22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

A s the haunting melody faded away, Jonathan and Dracula remained locked in their embrace, swaying gently in the center of the grand ballroom. The candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across their entwined forms. Dracula’s eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at Jonathan, their bodies pressed tightly together. The warmth that had stirred within him now burst into a full-blown inferno, consuming all rational thought. He wanted Jonathan, needed him with an intensity that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“You are exquisite,” Dracula murmured, his voice a low rumble. He leaned down, capturing Jonathan’s lips in a fierce kiss. Their tongues clashed, dancing together in a wild, passionate tango that left them both breathless.

Dracula’s hands roamed over Jonathan’s body, tracing the lines of his muscles and the curves of his hips. He could feel the young man’s heart racing, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He wanted to draw out this moment, to tease and tantalize, but his own desire was too great.

He lifted Jonathan off the ground with a swift, fluid movement, pinning him against the wall. Jonathan gasped, his eyes widening in surprise and excitement. He could feel Dracula’s hard length pressing against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body.

Dracula’s mouth moved to Jonathan’s neck, his fangs grazing the sensitive skin. He could hear the young man’s pulse quickening and could smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of his blood. But he held back, not wanting to hurt Jonathan or take more than he could give.

Instead, he focused on the sensation of their bodies moving together, the dance of their lovemaking. He ground his hips against Jonathan’s, their cocks straining against the confines of their pants. The fabric was rough and restrictive, a barrier that Dracula quickly grew impatient with.

With a growl of frustration, he set Jonathan down, his hands moving to the young man’s pants. He tore at the fabric, ripping it away with inhuman strength. Jonathan’s cock sprang free, hard and ready, and Dracula couldn’t resist the urge to take it in his mouth.

Jonathan cried out, his fingers tangling in Dracula’s inky black locks as the Count’s lips wrapped around his shaft. Dracula’s tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, his mouth working in a steady, rhythmic motion that had Jonathan writhing in pleasure.

Dracula’s mouth worked expertly, drawing out a gasp from deep within Jonathan. The Count’s tongue teased the sensitive tip, coaxing a bead of pre-cum from Jonathan’s body. Dracula pulled back slightly, opening his mouth to allow the slick saliva and Jonathan’s precum to drip onto his fingers. He then reached around, using the slick fluid to gently coat Jonathan’s hole before slipping his finger inside. Jonathan’s breath hitched as Dracula’s finger entered him, the sudden intrusion sending a shockwave of pleasure through his body. He clung to Dracula’s shoulders, his nails digging into the fabric of the Count’s shirt, as he was slowly and expertly prepared. Dracula’s mouth never left Jonathan’s cock, his tongue and lips working in tandem with his finger, drawing out moans that echoed through the empty ballroom.

Dracula looked up at Jonathan, his dark eyes filled with lust and hunger. He added another finger, stretching and scissoring, his movements deliberate and tantalizingly slow. Jonathan’s hips bucked, seeking more friction, more contact, but Dracula held him firmly, controlling the pace, building the tension.

“Please,” Jonathan begged, his voice a ragged whisper. “Please, I need... I need more.”

Dracula smiled, a slow, sensual curve of his lips that promised untold pleasures. He withdrew his fingers, leaving Jonathan feeling empty and desperate. But not for long.

He wanted to feel Jonathan, to be inside him, to claim him completely. He stood up, his own pants disappearing in a flash of movement. He lifted Jonathan again, this time wrapping the young man’s legs around his waist, and with a single, powerful thrust, he entered Jonathan, their bodies joining together in a dance as old as time itself. Jonathan gasped, his nails digging into Dracula’s shoulders as he adjusted to the sensation of being filled so completely.

Dracula began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady, sensual rhythm. He pinned Jonathan to the wall, his hands gripping the young man’s thighs, his eyes locked onto Jonathan’s face. He wanted to see every expression, every gasp, every moan of pleasure.

Jonathan met each thrust with a roll of his hips, their bodies moving in perfect sync. The dance of their lovemaking was wild and primal, a raw, unbridled expression of their desire. Dracula could feel the pleasure building within him, the tension coiling in his body like a tightly wound spring.

He leaned down, capturing Jonathan’s lips in another fierce kiss. Their tongues moved together, mirroring the dance of their bodies. Dracula could taste Jonathan’s blood on his lips, a sweet, coppery tang that only served to heighten his desire.

He broke away from the kiss, his mouth moving to Jonathan’s ear. “You feel incredible,” he growled, his voice low and guttural. “You feel so tight and so warm. I want to stay inside you forever.”

Jonathan moaned, his head falling back against the wall. “Yes,” he gasped. “Yes, please. I want you, Dracula. I want all of you.”

Dracula’s thrusts grew wilder, more urgent. He could feel his orgasm approaching, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity. He wanted to come, wanted to fill Jonathan with his essence, to mark him as his own.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside Jonathan, his body shuddering with the force of his release. Jonathan cried out, his own orgasm crashing over him like a wave. His body convulsed, his cock pulsing as he spilled himself between them.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies joined together, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Then, slowly, Dracula lowered Jonathan to the ground, their bodies separating with a soft, wet sound.

Jonathan leaned against the wall, his legs trembling, his body slick with sweat. Dracula stood before him, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of satisfaction and concern. He reached out, gently cupping Jonathan’s face in his hand.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice soft with tenderness.

Jonathan nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yes,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “That was... incredible.”

Dracula smiled back, his thumb brushing gently against Jonathan’s cheek. “Yes, it was,” he agreed.

“But our dance is far from over.”

Dracula gathered the young solicitor, carrying him to the plush chaise and laying Jonathan on the soft fabric. Dracula leaned in, licking and teasing his nipples before giving in and taking a bite, drawing blood and lapping the sweet nectar.

“Yes! Take me!” Jonathan said, his chest heaving with desire as he presented his neck.

“No. I will not make you into a monster!” Dracula growled before entering the solicitor again.

Jonathan wanted to speak, but once he was filled again, no words would come from his lips other than cries of pure pleasure. Dracula’s eyes bore into Jonathan’s, the intensity of his gaze pinning the young man as securely as his body. He moved with a renewed vigor, his hips driving into Jonathan’s with a primal, relentless rhythm. The chaise creaked beneath them, threatening to succumb to the force of their passion. Jonathan’s hands clutched at Dracula’s back, feeling the powerful muscles shift and flex under his touch. Their bodies were slick with sweat, sliding against each other in a heated, desperate dance.

Dracula’s mouth moved from Jonathan’s nipples, trailing kisses and gentle bites up his chest and his neck until he claimed his lips again. This time, the kiss was not fierce but deep and slow, filled with a longing that transcended mere physical desire. Jonathan responded in kind, pouring his soul into the kiss, his heart pounding against Dracula’s.

The Count’s hand slipped between their bodies, wrapping around Jonathan’s cock. He stroked in time with his thrusts, his touch firm and sure. Jonathan tore his mouth away from Dracula’s, a keening cry escaping his lips as the pleasure became almost too much to bear.

“That’s it, my love,” Dracula murmured, his voice a low rumble. “Let go for me. Let me see you come undone.”

Jonathan’s body shuddered, his hips bucking wildly as Dracula’s words pushed him over the edge. His cock pulsed in Dracula’s hand, his release hot and sudden, painting his stomach and chest. The sight of Jonathan lost in ecstasy sent Dracula spiraling, his own orgasm ripping through him with a ferocity that left him gasping. He thrust deep into Jonathan one last time, filling him completely, before collapsing on top of him, their bodies a tangle of limbs and heaving breaths.

They lay there for a long moment, the only sound in the grand ballroom their ragged breathing and the distant ticking of a clock. Dracula’s face was buried in Jonathan’s neck, his lips brushing softly against the pulse point that throbbed with life. He could feel Jonathan’s heartbeat slowing, his body relaxing into the afterglow of their passion.

With a gentle kiss on Jonathan’s neck, Dracula lifted himself up, his dark eyes gazing down at the young man. Jonathan’s eyes were closed as he drifted to sleep.