen by the chilly October air and the natural coldness of being under ground, surrounded by the dead. His skin felt icy, disturbing his already light sleep that wasn't really a sleep but a way of shutting up his mind, to wait out the daylight...When Damian's palm touched his back he instantly opened his eyes, awake and alert as if he hadn't been sleeping at all. A nervous shiver ran through his body and the tears were there, right under the surface. The sleep hadn't done much to ease his mind, just kept the thoughts and sorrow at bay for a moment. Now he was quickly drawn back to reality by the vampire's awakening by his side.

At least he touched him, was his first thought...at least the vampire's palm lay flatly against his back and he hadn't hurt him either...yet.

Hardly a rustle in the sheets when the larger male reached over and sought for his neck. Nathaniel had expected that. Damian would be hungry. Not much use to anyone, a bloodless vampire...

He stretched his neck and offered it to the one he loved so, muffled a little outburst of pain when the fangs sank into him and closed his eyes to remain in control. Not cry of heartache, not think about it: That Damian's lips touched his skin, that his hand had wandered to his hip, that he could feel the soft pajamas pants against his backside, slick and cool against the back of his thighs. Damian was kind enough to roll his mind; nice...soothing waves of calm filled the wereleopards mind and eased the pain. A powerful drug that. Nathaniel loved. He mewed a little and gave a pleasurable sigh when Damian's hair spilled forward and covered his chest. Dazed by the mind play he lifted his fingers and ran them through the silken mass of crimson red.

Oh, how he loved him! Even when gently rolled and calmed by the vampire powers he couldn't help but ache and grieve, feel the sorrow and regret like a big, black beast. What would come next? When would he turn him from his bed? Was this the last time? How severe would the punishment be?

Feeding made sense to him. Feed and gain strength. Of course he needed that after the awakening and Nathaniel was grateful for his gentleness...that he cared enough to erase the pain he caused...or maybe it was just a reflex, he figured. Maybe he rolled his mind out of habit, nothing else...He realized his nagging thoughts were disrupting the flow of soothing waves from the vampire. That he fought the power in his mind without really wanting to. With an act of will he forced himself to relax, let the vampire feed effortlessly and in peace. His body went as limp as it could, his frozen state considered, and he gave himself up to the other male. Whimpered and registered but didn't really reflect upon it when he felt the vampire's hand on his stomach, the other one on his forehead, forcing his head further back. Just the lips on his skin mattered, his own urge to arch against him and be closer.

He sighed deeply and gave in to the power that rolled over and seduced him. Whimpered again and lowered his legs a bit from his chest when the vampire's hand urged him to. He was faintly surprised when the hand reached down to his crotch but was too far gone to feel the full force of the emotion, instead he opened up and received the lust Damian filled his mind with. Not that he needed it, he was already erect from the closeness and the kiss on his throat. Damian liked to play with him like that, feel him grow hot and hard while he sucked at him. Nathaniel moaned now, thrust into the hand with slow motions. He could feel the vampire's own member grow as his body filled with liquid, pressed hard against his rear, covered in red silk.

He could still make him hard, he thought at the back of his mind, behind the the tingly mist and nice waves of vampiric control...He could still make Damian want him. A flash of something bittersweet, before it was drowned in the heavy, red waves, the dizzying feel of oblivion.

The scent of spices, precious and rare. His mind recognized it as sex and he growled deeply, Damian's hands had wandered to his rear now, opened him up with probing fingers, slick with oil. He was always tight, due to his shape shifting nature. His body would never truly adjust to sex but remain tight and closed as a virgin's, Damian was good at it though, make his muscles and flesh give in and open up to him like a flower, inviting him... The lips left his neck and he sighed with disappointment, still swayed and lazily calm by the manipulation of his mind he turned to receive the kiss he always got, but this time there was no kiss. A jolt of disappointment hit in his gut. He had almost forgotten. Almost lost the regret in the pleasure. Damian's lips were there, but hesitated...instead a oil slick finger slid inside of Nathaniel's body and he moaned and closed his eyes. Then they were there: Soft lips closing over his, a lapping tongue tasting of blood. He received it eagerly. Opened his mouth and let the vampire possess it. Saliva and blood. Iron and fire. Swirling, tasting, slid against his own little muscle.

Just take it, he thought. Take me as you please...Please!

He gasped for breath when the thick, throbbing cock pushed against his entrance and forced his muscles to yield. Damian had lifted one of his legs up in the air, held it by the knee, high above his body. He gave voice to his pleasure in Nathaniel's mouth as he pushed inside, filled Nathaniel's body with hard and smooth and nice.

The wereleopard purred and couldn't help but meet his thrusts with his own eager body. They met, they fucked. Their bodies moved against each other in rhythmical pleasure. Nathaniel slid down the oil-slick rod, impaled himself on the hard flesh while Damian flexed his hips and met him, buried himself inside of his body with powerful movements. Hard and fast, all the way...

Nathaniel clawed at the sheets and gave a little strangled scream when Damian's lips left his. Damian's palm lay flatly on top of his penis and allowed him rub against it, press himself to the slender fingers every time the vampire sunk inside. It didn't take him long to come. With a last complaining sound he was thrown into it, the overwhelming pleasure. His body spat salty milk over Damian's hand and the soft, cream colored sheets.
Damian rolled him over then, rose his torso a little and held him by the hips, rode him from behind like a predator over prey. Nathaniel lay on his stomach, his face was buried in a velvety pillow and he cried but wouldn't let Damian see the tears. It was still nice having him taking him like that; the grip on his hips, the thrusting of the hard, slick cock. The vampire's one hand was slippery with semen and slid on his hip-bone when he moved inside. Nathaniel wasn't a fool, not when it came to things like that. The vampire was angry...he could feel it.

Suddenly a sweep of hair across his back and Damian sought his neck again. Nathaniel immediately gave up hiding his tears and obediently arched neck off the pillow, offered it up to the searching lips, the heavy breathing that touched his skin with warm puffs of air.
He went for the scars, he should have known it. With his sharp fangs placed exactly on the markings he bit inside and erased them with new wounds. He didn't roll his mind this time and Nathaniel screamed. It hurt, badly. The vampire withdrew his fangs to let the blood flow freely into his mouth and Nathaniel convulsed. His body spasmed and arched with the sudden pain and Damian groaned on top of him, falling heavily down on his back. Nathaniel realized his contracting muscles had made the vampire come inside of him and despite the pain he was happy that he had. That he could provide the pleasure, even if the price was pain.

"Damian," so much in that word. Love and sorrow, affection and pain.

Blood and tears stained his neck now, Damian's tongue swept it all up. Closed the wounds with saliva while he slowly calmed on top of him, covering the cat's body with his taller, broader one. He was warm now, death had left him. His skin was soothing warmth against Nathaniel's. Like velvet, thick and soft.

"Nathaniel," Damian answered. His voice was thick with despair."Why," the vampire asked," do I still love you like this?"


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