Cassandra

Six months later

Cass awoke to an empty bed for the first time in months. Although Qadaire didn’t require as much sleep, he usually stayed in bed until she drifted off and always snuck back in before she woke.

Not this morning. Her heart thumped, and she wondered if he could hear it from the lab on the first floor of their home. Apparently so, since Qadaire filled her vision the next moment. Zero hopped off the bed just in time. Q was at her side, kissing her knuckles.

“Is everything ready?” she asked.

“Yes, my love.”

“Okay, we’re really doing this.”

He’d moved on to her wrist, where he placed feather-soft kisses. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I want this.” She did. She wanted nothing more than to spend forever with this man. It was a truth that resonated deep in her bones. Still, a breeze of nerves rose the hairs on the back of her neck. “I definitely want this.”

“In that case, yes, we’re really doing this. Come.”

She took his hand and let him twirl her into his arms, sweeping her off her feet with a sure grip. She wanted to be clean and fresh for the transformation, so their first stop was the bath. The whole house had been made for them, so all the doorways, hallways, and bathroom facilities were tall and wide enough for Qadaire’s wings.

Life in the dragon kingdom was exactly as she’d hoped. Q was thriving. He spearheaded a community passionate about sustainability, which was more difficult with so many species needing different accommodations. That didn’t deter him. He had so much time on his hands and so many new things to fill it with that Cass found herself missing him in the lab sometimes. That longing always turned into spicy reunions of their bodies and hearts.

He wasn’t the only one busy. Cass was working side by side with the lead pathologists of the realm. It was a new challenge, one that grew more interesting every day. Between the two of them, the seemingly unlimited knowledge of the realm was wholly conquerable.

The human world would never be fully behind her. Qadaire had found a way to strengthen the technology between the two realms. Ali and Mark were only a few texts, a portal jump, and a short, spicy flight away. As for her old job, well, that wasn’t the best legacy to leave behind. The clinical trials were a success, but her old team hadn’t been able to hide her unethical means of discovering the cure. In time, the public’s outrage was somewhat nullified by gratitude, and she was quickly dismissed as a quack who’d lost her shit in a hard, traumatic case. Qadaire and Dana were still working on his book and would publish it as fiction. Maybe some other couple out there would read it together and realize they weren’t alone.

Qadaire lovingly lathered her with soap, his gray eyes as adoring as ever. He ran the loofah over her with his upper right hand, the other three half-washing, half-groping her.

She couldn’t stop shaking her thighs. Q’s gaze flicked to her nervous habit, a subtle, sly grin making its way over his features. She bit her lip and moved her hands to his chest instead.

“It’s going to work, right?” When she’d first asked about being Turned, he’d had too many reservations. As was his wont, he started secretly seeking knowledge while she slept. A couple months later, he’d broached the subject again, saying he found more information in an old records library in the council building.

“It’s going to work, dewdrop.”

He warbled as he moved his ministrations down, the loofah grazing over her lovehandles, her hips, her thighs. He bent a knee and kneeled before her, lifting her left leg over his shoulder. His warbles went crazy as he dragged in an exaggerated breath, then leaned into her sex to take another. She grabbed the feathers on the back of his head as he pressed through her folds, rubbing his nose, mouth, his whole face against her pussy.

“Q!”

“Mmm?” He dragged his slightly coarse tongue through her folds, dampening them further.

“We’re gonna save it for the Turning!”

“That was your idea.”

“You love my ideas.”

She wanted to know just how powerful that aphrodisiac was. When they’d faked her Turning for the experiment, she’d been so drunk she would’ve done anything for his cock to fill her, even though she’d been upset and heartbroken at the time. Now that they were in love, she was looking forward to the boundless pleasure his venom would bring. And the absolute pounding.

“I guess a little warm-up isn’t such a bad idea,” she breathed as he continued to lick her seam, dipping the tip of his tongue inside her but ignoring her clit. She fisted his feathers and used the leg around his neck as leverage to drive herself over his face.

Qadaire groaned but replaced her foot to the ground and stood, claiming her mouth. She could taste herself on his tongue.

“We should save it for the Turning,” he whispered against her lips. She giggled and swatted him.

After the shower, she banished him from the bedroom so she could get ready. They’d planned the whole thing as though it was ceremonial, because, well, you only lose your mortality once. She donned the black lace lingerie set, complete with garters and knee-highs, and braided her hair. She wasn’t sure what he had planned, but she knew it would involve multiple orgasms.

“Okay, dude. You got this,” she told the mirror. Behind her, Zero was wagging his tail like he knew something was going on. “You stay upstairs, goofball.”

Another steadying breath and she made her way to the hallway balcony, where she could see down to the foyer. The tan carpet was soft under her feet while she gripped the smooth brown railing. There was no red allowed in their home.

Black and white rose petals started at the stairs and continued past what was visible to her. She ran her fingers on the railing as she descended, her heart pitter-pattering like rain on top of their new greenhouse. She reached the bottom of the stairs, took one step, then felt Q behind her. His lower arms encircled her waist and he sucked on her earlobe. He trailed a silky fabric up her stomach, and she glanced down to see it was a long, thin, black slip, which he proceeded to wrap over her eyes.

A thrill ran up the trail the blindfold had taken, shooting straight through her core and tightening her nipples until they teased against the lacy bra.

“You are mine, dewdrop.” His tone was dark, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. “Do you understand?”

“I’m yours.”

“By the end of this, you will be mine in more than words.”

Her clit pulsed. She arched her back, leaning her head into his neck with an involuntary whimper. “What do you mean?”

“I mean”—he scraped his fangs over the length of her neck, tracing her vital artery with foreboding precision—“we will be forever tied by a blood bond.” He pinched her nipples through the lace, tugging them tight until they extended in his fingers. She sucked in a breath as she felt them pop through holes in the lace, then he ghosted his palms over them and they tightened even more. His lower left hand cupped her sex possessively. “You will never be able to cut our ties. You are mine, for eternity.”

“Qadaire,” she pleaded. She wanted him to stroke her clit, keenly aware of his unmoving, steady hand. She tried to tilt her hips, craving just one brush of friction, but he denied her. He swooped her into his arms.

When he set her down, it was in the faux-leather tantra chair they loved to fuck on. Its S-shaped design was perfect for all the spots, the width of it allowing Qadaire to settle around her lap, wings and all. The half-circle cushion was in place, so it was a flat surface. This chair always reminded her of the bench where he’d first eaten her out in the greenhouse.

This was nothing like that moment a lifetime ago. She could smell the cinnamon candle he had burning, mixing with his familiar scent. Qadaire skimmed the sharp tips of his nails up her inner thighs, bringing all her baby hairs to attention. His touch was followed by another, a leathery item, which he cuffed around her thigh, then her wrist. She tugged her wrist to find that the cuffs were connected. He bound the other side, rendering her hands useless at her sides.

“Comfortable, dewdrop?” He teased his hands up her thighs again, that soft touch making her rattle the cuffs. Before she could answer, a lone finger brushed her outer seam through the lace and she whimpered like injured prey. “Hmm?”

“Y-yes.” she squealed at the end of the word as the finger bypassed her thong and dipped shallowly inside her. “Fuck, Q!”

His responding chuckle was etched with promise. His finger remained inside her only past the fingernail as his thumb came to rest to the side of her clit. He rubbed the sensitive flesh around it on either side in a V pattern, avoiding the source of her need and dodging her attempts to rub it on him. Two hands came to her breasts, lifting them and kneading them, playing with their weight through the lacy garment.

“What a treat you are tonight, dewdrop.”

Qadaire’s words cut off with a guttural sound and she grinned at the thought of him possibly humping the seat. That familiar groan happened often when he played with her body like this. It was slightly less frequent, but still he sometimes came before they joined together. It happened the most when he would request she smother him. It took a while before she’d stopped being afraid of asphyxiating him. He would get so wrapped up in breathing her cunt that she would feel him spray her back.

“I’m ready, Q.” He was taking too damn long.

All of his hands disappeared. In the absence of sight, her body prickled with anticipation. Then she felt him, everywhere. Two hands trailed up her thighs, parting them. Her arms fell away, too, until she was laid out before him for the taking. Two sets of claws teased her waist, her belly, her breasts, then down her arms. Somehow, more claws teased her thighs, her calves, her ankles. Behind the silky blindfold, she found herself wondering if he had an extra set of hands she’d never noticed.

When his hot breath teased her through her lace panties, she rankled her restraints, arching, her pussy seeking his tongue. He retreated, then licked up her inner thigh to the spot her leg connected to her sex, licked that crease, and repeated on the other side. She whined and squirmed in annoyance.

“You are mine.” He licked her left thigh again. “Say it.”

“I’m yours. I’m all yours, Qadaire.”

As his name was leaving her mouth, his fangs pierced her thigh. She cried out. It was more painful in that spot than it’d been on her wrist, the sensitivity enhanced by all he’d done to prepare her.

His cool venom coursed through her bloodstream. Like last time, the skin around the bite went numb. When he didn’t immediately pull away, the feeling was followed by a warmth that trickled all throughout her body, until she felt her every vein pulsing with a powerful desire. He stayed there a long time, long enough that her body began to move of its own accord. She knew she had to hang onto her wits enough to drink his blood, but it was feeling increasingly impossible. Her already black vision was tunneling, the aching emptiness at her core unbearable. It was almost painful, a hundred times stronger than the pale need of last time. Somehow she knew that if he didn’t stuff her full her soon, her soul would seep from her body.

“Q.”

A rustle of wings. She hung her mouth open, drops of blood peppered her tongue, then a stream came more quickly. As she swallowed, she moaned, the unexpected sensuality in the bitter taste of his essence making that fucking emptiness grow exponentially.

“Good, dewdrop. Very good.”

Words were beyond her. Her legs twitched every time she tried to reach for him, but her arms weren’t listening to her. Oh, right, he’d bound them.

Moans, whimpers, and whines, they poured from her lips like a needy chorus. She wanted to beg him, please, please, end this. Make me come. Fill me, fuck, please fill me. But she couldn’t form the words.

Blessedly, she finally felt his hands on her again. Everywhere. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but he was everywhere, all at once. Everywhere, his claw-tipped nails coaxing some of the pins and needles from her body. His fingers twisted and tugged at her nipples. The fabric caging her breasts split in two and she gasped as her mordacious lover bit the flesh around her areola.

Another claw sliced the lace on her thong from her asshole to the top of the waistband, barely caressing her flesh. With her inflamed nub out in the open, she almost cried with relief when he flicked it with his coarse tongue. Her world spun as he dragged his tongue through her slick folds, her thighs rising with her wrists in tow.

“Oooh,” she whined nonsensically. “Fff . . . ohhh.”

“Don’t worry, dewdrop.” Another long lick, sloppier this time, his hands around her thighs letting him push his tongue into her further. “I’ve got you. I”ll carry you through this, as I always have.”

“Mmmmmph.”

Just as stars were bursting behind the silk fabric, he started to really go at it. He laved her from the inside out, never letting up on her nipples at the same time. When he finally slipped one lone digit into her cunt, she growled like a lioness in heat. He added another, his warbles sending vibrations through her every nerve as he suctioned himself on her clit and sucked like it was the very oxygen he needed to live.

The orgasm that’d been building since his fangs pierced her thigh now rocketed through her being until she was yanked totally out of her body. It was as though she could look down from above and see the panting human she used to be, limbs useless to either side, a powerful vampire feeding from her pussy.

She was on the brink of something more.

The climax ebbed but didn’t fade all the way, remaining around the edges of her consciousness. Every inch of her skin was crackling with heat. She focused on the sensations of tongue and fingers, of which there were three inside her now, pumping and curving in a hypnotic rhythm. Her other four senses were still elusive, dulled by the venom, but returned enough that she caught the crude slurping sounds he made as he devoured her cunt, his fingers wetly coaxing obscene noises from her hole. The sound of faux-leather rubbing against flesh informed her he was, indeed, humping the divan.

She fucking loved how much he enjoyed being between her legs. Another orgasm tore from her. She rode his face as much as she could with such little leverage until her body was limp again, and again, she traveled out of it. This time, she was far away from the person she’d been an hour ago, like she was transformed into something new.

Something fucking starving.

“Q-Qadaire,” she said hoarsely. That she was able to speak was a miracle, and a clue that she was ready to consent to more. “Fuck me. F-f-fill me. Please.”

A breeze of his wings and she felt his weight above her. He lifted her legs—still attached to her wrists—to either side of his hips and slid the half-moon cushion from below them, settling her on his lap. His stiff cock settled directly against her sopping cunt. She instinctively reached for it but couldn”t. He drove himself through her slickness and they groaned collectively.

His mouth closed on her right breast, sucking it with force until a good chunk was in his mouth. He flicked her taut nipple, still so sensitive from all his torture, and she bucked over his saturated cock. He moved to her other breast and did the same.

“Please!”

“I know, my darling. You’ll feel better when I pump your cunt full of seed, until you drip around my cock.” He pinched her nipple again and whispered erotically against her ear, “Then I will fuck your greedy little ass, and fill it with my come, too.”

She made a guttural sound that couldn’t have come from a human. He took hold of her calves, pushing them up until she was spread open like a holiday feast. His cock, wet on both sides with their fluids, prodded at her opening, then pulled away. She whined, both hating and loving the way her gaped hole was affected by the open air, fluttering hopelessly. When he prodded her again, he sank the wide tip of his cock inside but held her still by the ankles.

“Oh my fuck.” She’d never realized how filling the tip of his cock was.

She’d never felt pleasure like this. He lowered her down an inch by moving her ankles. His cock filled her with slow, agonizing centimeters, until their hips matched up and another wave of orgasm wrested control of her body.

The blindfold slipped over her head at the same time the restraints were undone. She looked down to see their union, where her torn black panties outlined the spot her pussy stretched around his girth.

“Do you see the way your cunt needs me?” Qadaire spoke, his tone still nearly a stranger’s, full of heady desire and something so dark it was almost menacing.

She loved it. He’d been coming into his own since they’d been together, and she was slowly seeing how sensual he truly was. Once he’d embraced his multiple limbs and saw how much pleasure they could bring her, his mindset had followed suit. Now, he said the most filthy things, knowing he drove her wild.

“See the way you cling to me? You are so beautiful wrapped around my gray cock. Let me see you unravel around me, dewdrop.”

His thumb vibrated over her clit. A lubricated finger teased her asshole, swirling around the taut skin and making it flutter. His mouth captured her nipple again, simultaneously driving his cock deeper. This damn chair, it had superpowers. She shouted his name as yet another orgasm pulsed through her, building until it crashed around her like the waves of a tempest. Q held her slack body and battered her insides. Braced with one knee on the floor, he slammed into her aching core over and over, two fingers now fucking her asshole in the same rhythm.

“Breathtaking. You are breathtaking when you come for me.”

He slowed their rhythm, allowing her body to come down from the high. Through the haze, she saw him pick up the glass paperweight that encased purple poppies. The poppies from his greenhouse. Her skin zinged with excitement. He’d made the glass memento with a hint of magic. It could morph into any shape, from a paperweight to a flower sculpture.

It morphed into a tapered cylinder, the tip smaller in circumference than the base. He rubbed it against his cloaca, coating it with viscous lubricant.

“Let me ease your suffering, dewdrop,” he said in that soothing timbre.

“Please, please!”

He kissed the fold of her lovehandle, making her tilt her hips. Her body loosened to accept it and the cool glass slid into her ass with ease. It morphed inside her, changing shape to fill every crevice, with a notch at the end to keep it sturdy in place. Her eyes lolled back in her head, her arms falling to her sides even without the restraints. When he started to move again, she was nothing but a rag doll.

Was it possible she would reach another orgasm? By this point, her synapses were firing rapidly all over. There was no part of her body, inside or out, that wasn’t tingling. It felt so good it was almost painful, and she was helpless, utterly reliant on Qadaire to carry her through.

Another orgasm chased her at the end of that thought, bringing with it a renewed energy. Cass fisted her hands in the feathers of his lower back and tugged, helping him pound into her until he went rigid. She dropped her feet to the floor and rose. He followed her cue and leaned back on the smaller hump of the chair, letting her ride him. She rolled her hips in tune with her rise and fall, using her inner muscles to squeeze his cock. She reached behind her ass and stroked his balls.

“I’m so fucking empty, Qadaire. Fill me with your come,” she commanded. With the roles reversed, Qadaire turned to a puddle beneath her.

As her ass relaxed around the toy, it expanded, stretching her hole in preparation. She impaled herself on him over and over, grinding her clit against the dripping ridges of his vent. Their thighs smacked wetly, strings of clear liquid connecting their bodies. She watched his tortured expression shatter at the same moment he flooded her with heavy ropes of come.

Another orgasm taunted her from the depths. She kept riding him until she was too full to keep moving, and the orgasm clawed its way through her body, leaving them both panting.

She collapsed back on the chaise, but the venom wasn’t done with her yet. Her hips continued to move like they had a mind of their own.

Qadaire

Qadaire understood what was happening to his poor little dewdrop. While he had never performed a Turning and had been born a vampire, he’d learned much from the texts he’d read to prepare for this moment.

Cassandra writhed against him, her belly full of his seed and still wanting. She was over the worst of it, but she had another hole that needed attention. The feeling of emptiness shouldn’t be painful while he was inside her, but it would be incessant until the venom wore off. He hoped the glass toy was helping hold the pain of emptiness away, but he knew her asshole wouldn’t be satisfied without the flesh of its master.

“Q, I-I still—”

“I know, dewdrop.” He kissed the spot between her gorgeous, firm breasts, which had slid to the sides, nipples erect. He nuzzled her there for a moment, giving his sensitive cock a few more seconds of recovery.

He maneuvered her right leg over his waist to join her left and placed his upper right arm on her back to coax her onto her side. With one left hand returning to her breast, he used the other to stealthily slip his cock from her, watching with rapt hunger as a thick trickle of white gush from her cunt. He swiped his cock head through it while swiftly replacing his cock with his fingers. His seed was wet against his knuckles as he trapped it inside.

“Please,” she begged as he rubbed his cock head through the dribbles of spilled seed, coaxing them toward her asshole and shallowly pressing it inside. He rubbed himself against her puckered hole, watching it contract and flutter with need. He gathered lubricant seeping steadily from his bump and coated his cock, then gathered more and did the same to her asshole, dipping two fingers inside.

“Oh, fuck, please!”

Qadaire wanted to grin but remained vigilant. Nine rings, this woman was perfect. There were days he still thought himself unworthy of her love, but he let that worry make him a better man. She made him a better man.

“I love you, dewdrop.” He pressed into her ass slowly, their bodies so slippery that it slid right past the band of grasping muscle. He relished the low, deep groan that escaped her, a completely different sound than when he filled her cunt. “Cassandra. I will always take care of you.”

He knew she wasn’t capable of a thoughtful response. She had to do nothing in order for him to love her. All he wanted in return was her, and now, she was his. Forever. He sank into her suddenly and completely, to be sure she knew nothing was expected of her. He would fill her, break her, over and over, until so she knew the only thing that could break her in this eternal life was him, and he would always be there to hold the pieces back together.

Nine rings, her asshole was so tight. If his cock had felt strangled in her cunt, it was absolutely flattened by the walls of her ass! He was still so sensitive. It was too much. He had to take a deep breath and hold perfectly still to gather himself.

He nipped and sucked any sliver of skin available to him, slowly moving his fingers inside her, massaging the flooded walls of her perfect cunt. He waited until he stopped shivering to move inside her ass, and even then, he rolled his hips in more of a dance than a claiming.

He wasn’t surprised when she hooked her leg around his waist and started moving with him, driving him into her greedy little asshole with more force than he’d intended. He wasn’t surprised when his cock got greedy as well, inspiring him to grip her waist, jamming himself farther inside every time she reached his hilt.

“Qadaire!”

She shouted his name and he watched ravenously as her body shook with another orgasm. He knew what she liked, so he took the reins, fucking her more roughly with his fingers, causing come to squelch and splatter around them. He rammed his cock deep into her ass repeatedly, until it became difficult to continue as he felt the come in his balls siphoning through their connection. Her orgasm convulsed through her, the tightening of her walls around his sensitive cock simultaneously making him wince and need to come again.

He was barely able to hold back until she melted underneath him like her spine had been replaced with butter. Her body became pliable enough for him to give his hips a break, switching the effort to his arms, using her to fuck himself into her ass until he couldn’t stand it. He unloaded inside her abused hole, which hungrily accepted every drop he had to give.

It was a scientific phenomenon that she hadn’t yet burst with how much seed he planted inside her.

By the time his stream subsided, his chest heaving, he heard the soft thrumming of her heart slow. He dragged his heavy gaze to hers, which was fading with exhaustion.

Although it was difficult, he roused her enough to carry her to the bathroom before they fell asleep. When they did fall into bed together, he held her close with all his arms. He could’ve wept with the swell of gratitude and love that filled his black heart, that she would give herself to him like so. He would never let her regret it, as long as they lived.

For eternity.

∞∞∞