Chapter 61 Lucian
Lucian
I cradle her in my arms, breathing in the warm, feminine scent of her sexual need.
The Passion wine is driving her hard, making her ache inside to be pleasured…
to be filled. It’s a potent, magical aphrodisiac, and it’s turned her into a trembling, desperate thing.
Her skin is flushed, her eyes glassy with want and a guilt that cuts me deeper than any blade ever could.
“Hanna…” she whispers, her head pressed against my shoulder. “She’s so sick… I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be feeling like this…”
“Shhh, little one,” I murmur into her hair, holding her tighter.
Her body is a live wire against mine, every curve pressed to me screaming with unmet need.
I can smell the sweet heat of her arousal—an intoxicating perfume that calls to the darkest, most possessive parts of my nature.
She needs. And I know exactly what she needs.
She needs to come, over and over, until the wine’s frantic edge is blunted.
She needs to be filled, stretched, claimed—to feel something solid and real chasing away the hollow, guilty ache.
She needs my cock buried deep inside her, and she needs my release flooding her, a physical anchor in the storm of magic and emotion.
And I am going to give it to her.
Even though I know the cost. To take her like this, to join with her while her soul is laid so bare by the wine and her own heart…
it will forge a connection. A partial Soul Bond—a tether from my essence to hers.
It will make the thought of existing without her a phantom pain that never fades.
My survival, my centuries of detached control, will become dependent on the warmth of this one, mortal woman.
It is the worst kind of tactical error—the most profound vulnerability I could possibly inflict on myself.
I find I don’t care.
For tonight, for her, I will make the sacrifice. I will have her just once, as she needs me to.
“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” I say, my voice a low rumble of desire. “Let me take the guilt away. Let me give you what you’re craving.”
I lay her back on the silk sheets of my bed, her long hair fanning out like a shadow. She whimpers, her hips lifting in a silent, beautiful plea.
“Look at you,” I breathe, kneeling between her spread thighs.
She is glistening, swollen, and utterly open for me. The scent of her—pure need, mixed with the floral notes of the wine—is an aphrodisiac more powerful than any magic.
“So wet for me already. So perfect. This pretty little pussy is begging for my mouth, isn’t it?”
She nods and moans softly, beyond words because her need has grown so great.
I don’t make her wait. I lower my head and taste her.
The first touch of my tongue draws a sharp, broken cry from her lips.
She is salt and silk and heat—an ambrosia that makes my heart clench.
I feast on her, not with the gentleness of before, but with a focused, driving hunger meant to shatter her restraint.
I lick into her, tasting her honey, then zero in on the tight, throbbing bud of her clit.
I suck it into my mouth, flicking my tongue over it with rapid, relentless strokes.
“Oh God, Lucian! Right there!” she sobs, her hands flying to my hair, gripping hard. I love the pain of her grip—it makes my whole body tight with need.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I growl against her sensitive flesh, the vibration making her jerk. “Come on my tongue. Let go of everything. The guilt, the worry… let it all go. Just come for me.”
I slide two fingers inside her, curling them, finding that sweet spot deep within. She is so wet and so incredibly hot. I pump my fingers in time with the ruthless attention of my mouth, scissoring them, stretching her gently, preparing her.
“I can’t… I’m going to…going to…” she chokes out.
“Do it,” I command. “Come for me. Now.” Then I suck her clit into my mouth again and tease her relentlessly.
Her orgasm hits her like a hurricane. Her back arches off the bed, a ragged moan tearing from her throat as a fresh wave of honey hits my tongue. I drink her down, lapping up her juices until she collapses, breathless and gasping.
But the wine is not sated. The need returns to her eyes almost instantly—even hotter and more frantic. She reaches for me, her eyes filled with pleading.
“Please… Lucian, please. I need… I need you inside me. I need to be full.”
The raw need in her voice is my undoing.
“I know, little one,” I say, my own control fraying.
I stand, shedding my sleep trousers in quick, efficient motions. Her eyes widen as she sees me fully aroused for the first time. I am not modest—I am a vampire in his prime, and the evidence of my desire for her is thick, heavy, and impressively proportioned.
A flicker of fear crosses her face, followed by a dizzying wave of pure desire.
“Lucian…you’re so big,” she whispers.
“Yes, but I’ll be gentle, my darling,” I promise, lying back on the bed. I pull her atop me, guiding her to straddle my hips. “You set the pace, Julia. You take what you need. Use me.”
Her hands brace on my chest as she kneels over me, her soft little pussy hovering just above the tip of my cock. I grip my length, guiding it to her entrance, rubbing the broad head against her slippery inner pussy, coating myself in her honey.
“Easy,” I whisper, my hands settling on her lush hips. “Just the tip first. Get used to me inside you, sweetheart.”
“All right. I’ll try to go slow,” she whispers.
She bites her lip, her eyes locked on mine and begins to sink down.
The friction is delicious.
The head of my cock pushes past her tight entrance, and we both bite back a gasp.
She is impossibly tight—a velvet glove wrapped around me.
I can feel her inner walls stretching to accommodate me, clinging to me with a pressure that borders on pain—divine, exquisite pain.
I watch her face, seeing the shock…the overwhelming fullness…
the moment of panic that melts into stunned pleasure.
“Oh… oh, God,” she breathes, her inner walls spasming wildly around me.
“That’s it,” I coax, squeezing her ample hips. “Just breathe through it, my darling. You’re taking me so well—you’re being such a good girl.”
I don’t move, letting her adjust, letting her body learn the shape of mine.
Slowly, tentatively, she sinks down another inch…
then another. A low, continuous moan spills from her lips.
I am encased in liquid fire—sheathed in the most perfect heat I have ever known.
When she finally seats herself fully, taking me to the hilt, her body flush against mine, we are both trembling.
“Gods, Julia,” I groan, my head falling back against the pillows. The feeling is beyond anything. She’s taking me so deep. “You feel so good around me,” I tell her. “Like you were made for me.”
“God, Lucian,” she moans softly. “I love the feel of you inside me. I was feeling so empty until you filled me.”
“Take your time,” I tell her. “Take it slow, sweetheart.”
“I…I’m trying.”
She begins to move—a tentative rocking of her hips. Sensation explodes along my spine. My hands tighten on her, guiding her, showing her the rhythm.
“That’s right,” I urge, my voice rough. “Ride me, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on my cock. Take your pleasure with me—use me to fill that empty ache.”
“Oh, Lucian…”she moans.
Gods, I love the sound of my name on her lips.
Emboldened by my encouragement, she rises up until only the tip of my cock remains inside, then sinks back down with a soft cry. She sets a slow, deep rhythm, each descent an act of surrender as she takes me so deep inside, over and over.
I watch her, mesmerized—the bounce of her full breasts…the flush on her cheeks…the look of rapturous concentration on her beautiful face.
“You look like a goddess,” I tell her, sitting up slightly to capture a nipple in my mouth, sucking hard.
“Lucian!” she cries out, her rhythm faltering.
I suck harder, then let her nipple slip from my lips.
“My gorgeous, curvy goddess, riding my cock so perfectly,” I growl. “Is this what you needed? Is this filling you up, sweetheart?”
“Yes!” she gasps, her movements becoming more urgent, less controlled. “Oh God, yes, Lucian! You’re so big. I feel you everywhere.”
I grip her hips, meeting her downward strokes with upward thrusts of my own, driving into her with increasing force.
The room fills with the sounds of her ragged moans and my guttural praises.
I can feel the tension coiling in her again, her inner muscles beginning to clamp down rhythmically around my cock.
“I’m close. Lucian, I’m so…so close!” she pants, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“Come for me, then,” I growl, driving up into her with relentless precision. “Come all over my cock. Milk me dry. Show me how good I make you feel.”
Her climax crashes over her. She screams, her body bowing backward, her internal muscles convulsing around me in a series of intense, pulsing ripples that threaten to drag me over the edge with her. The pleasure is blinding.
As the waves subside, she slumps forward against my chest, still impaled on me, breathing in harsh sobs.
Then, in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss and lingering effects of wine, she turns her head, exposing the vulnerable line of her throat to my lips.
Her words are a breathless, needy whisper against my ear.
“Bite me… please, Lucian. I want you to.”
The offer is a siren song. My fangs ache, elongating in immediate response. My whole being yearns to sink them into her throat, to take her blood at the peak of joining—to forge a full Soul-Bond that would tie her soul to mine for eternity. It would be the ultimate possession—the ultimate claim.
But it would also be the ultimate theft. She is not in her right mind. The wine…the pleasure…the guilt—they have her offering something she cannot fully comprehend.
With a supreme act of will that feels like tearing my own heart out, I turn my face away from her throat. I press a kiss to her temple instead, holding her sweet, curvy body close.
“No, my darling,” I say, my voice thick with a longing that is a physical pain inside me.
“Not like this. Not when the wine speaks for you. A full Soul-Bond is unbreakable. It is forever. And you…” I pull back to look into her dazed, beautiful eyes.
“You are not ready to be bound to an ancient monster forever. Not yet.”
“All…all right.”
The disappointment on her face is fleeting, washed away by another surge of the wine’s demand.
“Lucian…I feel…I need.”
“I know, sweetheart,” I tell her. “Go on—take what you need.”
She begins to move again—a slow, grinding roll of her hips, seeking another peak.
I let her, focusing on the physical…on giving her the release she needs.
Gods, she feels so good around me—I grit my teeth and hold back, wanting her to find her pleasure again and again—as many times as she needs to before I come myself.
But I can’t hold out forever—she feels too good around me.
“Gods, sweetheart,” I hear myself growling. “Can’t help it. Going to…to come!”
“Come inside me,” she moans without hesitation. “Please, Lucian—fill me up!”
Her words come out in a moan, and I feel my cock surge at the hunger in them.
I can’t hold back—my climax rips through me with a force that steals my breath. I hold her hips down, burying myself to the root as I empty into her, pulse after hot, endless pulse, filling her soft little pussy with my seed.
“Good girl,” I groan as I pulse into her. “Such a good girl to take me so deep…to take my cum in your sweet little cunt!”
She moans and grinds against me, begging for more and I give it to her, pulsing into her again and again until both of us are completely drained.
I have to be honest with myself—this is a claiming. Even without the full Soul-Bond it has formed a partial tether that I can feel snapping into place in the metaphysical shadows of my soul.
It’s a hook in my heart, which will now forever be tied to hers.
“Oh, Lucian…that was so good,” Julia moans. “It was exactly what I needed—thank you.”
She collapses atop me, finally spent, the frantic energy of the Passion wine dissipated at last. I hold her there, still joined, as our breathing slows. I stroke her hair, feeling the new, fragile connection humming between us—a connection that means I am now, irrevocably, hers.
And I know, with a certainty that dwarfs all my centuries of existence, that I would pay this price a thousand times over.