My Little Ventrue Pt. 07 Ch. 01

He felt like a kid sneaking a cookie from the cookie jar.

He took her hips into his hands, put his weight on his knees, and pulled on her. She managed a tired moan, and opened her eyes long enough to look at him, but they closed again as he pulled her across the blankets and pillows a few inches. As her bountiful ass molded to his thighs, and her pussy swallowed every inch of him, she shivered again, and let her head turn to the side to rest on the pillows as her insides squeezed on him.

He knelt up straight, putting his weight onto both knees and getting his ass in the air, while keeping both hands on his lover's hips. Her butt lifted with him, and her long, flat stomach stuck out as her back arched to keep her shoulders flat to the pillows. If she'd been more aware of what was going on, she'd probably have hooked her thighs around his hips, but her legs dangled limply around him, spread and trembling as the woman clenched on his cock. Each motion was like fireworks of bliss along his aching length.

He held onto her hips nice and tight, pulled his own back, and thrust into her hard enough to make her whole body shake. It managed to pull a short, quiet mewl from the deadly predator, and Jack licked his lips at the sound; it was intoxicating. He thrust into her again, hitting her hard enough, and deep enough, he could feel her large ass jiggle against his thighs. The thrust also made her breasts flow back and forth along her chest even more than before, not unlike hitting a waterbed.

But the best part, was the sizzling heat of her cum coating his length. Another hard thrust, and her juices renewed, a small squirt of her cum enough to drench his cock, and leak down onto his testicles. When she squirted, her insides clenched hard, and he winced as he felt her depths grip his shaft tight enough it was difficult to move. But he managed another thrust, and another, until the heaven of her hot slit massaging and milking his length and ripe glans, had sparks of pleasure dancing down his cock and between his legs.

Part of him told him he should probably slow down. If Antoinette were human, she'd be so exhausted that she probably wouldn't be able to cum anymore, after the piston fingering he'd given her. But she was a vampire, and that meant she could take a lot more. And, seeing her like this, giving into pleasure and trusting him completely? He wanted this, needed this, and didn't want it to stop. He thrust into her again, hard, and again, until he felt the warmth of his cum gush up through his length.

With each wave of his cum, he thrust into her, slamming into her and causing her whole body to shake. Her mewls turned into moans, still quiet and tired, and each was met with a clench of her insides. It was a struggle to manage his own pleasure, to stay on his knees and upright, as each thrust meant her cunt squeezed on the now hypersensitive skin of his cock's head. It also meant each thrust was euphoric, almost painfully so, causing a gush of his warm cum to send sparks down his length as it poured into his lover

Soon both of their fluids were trickling down her ass and thighs, and his testicles. The mostly clear color of hers, mixing with the thick white of his, coated, mixed, and flowed out of Antoinette, and he licked his lips as he watched. He pulled out most of his length, groaned as her dripping slit milked on his length, and groaned again as he slowly slid it back into her, eyes locked on how her soaked pussy squeezed in spurts around his girth.

It almost felt like cheating, with how easy it was to make his lover feel pleasure. Antoinette had spent centuries developing her sexuality, and now that she'd let her guard down, it took little to make the deadly predator cum and cum hard. No wonder she didn't do it often, if she turned into this when she did, a bundle of sensitive nerves he could probably make cum by breathing on her neck. Like this, she was defenseless against him, and could do nothing but lie there on her throne of pillows, on her massive bed, and quiver in pleasure.

And, he needed more.

He used one hand to keep her body pressed to him, ass still in the air with how he was kneeling. His other took her leg, her long, curvy, smooth, delicious, creamy leg, and hooked it over his shoulder, before grabbing her hips again, and using the inside of his arm to keep the leg where it was. He repeated the process with his other hand, and smiled down at the Prince once both her legs were hooked on his shoulders. Her insides grew tighter with the position, and he shivered as her clenching pussy sent more waves of pleasure down his still sensitive glans.

He started thrusting again, hard. Antoinette's eyes opened, and she managed to blink at him as her lips parted. She moaned, a deep, husky sound, and her eyes closed once again as she melted onto her pillows. Her breasts bounced against her chest, mostly rolling toward her shoulders with gravity, and how her back arched upward, her hips in his hands. It created the most beautiful sight he could imagine, demanding he keep thrusting, harder, causing her ass to ripple against his thighs and her whole body to shake with each impact, so he could keep watching her breasts flow back and forth along her chest.

She came again. Instead of writhing or moaning, or thrusting her hips to meet him, or arching her back harder, she simply lay there, and shivered. Her juices trickled down, mixing with his own and soaking the blankets beneath them; it'd turn to the faintest trace of dust eventually, but for now, it was a mess of sex and heat. Something about her being so exhausted that she couldn't even squirm anymore, sent Jack over the edge, and he started pounding into her, causing the enormous bed to shake as he drove his cock into her cum-filled insides. More wet warmth soaked his cock, almost splashing his abdomen as it trickled out over his length, only to get lost in the mess as he thrust into her again, and again, earning more of her fluids.

Seeing her lie there, exhausted and open, quiet moans sneaking out through her parted lips, was too much. He stopped thrusting, and slowly let Antoinette's ass back down onto the blankets. White cum dripped from her clenching slit, almost washed away by her trickling juices and squeezing muscles. But it was her breasts that drew his eyes, and he licked his lips as he crawled over her pelvis and legs, and sat on her stomach.

With her torso still propped up on the pillows, gravity pulled her breasts down toward her stomach, and out along her ribs. He reached down onto both sides of her, scooped her breasts inward, and as he leaned forward so his cock rested along her upper stomach, he buried his cum-soaked length in the softness of her bosom. As much as her insides were a sinful combination of tight muscle and dripping heat, the softness of her breasts enveloping his girth was a guilty pleasure he'd never grow tired of. Her breasts were more than big enough to completely hide his cock, and it wasn't like he had a small one; in fact, he had a normal sized one, which looked pretty large on his small body. It made it all the better, when her massive breasts overflowed his thighs and pelvis, as he began to fuck the valley of alabaster softness.

Antoinette managed to open her eyes again, though she was still blatantly exhausted, and trapped in orgasm aftershocks. A light brush of his thumbs along her hard nipples was enough to make her shiver, and she closed her eyes again as she sank onto the pillows. It was heaven, feeling the supple, heavy mass of her breasts mold snug to his legs and pelvis. A gentle thrust was enough to cause them to ripple against him, jiggling as he pinned them around his length, and overflowed his fingers.

He leaned down, bending his back so he could keep his cock snug between her breasts, and found her lips with his. A crack of her red gaze showed through before she closed her eyes again. It was surprising, that she'd given in this hard. It filled his stomach with butterflies, knowing she was willing to do that, after what had happened. Knowing he could make her cum so hard she practically went into a coma, was also a huge stroke to his ego, one he would look to create again if he could find the opportunity. But for now, take advantage while you can, Jack. Antoinette had gone totally submissive, and he'd be damned if he was going to waste the chance it provided.

He kissed her again, and again. With anyone else, bending his back down this way while doing this would have been impossible, but Antoinette was tall, and her breasts were large enough they reached his pelvis without him having to sit up high on her stomach. He was free to kiss her, and touch her forehead with his, as he started to cum into the softness of her bosom. Instead of the vise grip of hot, milking muscle, the silky texture of her breasts caressed his aching glans tenderly, and invited him to coat her chest in his cum, rather than demanding it. He was more than happy to give into it, and he raised his head so he could look down and admire the sight of his cum flowing up along her sternum, as he fucked her breasts.

He scooted up a little higher, so her breasts outright buried his thighs, and overflowed his pelvis and up onto his abdomen. Cum oozed down her sternum, coating her breasts, even as it poured over their contours underneath her collar, to start dripping down her ribs. The moment the tingling waves settled, his glans stopped being hypersensitive, and his clenching inner muscles calmed down, he started thrusting again. He needed more.

"My love," Antoinette said, eyes slowly opening to full, "you are... ravenous, tonight."

"I can't help it. Two weeks is way too long." It wasn't a biological need; he was a corpse after all, and didn't experience those urges innately. It was very much a psychological need however, both to enjoy sex, but also to spend more time with skin-on-skin contact with Antoinette. There was something magical about that, skin on skin, touch on touch, something overwhelming and soothing at the same time, about feeling their bodies against each other. He needed more.

The elder vampire, with a quiet, pleasant moan, stopped quivering, and slowly slid her arms up to touch his wrists. Her fingers teased, inching up his arms until they reached his biceps, and she held his arms there, helping press her breasts together for him with her own biceps as she smiled up at him.

"I must apologize for that."

"No... apology necessary. It happened. We move on, right?" He tried his best to smile down at her, but he was trapped in carnal need. Autopilot. His hips moved forward in a consistent fucking rhythm, and he stared down at how her breasts, squished between his hands and her arms, kept his cock hidden despite him kneeling straight up. It made everything tighter, and her silky skin squeezed on him, his own cum keeping everything sliding back and forth in heavenly bliss.

"Perhaps. Or, perhaps I was a fool, for not... for fearing that I could not feel safe with you, like this." Her legs raised, putting her knees and thighs to his back and butt.

"I'll never let anything come between us, Antoinette. Ever." And he meant it. No matter what he did with Beatrice, no matter what crazy shit he'd do to get revenge, no matter how loud or strong his curse grew to be, he'd never let anything get between him and the Prince.

He leaned down again, and set his lips to hers. She returned his kiss, eagerly, and offered him some controlled moans as his thrusting got faster. The Prince moved her chest with him, matching his rhythm, and helping him reach another orgasm in record time.

He lifted his head, and stared down at how her breasts, squashed to his body, were soon painted white in another layer of his cum. Kneeling up gave him more leverage too, and he squeezed her breasts together a little harder, fingers sinking into their softness, until the gentle pressured forced out waves of his white fluid. More joined the mess, until it was overflowing the upper arches of each breast and trickling down along their sides. Each thrust meant the soaked, wet, silky skin of her breasts massaged his length, but also that her breasts jiggled hypnotically, despite the both of them holding them. The sensation of cum-soaked breasts hitting his thighs and abdomen, as he poured his cum into their crevice, was euphoric.

But eventually he was done, and he let go of her breasts, exposing the soaked valley between them. Antoinette spread her arms, letting the two pillows pull to the sides of her chest, before she brought her hands to each of them, and began to massage his cum into her alabaster skin. Good god in heaven.

"I am glad to hear that, my love," she said, growing still and relaxing onto her pillows once more as she grinned at him. "I would hate to learn Elaine stole you away from me."

"Who?"

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~~Damien~~

He couldn't stop looking at her. She couldn't stop looking at him. It was a good thing he was a corpse, because he knew his hormones would be raging, and he'd be walking around with an erection.

Damien, Fiona, Matthew, Vicky, and Parker, were together once again. The sweeps didn't get to stop just because of the incident with Jack at the hospital; if anything, Julias's death did the opposite. The Invictus were in overdrive now, with every sweeper team running almost every night, and the age bracket having increased to include younger Kindred. It was a bad idea, including younger Kindred who'd only get themselves killed in a confrontation with hunters, especially these hunters. Angela, Jeremiah, and her crew were anything but the usual hunters Damien had been warned of by Lucas, so long ago. These were trained soldiers, professional killers, who lived and breathed teamwork, not a band of disgruntled humans who wanted revenge for a dead family member.

Keeping his mind on the hunters was proving difficult. It didn't matter to Fiona that their lives were in danger, and that, out here in North Side, hunters could be hiding around any corner. Or maybe it did matter, and that was why she kept glancing at him and smiling, and grinning. She was a danger junkie, and being in danger always put her in a bouncy mood.

The two of them slowly drifted further back from the rest of the group, putting maybe fifty feet between them and the team, before Damien fully turned to face Fiona. An alleyway, high walls of two office buildings, and corners cutting off light sources, meant the two of them were in darkness. He liked darkness. So did she. She was darkness, in ways he could never be, and he had to admit, there was an appeal in that dangerous side of her.

There was also an appeal in the less dangerous side of her, the cute little redhead in the jeans and brown leather jacket, with frizzy red hair and freckles. There was appeal in the way she looked up at him with beaming golden brown eyes. There was extreme appeal in how she bit her bottom lip when she did.

And then, there was the appeal in how, when he reached out to touch her, she didn't hesitate to lean into it. He had no idea, no idea at all, how amazing a thing it'd be, to have someone lean into his touch when he wanted to touch them. Power in touch, in skin on skin contact, in the movement toward each other, in eye contact. It was overpowering, mesmerizing, and good Lord, how had he denied himself this for so long?

He set a hand on her neck, another on her hip, and came in closer, pulling her in as he did. She let out a small mewl, pushed up onto the toes of her black boots, and kissed him. Heat, warmth, subtle wetness, he melted into the feel of it as he pressed his lips to hers, and—

"Ick!" she said, pushing both hands against his chest, turning her head to the side, and coughing.

"What? What, what did I—"

She laughed and put a finger on his lips. "Sorry! But yer lips are all dry and dusty, cause ye're nae Blushing Life."

"Oh. Um, I could—"

"Nae, we cannae stop our jobs, just cause... we want... to touch." Her hands began to roam his body, squeezing and pressing on his arms, before drifting around and slipping around his waist. She was quite literally saying no, while her body was literally saying yes with its body language.

In the past, that'd have been way too confusing a signal. Now, it was only mildly confusing. Progress.

He was wearing a trench coat, thick, black, and heavy. Some called it a duster. Fiona called it sexy. He figured it'd be a reasonable change in fashion, considering it was the same sort of clothes the sheriff wore, and the two of them were similar in more ways than one. Either way, Fiona agreed with the wardrobe adjustment, though she didn't know it was Maria's idea. The small woman smiled up at him as her hands drifted around his waist, squeezed and pressed on his abs and back, and kneaded the fabric of his suit underneath.

He returned the favor, unable to stop himself as he gazed down at the fiery creature. His fingers found her back and waist, and while one drifted up to sneak into her hair, earning some more mewls from her, the other slid down, and gently squeezed on the mass of her ass. It was a large ass, curvy, and it filled her jeans to the point of tightness. Fiona had some muscle on her, but not as much as his coworkers. She was soft, thin, but with just enough plumpness to her to make her features supple and inviting.

She also had enormous breasts, matching her hourglass figure perfectly, and he growled down at her as one of his roaming hands found them. Even through her jacket, shirt, and bra, he could feel the softness of them and how they molded to his fingers. Better, was when he placed both hands behind her, one on her ass, and pressed her to his body so he could feel her breasts squash to his chest.

No wonder kine everywhere were addicted to touch, craved it, dreamed of it, wrote about it day and night. Every part of him wanted to hold her, feel her heartbeat, listen to her breathe, and kiss her. Every part of him wanted to grab her, press her to him, and bury his member inside her so he could feel her clenching muscles soak him as he drank her blood until she was limp, exhausted, trembling, and helpless.

They hadn't had sex yet, and it was killing the both of them. The problem was a lack of time. When he was awake, he was working double time, dealing with the hunter threat, and when he wasn't working he was asleep. He had, on average, twelve hours a day, while she had more to work with. And the devil woman had made sure to use that free time to take more pictures of herself, and send them to him to taunt him. At this point, he was intimately familiar with the heavy teardrop shape her breasts made when she was nude, and how delicious her milky white skin looked when squeezed. Lots, and lots of selfies to torment him when he woke up each dusk.

He'd had sex with Vrall, and he looked forward to doing that again as well. Except, now he knew how good sex felt, and it was on his mind all the time. He needed more. God, he needed more. And Fiona was taunting him, teasing him, playing with him, bringing him closer to a bursting point every time he went out on a sweep with her. So evil. Why did evil have to be so delicious?

He leaned down closer, and breathed in the smell of her neck, her flesh, her life and her perfume. "You're killing me."

"Ye're the one killing me! I have Vrall's experience with ye, but nae my own! Vrall, she... she was right, ye ken? About... the things... I like..."

He growled into her ear. Never did he picture himself as an aggressive sort, someone who had to act on impulse, masculine instincts, or wanton need. But Fiona flashed her doe eyes at him, bit her bottom lip again, and he shivered as the Kindred inside him demanded he take her. His hands found hers, and slowly tightened his fingers around them, locking them into his grip as he pressed the backs of them against the wall behind her.