†

I had just finished showering, removing all the blood and dust, and really washing away the events of the day, when footsteps resonated inside the small cabin we constructed for the bathroom to be. “There you are,” Astarion’s sultry voice emerged from behind me. After the battle we had fought and the emotions I had shared with him, I wasn't so sure I would be able to handle him. Or whatever he wanted with me.

“You were looking for me?” I asked, my hands still struggling with the buttons of my long robe I would wear for sleeping. Since they decided to render my life complicated, I gripped them tighter and almost ripped the whole cloth open before thin and cold fingers interrupted the motion. I lifted my eyes to him and my heart skipped a beat watching him so closely. I knew my cheeks were red and I couldn’t cover myself.

His soft smile revealed his fangs. “May I?” he proposed and looked down while he gently reached for the buttons, the stroke of his knuckles over my breasts creating fire all over my body. He was delicate, meticulous, like he was manipulating the most fragile element. And my very soul reacted to his attention. He could sense it and enjoyed seeing me squirm. When he was done - and he took a damn long time on purpose - he sat over the rim of the table right in front of me and rested his hands on each side. “Can we talk?” He looked devolved.

I simply shrugged my shoulders, still trying to silently extinguish the brazier that had become my skin. “What’s on your mind?”

“I – wanted to thank you. For persuading me not to go through the ritual. It was the right choice, although I didn’t see it at the time.” His face was unreadable, even if he bore an expression much more approachable than his usual scowl over everything. He seemed sincere.

“It’s nothing,” I answered and turned around, as I couldn’t stay one more second with him near me.

“It’s not… nothing.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled on it firmly enough I knew I had no other choice. His fingers wriggled their way inside my palm and stroked where the skin was very thin and sensitive. “You were right. About what I wanted for me. And I needed you to remind me.”

I wished his words would have ended just a bit sooner. “You’re welcome, then.”

“I didn’t forget, you know?”

He replied so fast, I knew he had waited and wondered whether it was wise to admit it or not. If too many years had passed, if the moment had vanished. My blood was burning, my cheeks had adopted a yet to be discovered shade of red, and my legs were wobbly standing right between his, I realized. My eyes drifted from one place to another, couldn’t rest over him, couldn’t hold his powerful gaze. “Forget what?”

“Come on, darling, don’t play silly,” he chuckled and I sensed my panties watering at the mere sound. “We are connected, remember?” he added, tapping his temple with his index finger before sliding it to his chin. “I had to see what that pretty little head of yours was thinking, watching me so eagerly all the time.”

“Don’t you dare go into my head,” I frowned.

“Oh, because you haven’t? Don’t think I couldn’t feel you penetrate my walls,” and his smile widened at his allusion. I didn’t think it was possible but my temperature’s body augmented yet again. I lifted my hands and tried withdrawing them from his grasp, reaching for his shoulders to punch. “No need to be violent, my sweet!” he laughed again.

“Don’t call me that, we are not…” I started.

“What? Together? Lovers? Isn’t that what you wish for?” he goaded, talked slowly for his words reached their destination, his fangs showing but with an extremely serious expression on his face. I was torn apart, my heart was about to burst out of my chest and my skin was burning from inside out, the only dress covering my body yet enough to be uncomfortable over my scorching flesh. “I’ve seen your desire. All these years ago too, without that worm inside our head. I saw it in your eyes, you wanted me to be yours, and wanted yourself to be mine. Didn’t you?”

This was another form of torture. He was playing with me, playing with my feelings and my emotions and I couldn’t handle a tenth of what he was doing right now. I needed to leave and be far from here, his scent suffocating, his contact perturbing my hormones, his stare undressing me. “Stop…”

“Be honest with me, love. Be honest with yourself. Tell me. Did you want me?” he insisted and this was too much, he was too much.

“Don’t do this to me…”

“Because I want you,” he faltered, his hand on the small of my back, pulling me even closer to him. His lips caressed the skin under my ear and he murmured against it. “For more than two hundred years, I’ve been wanting you. And now that I have you back, I am not letting you go.”

It sounded like a dream. The same dream I was having before I realized he was trying to feed on me, but everything was too real, and too palpable, he was nudging, and kissing my neck and whispering dirty terms inside my ears. All I had ever wanted, he had wanted them too. "Why didn't you say anything?" I asked, among the relief, another feeling insinuated.

His eyes searched for mine when I was purposefully avoiding him. These unsaid emotions were hard to acknowledge after so many years repressing them. And his gaze had always been the hardest to handle. "I was a coward..." His fingers clenched over the fabric of my gown, fidgeting uncontrollably. "Everything was perfect. You by my side, our family promising us the most luxurious future we could have hoped. I was afraid it would change our complicity, our chemistry. And when I understood it would only transform for the better, it was too late."

I hung on his lips for all the words I had hoped to hear for decades and didn't want him to stop. He reached for my skin. “I should have made you stay that night,” he licked my neck where he had kissed. “This is why I had been out so late. I realized what you meant for me. How wrong I was." His voice was just a whisper cooling my flesh. "I’m sure I would not have needed much for you to accept, am I wrong, darling?”

I only answered with a sigh, as my brain couldn’t think of any words and my mouth was too occupied restraining itself from kissing his salacious lips. His voice was suave and coated with honey and I stuck to them like the oxygen I needed to breathe and the water I needed to drink to survive. “Did I render you speechless?” he smiled over my still burning skin. His teeth played with my earlobe, his laugh rumbled like thunder in the night sky and my legs couldn’t support my body anymore. He giggled at the sight of me on my knees. “As much as I would enjoy myself in this position, let’s not make a mess out of you just yet.”

Never would have I imagined him behind so voluptuous and debauched. He had always known about his good looks, and relished using them for personal purposes, but as he had stayed very friendly with me, I had never seen this side of him. And when I imagined him being… rather explicit with me, I thought he would be gentler and more tender. The glint of spiciness shimmered in the corner of his eyes, and his dropping lids couldn't lie about his eagerness, especially when his focus revolved around my mouth. He was so determined, and ravenous... And I liked being the center of his desire. I liked feeling his undisciplined lust against my skin. And mostly, I loved his appetence for dominance.

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He grabbed me under the arms and lifted me as if I weighed nothing, made me sit onto the table, opened my thighs and paused his waist between them. My back was stiff and I stood straight and tall. His fingers grazed my spine and triggered shivers all over my body, which nonetheless didn’t cool my skin. His other hand grabbed my chin and forced my gaze to fall upon him. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

Was he truly asking me? I never had been the one to say, always the one to act, to obey. Without even knowing, I entered his mind and travelled around his most devious thoughts. All of them were about me. All of them evolved around the places he could sink his teeth into, where he could kiss, all the pleasure he wanted me to feel. But one of them echoed deafeningly. I could eat her up upon this table.

“Well, aren’t you snooping around, now? Found something you like?” he purred and I was nothing more than a ball of pure thirst, desire and fearless craving. My mouth fell hard upon his and I sensed his smile, his canines poking my blood-filled lips and he groaned slowly, loudly, as I imprisoned his own lip between my teeth. Our kisses were harsh, thirsty, feverish, as all these years of waiting, of fantasizing had created such an irritable appetite. He was all I ever wished for, and he couldn’t even try to be disappointing. His hands travelled all over my body, and I couldn’t remember where I started and where he ended, as we had become one, swallowing each other’s moans, growls, thrusts. Astarion tugged on my hair and exposed my wounded neck from his previous bite. His eyes glimmered with passion, and his pants rubbed against my core, made me gasp so loudly, he lifted his brows, inquisitive. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, breathless.

I shook my head with frantic fervor, he understood precisely what I thought. “Do you want me to hurt you, my love?” Yet I couldn’t bring myself to admit it, to express the words of everything I’d like him to do with me, starting with what he had thought of moments ago.

His smile was feral and my downfall. Everything about him was so intoxicating, I would have done abhorrent things for him, accepted the most unpleasant of fates. Becoming a vampire had intensified what he was so good at. His looks, his charisma, his persuasion. I was inflamed by this man and I was forgetting myself. “I want to taste you,” he said between kisses over my delicate flesh, licked the two punctures he had inflicted and hummed at the reminiscing. I closed my eyes and waited, as he not so gently pushed over my chest so I would lay on the table, my dress barely covering my legs and my entrance anymore, his fingers still fisted around my hair and his breath warming my blood a little more. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his mouth still parted in a large smile as I could hear in his tone, his amusement, the enjoyment doing all of this.

And I was afraid he wouldn’t be, enjoying as much as I was, after everything he had to endure for the sake of his tormenter Cazador. All the people he had wrongfully touched and teased and caressed. People he didn’t like, and felt guilty manipulating this way. “Dearest…” his voice brought me back to the present and I felt the wave of his own excitement, his urgent arousal regarding my person, when his mind had found a way to my own, and he showed me what he saw, a beautiful woman he had always known and always respected highly, there was no room for hesitation anymore. He wanted this. “Do you trust me?” he repeated. And I nodded. Closed my eyes and nodded, captured the strap of my dress and glided it across my shoulder to bare my neck even more, so he could taste, he could savour and devour all that he wished.

Only he didn’t reach my neck. He laughed, proud of his little scheme, and uncovered my robe up until my stomach, kneeled and widened my legs for him to taste. One lick and I gasped, another one and my eyes were inside my skull, my back arching through the rapture. He used his lips, tongue and fingers and I was petrified by the way he was feasting on me, his moans vibrating over my core and his filthy words bringing me closer to my orgasm. “I knew you would be exquisite,” he admitted, rhythmed by the strokes of his tongue against my clit, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore. Everything about him was participating to my pleasure bursting from every pore, astonished in front of his sex appeal, I sensed the fire ascending, leaching the walls, going up and up and up, until Astarion decided to stop.

“What are you doing?” I drawled while watching him stand up, his pants and shirt already gone, his beautiful and perfect body on display for me to relish on. He squeezed my thighs and caressed them, reaching for my waist that he firmly grabbed and approached to the end of the table.

“Oh, you’re not coming just yet, precious,” he explained, no longer laughing. His eyes were decided, his stare tenacious. “I want us to come together.”

He drove himself to my entrance and teased, the noises of slicking so vulgar and obscene, I covered my face with my hands. But Astarion swore, and penetrated me in one fast motion, my moan getting stuck inside my throat. He stayed deep inside, letting myself adjust to his girth, to his length, to the sight and the feeling of him inside me, finally inside me. “Astarion…” I whispered and he started moving, finding back my voice enough of an invitation for him to proceed.

“Yes,” he answered, but I wasn’t so sure he was responding. His eyes were closed and his body rolled majestically, the muscles of his abdomen glistening for the pearls of his sudation covered his cream-coloured skin. He was waving so gracefully inside me I could have climaxed from the view of him alone. But it was his gaze over mine and my hand he grabbed and tangled between his own fingers, his thrusting more cadenced and vigorous, that unleashed my orgasm. He bent over me, kissed me, as if he wanted to swallow all that I was releasing into the world, and he continued his movements, his groans more and more unbearably indecent and exciting. “Can I keep going? Please, I want to keep going…” he whined against my lips, his hips incapable of staying immobile and I almost begged him to continue, to never stop. The feeling was too good, too liberating, too immensely impeccable, his body, his face deeply deformed by the satisfaction he experienced, I couldn’t get enough of this, I never would, not even in an eternity.

“Fuck… please?” he asked again and straightened his spine, looked at me as if I had been the oasis in the desert, his fingers trailing between my breast, on my stomach, until the apex of my thighs, that he rubbed slowly, torturously. He was still throbbing inside me, so delicately, waiting for my approval. His other hand closed around my ankle and lifted my leg, so my foot would be right next to his mouth. He kissed it, without taking his eyes off me, still anticipative for my response, his fangs taunting the side, and I jolted at the sensible rub. “You’re not focused, my sweet. And I’m getting impatient.” he complained with his voice low and his eyes reproachful.

My body struggled descending the first climax he had given me, and my breath was still very much distraught, but he could have everything. My head nodded as I closed once again my lids, trying desperately to find back the sense of myself. And his next move did the work.

As he used my leg to pivot, he entangled his arm around my waist and lifted, while the rest of my body turned, the wooden table now scraping my aching breast, my toes barely touching the ground. Astarion’s cock twitched against my thigh and he didn’t wait another second to plunge back inside, a beautiful sigh of relief escaping his mouth. He didn’t say more.

His groans and moans were the most perfect sounds I’d ever heard. I didn’t imagine him so vocal. He’d always been in control of himself, of his emotions and feelings, and seeing him like this, so dishevelled, so bold and comfortable with me, it almost brought tears to my eyes, and I was glad I was not facing him.

His thrusts were fast, mighty, dominant, and I loved it. He groped me everywhere, kissed me, bit me but never to the blood, only to mark, and I was so desperate for him to be mine, I let him. If he wanted my body to be a representation of who I was to him, if he needed me to be physically wounded to imprint his belongings, I would gladly give myself to the pain. He grabbed my nape, my hair, my ass, changed his attention as if he couldn’t get enough of everything that was displayed for him to enjoy, and I felt the orgasm reach for me yet again, knowing the fulfilment he was having enough of a motor to make me yell between these four walls, scream so loud, the entirety of Baldur would hear us.

“Shit…” Astarion cursed and I sensed it wouldn’t take long before he would give in to the blissful delight of his own release. He clenched my waist with one hand, the other one disappearing through my hair and acknowledging himself climaxed sufficed to make my body join him, with impressive force. Our yells and cries united and the walls even shivered. "Gods..." he whispered, his face buried inside my neck, that he bit gently, linking our bodies in more ways than one. We breathed loudly for minutes, stayed laying down on the table, incapable of moving anything else than our busts for the oxygen to come in and out. But he finally withdrew himself from me, and lifted my upper body to him, cuddling my burning skin against his cold flesh. His lips found my hair, my temples, my neck, my shoulders, he planted his kisses like he would sow a field of flowers and shower them with love. He hummed against my ear, his hands solidly attached to my belly, and murmured, “that’s right, darling. I love you.”