Epilogue
They say never touch a mage’s grimoire unsupervised.
One might imagine Jackson would have learned this lesson from the last time he got tangled, suspended from the ceiling, and left mildly helpless. However, that is not the case today.
One of the lesser known hazards of an academics spell book lies in slightly mistranslated text and issues with pronunciation.
For example: conjuring a string of lights to decorate the home Jackson has made with his two loving fiances, as a holiday surprise.
What can happen, if one is unprepared, is the conjuration of a rope like binding of lights. That then tighten to the unfortunate caster, attach to the high ceiling of a park view apartment, and leave one Jackson Nocturne suspended in the air. Arms bound before him, legs spread, back arched.
And utterly, frustrated.
Another issue that can arise is that ropes of pure light can repel the advent of helpful shadows, no longer a bane on Jackson’s soul. For the light conjured might not burn his flesh, but it does keep his tendrils from getting him down
“Well…shit.” Says Jackson, for there is truly nothing else to say in a moment quite like this.
“Daddy, daddy,” calls Princess.
“A little busy, sweetie.”
The primped and pampered little raccoon scampers down the stairs from the second floor of the apartment. She twitches her nose, eyes wide and blinking as she stares at the trussed up vampiric elf prince.
“I’m bored. Can I go play?”
“Let daddy get down from this and he’ll take you to the park. Can you be a good little girl and take my phone from the kitchen counter and call your Baba?”
Before Princess can comply and get Jackson the professional assistance he needs, the front door creaks open.
“Hello, anyone home?” Calls Eddie.
Oh perfect. “Darling, a little help in here!”
Eddie pokes his head in, stifling a snort. The neighbor boy and family friend, Kamal, pops his head in through the door and waves.
“Hi, Mr. Prince Nocturne.”
“Just Jackson or Mr. Nocturne is fine, Kamal.”
“Kay. Can Princess come out and play?”
“Yay!” Princess scampers to the door, waving to Eddie. “Hi, Appa.” She abandons her father, hopping onto the young boy’s shoulder, as Eddie waves them off to go play.
“Oh sure fine, don’t worry about your father. Honestly that raccoon,” sighs Jackson, defeated.
Eddie chuckles, dropping his things off on the counter. “Let her have her fun, Yeo-bo. I’m here to help.”
“So… ” Eddie saunters up behind Jackson, fingers tracing the cords of light. “How did this happen?”
Jackson huffs. “Your mother was a Christmas person growing up.” Jackson struggles to angle his head to look his fiance in the face.
“And you loved how she decorated for this time of year. Christmas might be an amalgamation of stolen and appropriated winters celebrations but it means a lot to you. So,” Jackson grunts, giving up his struggle, panting out a breath, “I wanted to decorate the house in the cheesy hallmark style you like. And I know Hakeem is a sucker for those movies, so I wanted to do a movie night with just Christmas lights for ambiance.”
“And one thing led to another, and here we are,” muses Eddie, one long finger tracing Jackson’s spine. He thrills in the shiver his mate delivers under the motion.
“Yes, now can you help me out of this or call Hakeem and-” Jackson yelps, startled as a firm smack lands on his black sweatpants covered ass.
“EDMUND SEUNG-LALUNE WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE-”
Eddie growls, heat caressing Jackson’s ear, “Safe word, my love?”
Oh. OH! Oh….kay
“Midnight,” Jackson swallows, pushing the word out in a tremor.
“Would you like to use it?” Eddie presses his nose into the shell of Jackson’s ear, inhaling greedily.
“I suppose…” Jackson bites back a groan when Eddie grabs his ass in one large, calloused hand, “I can see what you have in mind before-Shit.” Eddie nibbles Jackson’s neck. “Uh…before untangling myself.”
“How kind of you, my sweet prince.” Eddie trails kisses along Jackson’s neck. “To let me unwrap you like the great gift you are.”
Something beastly and primal coats his voice. “Like the perfect little toy for me to fuck and claim.”
Having learned to work in harmony with the Lycan, Eddie’s control over beast and magic has only grown in the time since the incident. His left hand, the one not decorated with the band of three twisted metals, turns into that of a mighty beast with sharp, obsidian claws
With a fluid motion of power and grace he rips through the plush fabric of Jackson’s designer sweats, tearing through the black silk of his boxers, exposing a pink winking hole
“Eager”, pants Jackson, heat clawing up his throat and settling low in his gut. His pierced cock, still covered by the lingering scraps of his under garments, thickens in anticipation.
Being so exposed and submissive, something he would have never allowed himself after his loss all those decades ago, feels right now. As though he was meant to submit to this snarling beast, for he knows as much as he will be claimed, filled, and devoured. He is loved and safe
Even when Eddie is about to fuck him like a prized whore with the meaty cock bulging in his jeans.
Eddie delivers two more smacks to the muscles of Jackson’s ass, licking his lips, canines turning more and more monstrous at the sight of pinking flesh.
Whereas Jackson might not be as soft and supple as Hakeem, there is still plenty of well sculpted meat for Eddie to devour.
And he is ravenous.
Filling his hands with one cheek each, he pulls Jackson apart, burying his nose into Winter’s heir’s crease.
Jackson can’t help the moan of desire that rips from him, his writhing suppressed only by the ropes of light binding him, leaving him vulnerable to Eddie’s attention.
Eddie wastes no time, eagerly licking, tasting his mate’s private flesh.
His hands knead the skin of his cheeks as he moans into slurping around the puckering ring. Jackson abandons the idea of suppressing his voice, letting it ring true for his beloved’s ears.
“Eddie-fuck fuck fuck! Eddie.”
“You are delicious, baby. I’m addicted to your taste.”
Eddie continues his feast, presenting two thick fingers to Jackson’s salivating mouth. No words are needed for Jackson to take the digits into his mouth. His tongue swirls around their girth as if they were Eddie’s cock, eager to fuck the royal throat.
Once satisfied with his mate’s worship, Eddie withdraws his hand, pressing the moistened appendages to Jackson’s quivering hole.
Eddie massages his fingers against Jackson’s eaten out ass, playfully pressing against the ring of muscles as Jackson pants and whimpers with every moment.
“My love, my life, my Eddie. Please.”
“Please,what, my prince?” Eddie, with grace Jackson would find aggravating if his mind were not clouded by lust and desire, re-works the ropes of light so that his fingers can stay pressed against Jackson’s entrance and his head can tip back so that his lips can be captured by Eddie’s hungry mouth.
The kiss leaves a string of saliva, thin and drooping, when Eddie pulls back, cupping Jackson’s cheek softly in one calloused palm.
“I need…” Jackson swallows, gasping as the tips of Eddie’s fingers push ever so slightly in.
“More, Eddie, please.”
“To see you beg so sweetly, is the strongest drug.” Eddie’s laces kisses along Jackson jaw
“Tell me—beg me—what you want me to do to you, my dark king.”
Jackson can only whimper, eyes cloudy and dazed. His cock leaks against the useless fabric of his boxers. Eddie is holding him so sweetly, gently.
“Fuck me. Fill me with your monstrous cock and fuck my princely eleven hole like you hate me. Breed me and claim me.
“Fuck. Me.”
Eddie’s grin is devilish against Jackson’s eager lips.
Taking a page from his sweet Hakeem, he locks his lips over Jackson’s in a filthy kiss as his finger continues to play with his hole. “As you wish, my prince.”
Eddie hurries to his gym bag, reluctant to leave his writhing mate unfilled with his cock for even a moment longer, acquiring a bottle of lube. One of many stashed throughout the apartment and their personal items.
He squirts a generous amount onto his hand, warming it up as Jackson looks over his shoulder, begging to be used like a cock sleeve.
Eddie bites the flesh of Jackson’s ass, reveling in the mark before it heals by the power of his vampiric blood.
It always seems Eddie’s bites heal slowest, as though even his immortality wants to be marked by the Alpha of legend.
“Eddie, please. Please. Fuck!”
Jackson’s body twitches as two fingers work his hole, followed so soon by a third.
“You are made to be fucked, my sweet winter prince.”
Eddie tears the shirt off Jackson, eyes tracing the flex of the muscles in his back.
“Look at you, begging for my cock, so eagerly stretching for me. Shivering, submissive, my beautiful mate.”
Jackson can only whimper, nodding as saliva drips from his fangs.
Eddie withdraws his fingers, pulling his throbbing cock from his pants. He lubes his member and lines up, hands clamping down on Jackson’s hips and finally, thrusts into the tight heat of his mate, both men groaning in pleasure.
“You take me so well,” murmurs Eddie. Mesmerized by the way Jackson stretches to accommodate his girth.
His throbbing member slides out of the tight, wet heat, before he stares in utter fascination when he pushes back in.
His hips move in a steady rhythm of long, slow thrusts.
The shaft pulling out all the way till just the bulbous tip remains squeezed by Jackson walls, only for Eddie to bury himself to the hilt, time and time again.
“Eddie-harder, faster. Please. I want it rough and-Ah!”
Jackson’s body shivers and Eddie snaps his hips, the sound of flesh slapping together echoing through the otherwise quiet apartment