7. Rune

I pounce.He turns to run, but I’m faster. I slam his body against the nearest mirror, and he grunts as his face makes contact with the glass. Blood runs out of his nose and drips down his lips. He struggles and tries to fight me, but he has no idea just how strong I am. I’ve let him think this entire time it’s a fair fight, but it’s not.

Humans are so pathetically weak.

I inhale and smell the sweet scent of his need and want underneath all that fear. I know he wants this, whether he admits it to me or not. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to be taking what I need from him.

I roll my hips into the soft curve of his ass and groan into his ear. He drops his forehead onto the mirror in front of him and whimpers. I have his hands held behind his back, and his fingertips graze over the head of my dick as I roll into him again. I can feel myself dripping for him.

“You are going to taste so sweet,” I tell him, taking his ear between my teeth. He pulls away from me and starts to fight all over again. I roll my eyes and let him get it all out, fighting against my grip until he’s tired himself out. “Finished?” I ask him as he pants against the glass, fogging up the reflection of his face.

“What do you want from me?”

I push up against his body again and use my free hand to move around his waist and palm his dick. It grows and hardens under my grip as I move my own against his ass.

“I want this,” I tell him, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down over his hips. They fall to the floor, exposing his legs, covered in the same black-and-grey tattoos that cover the rest of his body. His thighs are thick with muscles, and if he wasn’t fighting me every step of the way, I would drop to my knees and bite my way across them.

“I am not a fucking bottom,” he growls.

I just smile and run my hand up the front of his thigh and over his tight grey boxer briefs, the only thing on him that isn’t black. In the reflection of his body, I can see the dark spot where his precum has collected. My hand cups his balls, and he squeezes his eyes shut and bares his teeth.

I move my hand further up, using my fingertips to run along the band from one hip to another. His hips move slightly before he catches himself, begging me to go lower, to go below the fabric and touch him skin on skin. His arousal begins to overpower the scent of his fear, and I know his blood is going to taste like the fucking nectar of the gods once I finally sink my teeth into him.

“Stop,” he whispers as I slip my fingers inside his boxers. I finally touch the head of him, where I play with the slit, collecting the ample amount of precum that has collected there. I smear it around his sensitive head, listening to the beautiful way he gasps under my touch. I give him a few firm strokes and relish in how his knees almost give out underneath him.

I release his hands from behind his back, and he plants them on the mirror to help hold himself up as I continue to pull and tug at him, making more precum collect at his tip. While he’s distracted, I use my free hand to slip his boxers down over his ass, just far enough to let me slip inside him.

“Rune,” he whispers. I love hearing my name on his lips. It makes my dick swell with the need to be inside him. “You can’t. Stop.”

My fingers dip into his crease, and he squeezes, freezing up with panic all over again. The sweet smell of his sex is gone, and in its place is fear. I groan and realize this is going to have to be done a different way.

“Fuck off, Rune!” he warns me. “I do not want your fucking dick inside of me!” Lies, lies, lies. I can smell them on him.

“I love the fight of topping a top,” I tell him as he begins to struggle all over again. “But let’s make you a bit more pliant, okay? We don’t have all fucking night.” I grip the back of his hair and force his eyes to meet mine in the mirror. His widen as mine turn jet-black, eclipsing the irises until there’s nothing left but darkness.

“Cash,” I say in a smooth voice, letting my energy seep into him. “I need you to stop fighting me now. It’s time.”

I can still see the hint of fear in his eyes, but his body complies with my words, relaxing and stopping the fight. I pull my skirt up, take the hem of it under my chin, and pull my own dick out. I smear my precum around the head and then spit down onto it, knowing it’s not near enough lube, but it’s all I have in the moment.

I spread him wide and push the tip of my dick against him, forcing my way past the tight ring. He is so hot and so fucking tight I have to bite my lip until I taste blood to make sure I don’t blow my load in one swift push. Putting some force behind it, I’m balls-deep within seconds, basking in the feel of his ass pulsing and gripping my shaft.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” I tell him as I begin to move.

“Fuck you,” he says, fighting past my mind control. My strong man, so brave and willful.

“I think you’ll find it’s the opposite,” I say as I pull myself almost all the way out of him before thrusting back in. His face smashes into the mirror, and he grunts. I dig my fingertips into his hips as I do it again and again, pulling out almost completely before ramming home.

Pleasure overtakes my body. Goose bumps break out across my flesh, and white heat floods down my spine and into my balls. He’s so fucking tight there’s no way I’m going to last much longer. I look up, and he’s watching me but not my face. His eyes are glued to the way my hips are moving against him in a wild rhythm. I tuck my skirt into my shirt to keep it out of the way.

“You like watching yourself get fucked, Johnny?” I ask him, picking up speed. His mouth drops open, and a low moan makes its way out of his chest. “You like the way we look together?” I grip and squeeze his throat as he swears at me again. What a little firecracker my Johnny is.

I grab the back of his scalp again, pulling his head to the side and exposing his neck as I feel the orgasm creep up. My toes try to curl, and electricity shoots through my stomach as I bite the tender flesh of his throat.

His blood pours over my tongue as my cum paints the inside of him. With each pulse of my orgasm, I suck on his neck, drawing more and more from him as I prolong the high. His blood is like nothing I’ve ever tasted, and I know what people mean now when they talk about their Fated mate.

It is spiritual, it is orgasmic, it is fucking sinful.

I pull away from his neck at the same time I slip my cock free from his ass. He falls to the floor, weak from the blood loss and exhausted from pleasure. He didn’t come, but he still enjoyed it, and I’ll make up for it next time. I look down at him, his ass leaking my cum, mixed with the red of his blood. His face is pale, and his eyes are dull.

“You just need some rest,” I tell him, squatting down to get a better look. “The feeding always takes it out of you. Rest up, buttercup.” I lean over and give him a quick kiss on the forehead before standing to get myself together.

I feel positively giddy with the feed. My head is light, and my body feels refreshed. This is a high I have never experienced with any other feed. I’m so happy I get to keep him.

When I look down to adjust my clothing and see my dick painted red from where I forced myself inside of him, butterflies flutter through my stomach. I have his blood on me now. He’s marked me just as I have marked him.

“I like seeing your blood on my cock, Johnny,” I tell him, meeting his eyes and seeing the defiance begin to creep back in. His anger is red-hot and almost uncontrollable, a challenge I happily rise to. “I think I’ll keep it there as a reminder of our first time together.”

I adjust myself in my boxers and pull my skirt back into place. I smile down at him. His cock is swollen and hard. The feeding has a sexual effect on the humans as well, and I know he’s feeling the need to touch himself. But he won’t while I’m still around. So I twirl and bow in his direction before leaving him alone. He’ll come find me if I don’t find him first.

“See you soon!” I sing.