9. What if I Can’t?

With his hands gripping Foxx's plump ass, Harlow slammed his cock hard in and out of the man's already cum-filled hole. The sound of their skin slapping together, even the slick noise of the lube and cum mixing together, was drowned out by the vampire's unintelligible cries, and the screams coming from the TV.

Harlow groaned in time with each scream of terror that the now months dead man let out. His little sadist's hole clenched with each and every cry, the vampire taking pleasure in the man's pain.

With over twenty-four hours of footage, and knowing the ‘good' stuff was near the middle, he hadn't started the security recording at the beginning. He wasn't sure how long it had been since they started, or how far into the footage they were, because he had lost track of how many times he'd come inside the vampire. But judging by how bad his thirst was dogging him, the body aches, and the amount of cum leaking from Foxx's ass, it had been hours.

As for what was happening on the screen besides torture, he didn't know. Harlow found he couldn't look at the screen, and had in fact tuned out his own voice since the beginning.

Because…he sounded off. His own voice on the security footage sounded foreign to him. There was anger, but…the sharp edge to it…was wrong.

It was as if he could hear what he couldn't then… Desperation. The Harlow on the recording sounded desperate.

He shoved the thought from his head and forced himself to tune it out again. Focusing solely on the tight hole around his cock, and the sweet moans coming from Foxx's lips as he clawed at the bedding and moved into each thrust.

"HARL—" Foxx tried to call for him, but the name cut off as the vampire screamed in pleasure, spasming once again as he came.

Harlow pumped his hips, letting out a low groan, just riding through Foxx's orgasm. When the man finished, lying there panting and unmoving, he slowed to a stop, letting the vampire catch his breath for a moment. But soon enough, he was fucking in and out of Foxx again, just as hard as he had been.

* * *

Foxx's heartwas beating so fast that he was pretty sure it may just decide to give the fuck up. Meanwhile, he was breathing like he'd smoked every day of his seven hundred plus years.

Foxx whimpered pathetically as Harlow's hard cock continued to pound into his sore, dripping hole. Despite how much he'd come already, he was hard again, so he continued to lay there and let Harlow use his ass like fucking was all it was made for.

The wetness under him had only grown as more time passed, but still Foxx didn't move. He remained on his stomach, eyes locked on the TV.

A shiver of pleasure ran through him, as even in his exhausted daze, he'd still been able to catch the exact moment when the current man being tortured on the screen died. Another shudder came when Harlow growled angrily in the video.

Harlow punched the dead priest. "Fucking weakling!"

The human was so angry. Foxx had seemed Harlow angry before, but this seemed different somehow. The man on this video seemed a step above. It was like, while normal Harlow was more self-restricted in his anger, the Harlow in the video had nothing holding him back.

"I think his heart gave out." Tony tsked. "Perhaps I shouldn't have told you that major permanent injuries were allowed."

Ah…Tony had removed the leash that usually kept Harlow from doing more damage… Did that explain the difference?

Harlow spun. His expression was demonic as the human screamed, "We are wasting time on these fuckers!"

"It's been a day, Harlow. We are doing all that we can. There is still time. We will find Foxx, and whoever else they took."

"It's a day too long!" the man bellowed as he stood there, chest heaving up and down, his blood covered hands clenched.

The video was so clear that Foxx would have sworn he'd seen a brief look of panic in the human's eyes. But that couldn't be right. Harlow wouldn't panic about him…would he?

What…other dialog had he missed? He hadn't paid much attention to it at the start. But now his body felt so overwhelmed, over stimulated, that all he could make sense of was what he was seeing and hearing from the TV.

Foxx, honestly, felt like he was having an out of body experience. Like, he was still there, he still felt Harlow's dick moving inside him, the man's thighs slapping into his sore ass…but the whimpers he was making didn't feel like they were coming from him. Like he was there but not.

"Get me a new one."

"You should take a break. Maybe sleep a little or eat something."

"Get. Me. A. New. One,"Harlow ground out.

Tony sighed. "So much paperwork… What a headache."

Harlow, looking like he was about to scream again, stopped and turned around, back to the camera. For a moment, the man just stood there staring at the dead body. But then it was like a cord had snapped. Harlow was standing there unmoving one moment, and in the next he was sending the chair tumbling back with his foot. The wood shattered on impact, the dead priest flopping to the ground.

And he didn't stop there. What followed was uncontrolled, skin tingling violence as Harlow lost his shit. Striking out at the dead man again and again, each kick spreading more blood.

Foxx's cock jerked hard, and an inaudible scream was wrenched from his body as he came once again, this time at the sight of Harlow's unrestrained violence.

The current Harlow growled loudly behind him. Slamming hard one last time, Foxx felt the man's dick spasm, new heat flooding his insides as Harlow came again. Foxx's nose wrinkled when the human's full weight settled on top of him, the man's cock still inside him.

Panting, he stared at the blood-coated floor, and the mangled body on the screen… Harlow's back was still to the camera, but his shoulders now rose and fell with how heavy he was breathing. Staring at those wide shoulders, he struggled to keep his eyes open. And then exhaustion won, the world going black…

Foxx jerked back awake, his eyes snapping open while his head spun a bit as he laid there. Harlow was still on top of him, and inside him, but…he was snoring. The fucker had fallen asleep…

His gaze darted up to the TV at a loud howl of pain. And at the sight of Harlow standing over a priest with a bloody hammer in his hand, his cock attempted to perk back up… It failed, but an attempt had been made.

"Oh, good. I have your fucking attention now," Harlow growled. "You know me, don't you?"

Foxx blinked, and found himself giggling tiredly at Harlow's words. "So sorry to not pay attention," he said softly. Foxx grimaced at how raspy his voice was. His throat was feeling a bit sore…as was the rest of him.

"I don't know anything!" the priest denied.

Foxx licked his lips, sort of wishing he could get hard as Harlow bitch-slapped the man hard enough to send him and the chair to the floor. Even more so when the human ground his foot into the man's head.

"You do know me. You even know what you took from me. And if you don't, then that was a serious mistake on your part." The priest started to scream. "You took Foxx from me. He's mine. You know, he'd actually enjoy this, if he were here."

Foxx's eyes widened. Mine? Had…Harlow just called him his? Foxx stared at the back of Harlow's head, wishing he could see his expression.

"Foxx would enjoy it so much, he'd probably be flushed and trying to help. Letting out little excited gasps with each painful cry you took."

Foxx would have found it funny how right the statement was, but his mind was stuck on what Harlow had said before. It felt like he shouldn't have been listening. That these words hadn't been ones he'd been meant to hear.

There was a gagging noise from someone out of sight, and then that person spoke, making him realize Tony was still there.

"Yeah, I don't fucking need to be here for this."

Harlow just laughed at that as a door slammed shut. Never looking back, his foot still in place, Harlow leaned down. When he spoke next, whatever humor that had brought on the laugh before was gone, replaced by the rage that had no doubt pushed Harlow to beat a dead body until blood coated the floor. "You took my ball of sadistic sunshine. Give. It. Back."

Foxx's breath caught in his throat. He stared silently at the screen, wanting to unhear what he just heard. He had already felt like he'd heard something he shouldn't. Now it was as if he'd heard words that should have never gone further than the moment they were said in.

Harlow…wouldn't have wanted him to hear this… Foxx was never meant to hear any of this. He bet the man didn't even remember saying any of it. And if he didn't…then what exactly did that mean for them? What did he do now that he had heard it…?

Nothing—he'd do nothing. He took a calming breath, eyes averting from the TV. It meant nothing. "Let it go, Foxx…" he croaked hoarsely. "Just pretend you never heard, so things can remain how they should."

Everything had to stay as it was, because that was the only way he could remain happy…

Foxx let his eyes drop closed, tuning out the TV. It would be fine as long as he forgot.

His eyes were barely closed a few seconds before they slowly opened again as a single thought danced in his mind: what if I can't?