My Little Ventrue Pt. 02 Ch. 12

Half a minute later, she finally found the strength to lift her head, and look at Jack.

Jack had been watching, and the boy must have been waiting for it. The moment they made eye contact, Jack straddled her leg closest to the bed and hooked her other leg over his shoulder. He kept her leg there with one hand, while his other wrapped around his cock, and he guided it toward her opened, leaking pussy.

Her orgasm had only just settled, and her cunt was still suffering spasms of pleasure that made her tremble each time. Perhaps that was what the boy wanted. There was a look of ravenous hunger on his face as he prodded the dripping lips of her cunt, and when she shivered or squirmed with more sparks of pleasure, he groaned with obvious rapture.

She almost opened her mouth to tell him to stop, to let her rest, to let the spasms stop so she could take a moment to recover. Even if it was his fantasy, she was at her limit. But Jack eased his cock's head into her squeezing muscles, and slammed his hips forward.

She reached out with a hand to press against his chest, but her insides were beyond sensitive to his touch now. The feel of his hard girth opening her again and burying itself into her balls deep with no ceremony or gentleness blurred pleasure together. Orgasm coursed through her again, re-summoned by his aggression, and with each following thrust from the Ventrue, she found a squeak coming out of her, a noise she could not remember the last time she had made.

It was all a sopping wet mess of cum, juices, and noises now. Jack held the leg he had hooked over his shoulder with both hands, and used it to help drive himself forward into her, despite how she pressed her hand against his chest in silent begging. He ignored her, and continued to fuck her, hard. The look in his eyes was one of pure sexual need, and she found herself delighted -- if a little shocked - that he wanted to fuck her with such animal lust. But a moment later, her mind went blank and her eyes closed as pleasure again turned her into a trembling mess.

Several thrusts later, she gushed all over Jack's cock. With her leg over his shoulder, and her on her side with Jack's knees on either side of her, the mess of her cum went down one of his legs and down her pelvis. Warm, wet, messy. She had lost all control and could only lay there while the small man straddling her other leg fucked her. He was so rough, her heavy breasts bounced up and down against her torso and along the bed, but he did not stop.

If it had been Jack's first orgasm, he would have cum sooner, she was sure. But she had drained him of his first before, so she laid there, squeaking with each thrust, cumming again and squirting again, for several more painful, blissful minutes. Vaguely, with what few thoughts she was able to muster, she was aware this was the sort of thing she often did to Julee, forcing her ghoul to cum herself into near unconsciousness.

She did not even realize when Jack had started to cum. Normally she would love to milk him of each drop, but she could barely control her position on the bed, and had no control over the powerful muscles spasms that had her trembling on his cock. He was gazing down at her, love and lust in his eyes, and perhaps a bit of surprise. He even kissed her ankle where it was resting against the side of his jaw.

Antoinette, on the other hand, did everything she could to get her body to calm down. Her cunt was squeezing down on his cock in the random spasms of orgasm, and had grown sore from his rough treatment. She had never expected the small man to have such an aggressive side, let alone to use it on her.

Jack had slipped free of her at some point; she had not noticed. The orgasm aftershocks were still working through her, and she delighted in their waves. Jack was still straddling her leg with one of his knees in front of her stomach; she put her hand on it, and rested her head on the pillow she had destroyed while the ebb and tide of climax drifted up and down her body, and finally began to settle once again.

"Jack," she finally managed to say.

" ... yes ... my Prince?"

She turned her head enough to look at him. He was caressing her raised leg with teasing fingertips, and the look on his face was one of utmost guilt. And a little mischievous joy. The rascal!

"Your fantasy ... was to ... force my orgasm so?"

"Sorry! Sorry I ... I just always ... it's just always been a huge turn on, the idea of a woman cumming super hard, a lot, over and over. And then to cum inside her when she's down, trembling, defenseless, and stuff? That ... I ... yeah." He set her leg down, shifted over to sit on his knees beside her, and grinned like a thief who had gotten away with the treasure. " ... you soaked me too." The pride that beamed from him was cosmic.

With an inviting smile, she slowly reached for his throat, gently wrapped it with her fingers, and then yanked him down to slam him onto his back beside her. A chokeslam, she believed it was called. His eyes went wide with shock, but she loosened her grip and leaned over him to place kisses upon his lips.

She smiled down at him, and kissed him again. "That was very daring of you. My legs still tremble."

He smiled up at her all the more, but with a healthy mixture of fear too. Good, she did not want him to get too daring after all.

"Are you mad?"

"No. I do admit I prefer to be in control of my pleasure, and enjoy slower, more manageable climaxes." She kissed him again, and edged herself across the bed so her arm and leg were draped over his body. To hold him so while the final tingles of pleasure worked down her thighs was pleasing. "But, I understand. I do the same to Ashley and Julee every so often, and delight in making them cum until they're exhausted, soaked, and begging for a moment's rest."

"So hot."

"Indeed. And, as you said ... I soaked you." She reached down and ran her fingers up and down his now flaccid and relaxed member. It was hard to tell where the lubricant ended and the mess of juices began.

"So ... so hot."

"Perhaps a small warning next time, little Ventrue? Such rough sex was a shock." She hugged the boy closer to her, and nudged her nose into his cheek. "I am a soft creature, am I not?" To emphasize, she pushed her wet breasts into his side and chest. They were more than large enough to overwhelm his small torso.

He shivered underneath her. "So ... soft..."

"But I look forward to such a display of aggression in the future, my Jack, and will delight in indulging more fantasies. Though I do hope you realize I owe you for such uncouth behavior!"

"You, uh ... you do?"

"Indeed. Tell me, little Ventrue, do you know the pleasure of a prostate massage?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of them basked in the warmth of her hot tub, with the blush of life still going so they could enjoy the tingling of hot water on skin. Perhaps it was the most cliché thing in the world, two lovers sharing a hot tub, but it was a luxury she felt earned. And it was the first time she had ever done such a thing with someone she loved.

Loved. She smiled, raised a hand to touch her lip, and put her other hand onto the boy's chest. She loved him. He loved her. Just thinking it was making her giddy, young, and overwhelmed with a powerful ache to hold the boy closer.

But he could not get closer than he was. She was laying back on the slanted slope of the tub, and the small boy was between her legs, laying down and back against her with his head between her breasts, facing away. She did not raise her head though, instead she kept her eyes closed, smiled to herself at the feeling of the boy resting against her body, and roamed her hands upon his chest with caressing fingers.

He took one of her hands into his, netted their fingers, and kissed her knuckles.

"I love you," he said.

Butterflies in her stomach, that ache that demanded she hold him, warmth on her fingers even without the blush of life, it all mixed for a delirious need that made her feel like a little girl in her man's arms.

"I love you," she said, and she hugged him to her chest with a gentle squeeze of her free hand. Those three words may have seemed trite, perhaps even overdone to the modern couple, but to Antoinette, they were honest and powerful. Jack knew her well to not play with it, like Beatrice probably would with Julias.

"Hey, I heard you play the cello?" he said.

"The cello, where did -- ah, one of my servants?" She raised her head for a moment to look down at the head of the boy between her breasts, but the conversation held no danger to her anymore. If she could not talk about what she remembered of her past with her love, who could she? "I did, decades ago. But ... where I learned is a lost memory."

"Oh." He brought her hand up to his face and held it to his cheek. "God I'm a jackass. I get mad because you never talk about your past, but ... I remember you telling me now about fading memories. Yeah, sorry..."

"Elders are often insecure about our lost memories, and I apologize for being distant about your questions." She drifted her hand higher, up along his sternum, his neck, and his ear, until her fingers came to rest upon his buzzed head, and she stroked the interesting texture lightly. "But, ask, and I will try to answer what I can."

"Wow, ok! What music do you listen to most?"

"Do not ask silly questions. I listen to the greats, as does any elder Kindred. Beethoven, Mozart, and Bach, but the fingers of Chopin are perhaps the most intriguing."

The boy laughed and turned halfway in her lap to look at her. "I could introduce you to some metal music."

Oh no. "You will have quite the time convincing me to listen to such loud, vulgar noise!"

When she raised her head again and opened her eyes, she found Jack had turned around completely. He put his hands onto both sides of the tub, and leaned over her so he could lay upon her and nudge his nose into hers. Then he kissed her, with his mouth just barely open and a grin on his lips.

"Mmm?"

"That's all I wanted," he said. "That's what was missing. A little banter, a little knowledge about you, a lot of touching." Then the boy kissed her again, and again, no encouragement from her needed.

"Even more touching?"

"Yes! Yeah I ... want to do more things."

"Oh," she said, and she put her hands onto his back. Quite the ruttish little man, her Jack was. Good. "Now?"

"No, no not right now. Right now I want to just ... forget about tomorrow, forget about the Danse, forget about Damien and ... forget about all that shit. Just want to lay here in heaven." He turned around again, and slid back down into a comfortable spot between her legs.

She sat up and wrapped her arms around the tiny thing between her knees, her breasts to the back of his shoulders. Her hands found his again, netted their fingers, and she hugged him tighter while keeping his hands in hers. She kissed the top of his head, his ear, and pressed her legs together to push his together as well. He was completely wrapped in her limbs.

"You know I will not let tomorrow hurt you, my little Ventrue." She rested her cheek against the top of his head and squeezed him a little more. That ache in her insides, painful, overwhelming, was only worsened the tighter she held the boy. And yet she could not bring herself to stop, she wanted more. "I will be the soft place you can rest your head, Jack, and I will be the force that destroys those that threaten you."

He chuckled a little in her arms, but they were soft chuckles, and heavy. "I'm very grateful, but it'd be great if we could go a while without Kindred killing Kindred." The young man turned his head enough to look up at her, and his eyes were also heavy, even sad. "Is it like this for vampires everywhere?"

"Often so. Usually the Invictus rule or the Lancea et Sanctum rule, as the First Estate and the Second Estate, and their rules are often stern, totalitarian, which leads to rebel violence. In most cities, Kindred often struggle to simply not kill each other." She turned her head to meet his gaze from above, and leaned in to nudge her nose to his. "We dragons are rare, and dragon Princes are almost unheard of. It took the work of ages to give this city what little peace it has between Kindred."

"Wow. I got lucky." His silly smirk returned, and he pushed his nose back against hers. "Really lucky."

"I am the truly fortunate one here, little Ventrue. Do you know how difficult it is for elder Kindred to find someone they can trust, let alone ... love?" That word ripped the confidence and control out of her like nothing else, but when Jack nudged their noses once again and gave her a quick kiss, he soothed her frightened soul. Even the beast inside her, ancient, patient, and never off its earned throne, was happy to share its seat with the little boy's beast.

Like two purring cats, wrapped together in a yin-yang.

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. What could she say? It was a waste to even try, to even attempt to describe the lost treasure that she had found, that this boy had dug up for her. Every time she closed her eyes, it ached inside her, reduced her to nothing but a young girl, and she was forced to open her eyes and hug Jack closer to her body as if he were about to vanish.

But he didn't vanish, he just blinked up at her when she hugged him, and returned her kiss when she kissed him.

"Do you ... think you could play the cello for me later?" he said.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'd really like to hear that." He nipped at her lip a little, something very playful compared to his usual nature, and nudged his nose up against her jaw before putting more kisses against her neck.

So long, so infuriatingly long since a man had put soft kisses on her neck of his own volition. She melted in moments.

"I will play you for, mon amour. My little Ventrue."