33. Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

A ndor hefted Van Helsing’s lifeless body over his shoulder, blood dripping onto the earthen floor. He turned to Jonathan and Dracula, his eyes glinting in the dim lamplight.

“The last of the hunters are taken care of,” he said, his voice low and tinged with satisfaction. “But word will spread quickly. The fall of Castle Dracula... some will see it as a sign of weakness.”

Dracula’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing at the implications.

Andor continued, “I’m leaving Transylvania. Too many memories, too many ghosts.” He paused, glancing between them. “You’d be wise to do the same.”

Without waiting for a response, Andor ascended the ladder, Van Helsing’s body swaying grotesquely with each step. At the top, he paused, silhouetted against the fading daylight.

“Farewell, father,” he said softly. Then he was gone, leaving only the echo of his footsteps and the metallic scent of blood behind.

Dracula slumped to the floor, his body weary from the brutal fight. Blood stained his tattered clothes, and his chest heaved with each labored breath. His eyes, usually sharp and alert, were heavy-lidded with exhaustion.

Jonathan crawled towards him, wincing with each movement. His limbs trembled, muscles protesting after the violent encounter. A thin trail of blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, and bruises were already blooming across his pale skin.

As Jonathan drew near, Dracula’s eyes widened in disbelief. He blinked rapidly as if trying to dispel an illusion. “Jonathan?” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “How... why are you here?”

Jonathan reached out, his fingers brushing Dracula’s cheek. “I heard you,” he murmured. “Your voice, calling to me. I couldn’t ignore it any longer.”

Confusion flickered across Dracula’s face. He hadn’t consciously called out, yet some part of him must have been reaching for Jonathan all this time.

“I don’t care anymore,” Jonathan continued, his voice growing stronger. “If I’m just a replacement, a shadow of someone you once loved - it doesn’t matter. I know what I want now.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Dracula’s skin. “I want freedom. And I want you.”

Dracula’s hand trembled as he cupped Jonathan’s face, drinking in the sight of him. For a moment, neither spoke, their reunion hanging in the air between them.

Dracula’s eyes softened as he gazed at Jonathan, longing and regret etched in their depths. “You must understand, Jonathan. You’re more than a replacement. I was blind, lost in grief for so long. I tried to recreate what I had, but it only drove others to madness. I would have done the same to you if...”

His voice trailed off. Jonathan shuffled closer, ignoring the pain, his hand reaching out to cup Dracula’s cheek. “I don’t care,” he whispered fiercely. “Let us both be mad together, then.”

A rich, warm laugh escaped Dracula’s lips. His hand covered Jonathan’s, fingers intertwining. “Oh, my dear solicitor. I had my time with my love, and that time has ended. I can no longer remain in this stagnant world, slowly withering away. I want to live – truly live – and I want to do so with you by my side. But there may always be a part of me that sees a bit of him in you...”

Jonathan silenced him with a finger to his lips. “There’s a saying, you know. If you love something, let it go. If it returns, it’s yours.” His eyes sparkled as he leaned in close. “I’m yours, Dracula. Now and always.”

Their lips met in a kiss that spoke of promises, new beginnings, and a love that had weathered storms and emerged stronger.

“Make love to me,” Jonathan whispered, his voice thick with desire. “Now, Dracula. I need to feel you inside me.”

Dracula, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of lust and concern, trailed his fingertips along Jonathan’s hand, “My greedy boy,” he murmured, his voice a low, sensual growl, “we are both injured and exhausted. Perhaps we should rest.”

“No,” Jonathan insisted, his voice growing in intensity. “I need you. I need to feel your body against mine. Please, it’s been so long.”

Dracula surrendered. His fingers deftly unfastened the remaining buttons on Jonathan’s shirt, reveling in the sight of the young man’s muscular chest, his nipples already pebbled with anticipation. Leaning in, he captured Jonathan’s mouth in a scorching kiss, his tongue seeking and finding its mate.

As they kissed, Dracula’s hands roamed over Jonathan’s lithe body, tracing the contours of his muscles, the curve of his hips, and the taut globes of his buttocks. He squeezed gently, eliciting a gasp from Jonathan, who arched his back in silent entreaty.

“I want you to fuck me senseless,” Jonathan said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s your punishment for still seeing Béla in me. You have to do whatever I want.”

Dracula froze, his hands stilling on Jonathan’s body as if uncertain how to respond. Then, a slow smile curved his lips, and he laughed, the sound rich and full of promise. “Solicitor, I will gladly oblige your wishes, whatever they may be. Be as demanding of me as you desire. Such a lovely punishment.” He teased.

With deliberate slowness, Dracula pushed Jonathan onto the floor, his eyes never leaving the young man’s face. Jonathan’s heart hammered in his chest, anticipation and trepidation warring within him.

“Béla,” Jonathan suddenly gasped, his voice tinged with panic. “My dog. I need to check on him.”

Dracula’s fingers paused while unfastening Jonathan’s pants. He cocked his head to the side, listening. “I can hear his strong heartbeat. He’s fine. But you, child, should be more concerned for yourself.”

And with that, Dracula resumed his task, his hands moving with sure, practiced dexterity. Jonathan surrendered to the sensations, his mind whirling with a kaleidoscope of emotions.

Dracula pulls off Jonathan’s pants to his knees, and lifts his legs high. His tongue quickly found Jonathan’s hole. Jonathan moaned hotly. “If something happens to Béla, I won’t forgive you,” he whispered, his tone both seductive and warning.

“I will turn him,” he promised. “Once I’ve satisfied my cravings for you,”

“You better...”

“Be more concerned for yourself, boy.”

Dracula’s tongue delved into Jonathan’s most intimate place, the wet muscle probing and circling until Jonathan’s hole fluttered and clenched around it. Jonathan gasped, his back arching off the cold, filthy floor, hands gripping the ground. “Dracula!” he cried out, his voice raw with need.

“Call me Vlad.”

“Vlad...”

With a final, obscene slurp, Dracula pulled back. His fangs glinted in the dim light as he licked his lips. “So responsive,” he purred, his voice a dark rumble that Jonathan felt in his bones. “I need to taste you.”

Jonathan whimpered as he felt the sharp point of Dracula’s fang press against his quivering rim. The brief sting of pain was quickly replaced by a warm, slick sensation as Dracula’s saliva mingled with his own fluids. Jonathan moaned, his hips rocking back instinctively.

“That’s it, my love,” Dracula murmured, his fingers teasing Jonathan’s dripping entrance. “Open for me.”

One long, dexterous finger breached Jonathan’s loosened hole, sliding deep and curling against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Jonathan keened, his eyes rolling back in bliss. Dracula set a steady rhythm, pumping his finger in and out, adding a second, then a third.

Jonathan’s passage clenched greedily around Dracula’s invading digits, drawing them deeper. He was beyond thought, beyond words, his entire being focused on the fire building low in his belly. Dracula’s touch was everywhere, his lips, teeth, and tongue mapping every inch of Jonathan’s trembling body.

“Soon,” Dracula promised, his breath hot against Jonathan’s ear. “Soon I will claim you, make you mine. Forever.”

“Yes,” Jonathan choked. “Please, Dracula, I need—“

He didn’t know when his pants and shoes hit the wall across the room, but now his legs were wide open, his cock painfully erect and leaking, and his shirt open, exposing him to the man above him.

Dracula’s fangs sank into Jonathan’s neck, piercing skin and muscle. Pleasure exploded through Jonathan’s body, white-hot and all-consuming. He screamed, his voice lost in the roar of his own heartbeat as Dracula drank deep.

In that moment, Jonathan surrendered himself completely. His body, his soul, his very essence belonged to Dracula. The world fell away, narrowing to the two of them—immortal and mortal, joined as one.

Dracula’s cock pressed against Jonathan’s slick, prepared entrance. With a single, smooth thrust, he sheathed himself fully, penetrating Jonathan’s completely. Jonathan’s back bowed as Dracula penetrated him fully, the vampyre’s thick cock stretching him impossibly wide. A moan tore from Jonathan’s throat, raw and primal, as he surrendered himself completely to Dracula’s claiming.

“Yes,” Jonathan gasped, his fingers digging into Dracula’s shoulders, nails scoring the immortal flesh. “Take me, Vlad. Make me yours.”

Dracula obliged, setting a brutal pace that left Jonathan breathless and boneless beneath him. The wet slap of skin against skin echoed obscenely in the dank basement, mingling with Jonathan’s choked cries of pleasure.

Dracula’s fangs found Jonathan’s neck again, piercing the tender flesh. Jonathan shuddered, his cock pulsing between their sweat-slicked bodies as Dracula drank deep.

Jonathan’s climax crashed over him like a tidal wave, his body convulsing as he spilled between their writhing bodies. Dracula followed moments later, his fangs still buried in Jonathan’s neck as he emptied himself deep inside the young man’s spasming hole.

He continued to drink, drink until his solicitor had passed out from the blood loss. He had to move fast, before the weakened heart ceased to beat.

“I will take care of you, no matter what you become,” Dracula murmured his promise before biting into his own wrist and allowing the blood to drip in steady, then heavy drips into Jonathan’s slack mouth.

The Next Night

Jonathan’s eyes fluttered open, his vision swimming into focus. The dank basement came into sharp relief, the scent of mold and decay mingling with the metallic tang of blood. His body ached, but the pain was dulled by the warmth of Dracula’s arms around him. He shifted slightly, feeling the rough earthen floor beneath them and the vampyre’s cool skin against his own.

He turned his head to see Dracula lying beside him, his dark eyes watching Jonathan intently. There was a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability that Jonathan had never seen before.

“How do you feel?” Dracula asked, his voice gentle.

Jonathan took a moment to assess his body. He felt different, stronger. His senses were heightened, and he could hear the faint rustling of leaves outside and the distant hoot of an owl. He could feel the hum of life within the very walls of this hut. He could hear his pup’s heart in a way he’d never heard a heartbeat before, as if he could track the very blood in his veins.

“I feel... alive,” Jonathan said, a smile tugging at his lips. “But different. Changed.”

Dracula returned the smile, his fingers brushing a lock of hair from Jonathan’s forehead. “You are changed, my love. You are now like me. Immortal. And you’re...not mad...”

Jonathan’s eyes widened, but there was no fear, only wonder. “Immortal,” he repeated, tasting the word on his tongue. The word settled over him like a heavy cloak. Images of Lucy and his colleagues flashed before him. They would continue growing older, their lives unfolding in the blink of an eye while he remained unchanged.

“Yes,” Dracula said. “And together, we shall explore this world anew. There is so much I want to show you, to experience with you.”

Jonathan’s smile widened, “I want that too,” he said softly, “But there’s something I need to do first,” he added, his voice filled with newfound determination.

Dracula quirked an eyebrow. “And what might that be?”

“Béla,” Jonathan said. “I want to turn him if it’s possible. I want him to be with us, always.”

Dracula chuckled, a rich sound that filled the room. “I knew you would want to be the one to do it. But remember, he will be bound to you as you are to me.”

Jonathan nodded, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I understand.”

Dracula smiled indulgently. “Very well. Let’s go find your faithful hound.”

Jonathan reached for his clothes in the darkness, his newly heightened senses guiding his hands. As he slipped on his shirt, he marveled at the smoothness of his skin. All traces of wounds vanished. A smile played on his lips, hope for the future blooming in his chest.

“And when we’re done here, where will we go?” he asked, buttoning his trousers.

Dracula’s eyes glinted in the dim light. “Perhaps London? You could show me what it means to be a modern Victorian man .“ he teased.

Jonathan laughed, the sound rich and carefree. “I don’t think I’m quite ready for London. How about Greece, then Egypt? I’ve always wanted to see the world.”

“An excellent suggestion,” Dracula nodded approvingly. “It will serve us well, especially with hunters likely to seek us out.”

Jonathan’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “The way I feel right now, if they find us, they’ll regret doing so.”

Dracula pulled him close, his voice low and fervent. “I vow to protect you, always.”

“And when I’m strong enough,” Jonathan whispered, “I’ll protect you too.”

Their lips met in a tender kiss, sealing their promise of eternity together.