Willan
Beneath my fingers Nikolo is completely open to me.
Usually it’s nearly impossible to read a vampire like this.
Their nature provides them protection against other beings' magical intrusions. But Nikolo is completely laid bare before me. His hopes and his fears—especially his fears. There are so many layers I wonder if he’s even aware of them all? But then, how many of us truly are.
It’s humbling to have someone so truly raw and open, and I don’t take it for granted.
Not for a second. I focus on the crystals on my altar and stroke his curls, running my fingers between the coils, and call to the energy of the crystal.
Strength, security, safety. Home. I find the frequency and envision blowing on it, like a flame, feeling it grow and pulsate until it wraps around us and fills the circle.
I section off a portion of hair, using a clip made of cabassas shell to keep the rest of his hair out of the way.
Using all of my years of training, I bring my focus back to what I’m doing.
On top of the feelings tumbling out of Nikolo like a block tower that’s just been waiting for the moment to fall, having my hands on him is causing me all kinds of problems. It’s not the first time I’ve worked magic with an erection, but usually the erection’s the point and I’m using sex to raise energy for work. Not today. Not with Nikolo.
Seeing his pain and his joy laid out in front of me on the astral plane, I understand everything and it only drives my need to wrap him in all the protection I can offer.
Still drawing from the crystal, I begin weaving the strands of the braid together relying on muscle memory.
It allows me to sink entirely into the magic, to become a conduit for it.
I reach the end of the braid, but I’m not done yet.
I don’t feel ready. Shifting positions so my legs are splayed on either side of Nikolo, I section off more hair and begin another braid.
I have to consciously haul myself back from my own emotions about Nikolo, the years of pent up longing and wanting.
The last thing I need to do is bind them to him.
Instead, I use that energy to channel blessings into the braid—all my hopes that he finds what he’s searching for on the path he’s exploring.
At the end of the second braid, the work feels complete.
I knot it off happily and release the rest of his hair from the clip.
I’m not quite ready to let him go, though, my thighs tightening unconsciously around his hips.
Nikolo doesn’t seem in a rush to get up either.
Once again my fingers delve into his hair, and without my crossed legs blocking him, he melts completely into my gentle petting, sinking back until he’s leaning entirely against my chest.
The air is thick with the energy of my magic.
It’s like a fuzzy cocoon, sealing us entirely away from the outside world.
I keep petting his hair, only the angle is awkward, so naturally my hands drop, following their own path down to his shoulders, his arms and eventually his chest. I stroke and massage, digging my fingers into Nikolo's firm muscles through his shirt.
Magic—free floating energy—continues to swirl around us, intensifying the feelings. Against my chest I feel Nikolo’s head turn, and then the weight of his gaze on me.
My eyes crack open, Nikolo’s face filling my vision.
He looks more beautiful than I’ve ever known.
It fractures something inside me, to have him look at me like that.
With all the heat, desire and wanting I’ve ever felt reflecting back at me.
My tongue darts out to lick at my lips, and his eyes flicker to watch—so fast I barely catch the reflex.
It makes my heart jump and my pulse thunder and I know the second he hears the racing of it.
I can’t be the one to lean down, to close the distance between us. It has to be him. I need it to be him. The moment elongates like a droplet gathering, and then it falls—and Nikolo straightens, surging towards me.
My eyes close again and I feel the clasp of his palm on my jaw, keeping me in place as his lips seal themselves against me.
I’m tumbling, falling into the abyss. Or just onto the floor as Nikolo just keeps coming, his mouth sealed to mine.
My back against the floor, I wrap my arms around him, hauling him more securely over me so his chest is plastered to mine.
His tongue licks at the seam of my lips and I greedily allow him in, letting him taste and plunder to his heart's content.
Usually I prefer to be in control, but not when someone is so thoroughly ravishing me.
His tongue strokes mine and I feel it in my cock.
His hand on my jaw holds me possessively, like he needs me to stay right there at his mercy.
Whatever Nikolo needs, I’m happy to give.
My hands clench his back, bunching his shirt in my fists as my hips roll in a futile search for friction.
It would be too easy to drag him completely on top of me, to settle him between my thighs and rut away against him until we cover each other in cum.
The wanting coils in my gut, increasing the intoxicating feeling of the kiss.
He kisses me leisurely, thoroughly, until I forget about everything but the taste of him. Even breathing. Nikolo senses it before I do, pulling off away to press quick, frantic kisses along my jaw and down my throat while I gulp down lungfuls of air and writhe on the floor.
A fang scrapes my skin, not nearly sharp enough to pierce the skin, only suggesting it.
Electricity spikes through my veins at the brief contact, my body jerking sharply upwards.
My hands tighten on Nikolo’s flanks but before I can make sense of my own reaction, or beg him to do it again, he’s kissing his way back up my neck to claim my mouth again.
His tongue finds its way back between my teeth and I’m drowning.
Need rolls through my body in time with Nikolo’s rhythmic rocking.
I slip my hand under his shirt, his cool skin soothing to my fevered body, but apart from my fingers skirting teasingly under the waistband of his pants, neither of us take it any further.
After minutes or hours, I’m not even sure, he pulls away, letting me breathe once again. His forehead drops to mine and I’m surrounded by his golden curls, the end of his braid tickling my chin.
My lips hurt in the most perfect way. Swollen and bruised, I lick at them just to relish in the feeling.
Nose to nose, forehead to forehead, Nikolo’s eyes are softly shut, his body unnaturally still above me.
He’s so close he’s blurry in the light, already misty from the magical energy stirring in the breeze rolling from me.
There isn’t a single part of me that believes that just happened. Even with Nikolo still draped across my chest, his erection pressed against my hip, our legs intertwined and locked together.
Was it just the magic? A moment? A future regret? I can’t bring myself to ask just yet—instead, I let my body go lax, letting my legs fall from his and my hands to fall loosely to his sides.
“I have to go. The sun… I can feel it. It’s too close.
” Nikolo’s voice is raspy, thick with lust. His hips rock into me one more time and he presses one more kiss to my lips, igniting the ache in my mouth and my cock.
I didn’t realise how long we’ve been in here.
It doesn’t feel like anywhere long enough.
“Are—are you going to be okay to get home?” It takes a couple of tries for me to get the words out. My throat is so parched. Slowly Nikolo withdraws, and the distance is like a vacuum sucking in reality.
“Uh, yeah.” He’s shaky, sitting back on his heels, and running a hand through his hair. It’s a mess, a glorious, beautiful mess, his curls in absolute chaos. Frowning, he looks around like he’s trying to regain his bearings. “If I go now, I’ll be fine.”
“Do you need blood before you go?” I still haven’t gotten up from the floor. His eyes flicker over my face and, more than once, to my neck.
It wasn’t a direct offer, but right now, I’d give it gratefully.
“There’s no time.” Regret laces his words and his eyes narrow on the bare patch of skin and my throbbing pulse.
“A bottle. For the road. I insist. Please.” I bury my hands in the layers of my oqic to hide my clenched fists.
The temptation to reach for him, to pull him to me and bury myself in him is too strong.
What if we leave this room and it’s all over?
Could I bear it? I take in a steadying breath and summon a smile.
“Okay.” He agrees with a soft smile that makes my stomach quiver. I am so monumentally fucked for this man.
He stands and offers me a hand. And when I’m standing too, I decide to just not let it go. If nothing else, I need the grounding touch after leaving ritual work unsealed like I have. Already the room feels fuzzy.
“Stay hydrated.” I say as he makes his way down the steps to the street, a habitual reminder for all practitioners when they leave a session.
“You too, Willan. Night.” One last look, a wave, a tentative smile and he’s leaving.
Exhausted, exhilarated, conflicted, I make my way back up to my apartment and dispel the magic. The earth rumbles as it accepts the release. From my bed, I watch the sunrise, not a thought in my head, until I can’t stay awake any longer.
I thought—feared—that would be the last I heard from Nikolo. Which is why I’m shocked when I get the text message two nights later as soon as the sun sets.
Nikolo
Hey. Can I come over?
Halfway through a meeting with Egbert and some of our senior instructors, I almost lose my cool in front of everyone.
Yeah sure. All the staff will still be here for another two hours. We’re in a meeting.
Okay. What about just after 10?