Epilogue Scotty
Oh, crap. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. I wasn’t expecting my girl to actually have it in her to cuff me to the bed and now she’s going to blow me while I can’t move? This is like a dream scenario for me. How do I get through without fucking it up?
Juliette looks so small at the foot of the bed, but the energy that’s radiating off of her is enormous to a suffocating degree.
Which is fine. I don’t breathe, anyway, right?
She pulls my boots off one at a time, and she’s not quick about it, either.
Mostly because she struggles with the laces, but when she looks up at me from between my legs, there’s a mischievous grin on her face that tells me she’s enjoying this. Watching me squirm. Literally.
I pull against the cuffs and groan as the cold metal presses into my skin. Damn. These kind of hurt, actually. Love this for me. My boots clunk onto the floor. Juliette works on my belt buckle next. She places it next to my leg neatly like she’s setting aside folded laundry.
“What’s next, Jules?” I rasp. She meets my gaze and her eyes flicker to a lovely shade of rouge.
Oh, she’s in the mood. Good. My throat tightens as I watch her unzip my pants, pull them down over my hips, and toss them aside.
It all happened so fast—as fast as when she cuffed me.
That’s one of the only downsides about having an older girlfriend.
She can overpower me at every turn, no contest.
Jules climbs onto the bed with the softness of a cat, and crawls across my chest on all fours.
My cock twitches painfully beneath her, sensing her pussy only a few centimeters away.
All I want to do right now is bury my length in her cunt, but my girl clearly has other ideas.
She looks down at me from her perch on my chest.
“What now?” I rasp. The corners of Juliette’s lips curl upward. My arms hang limply in the air. Once I figured out moving in the cuffs hurts like fuck, I stopped straining against them.
Juliette doesn’t answer me with words. Instead, she traps my mouth in hers and cups my cheeks in her palms. The kiss is hard, deep, and passionate.
We haven’t kissed like this in what feels like ages when in reality it’s probably only been a week.
But still, my girl tastes as sweet as a cherry liqueur and twice as dangerous.
I could get drunk on her kisses alone, but she’s not going to let me have the satisfaction, no, because she’s already pulling away and moving back toward my cock, which stabs pitifully at the air.
I feel like a boy. Small and sad. An embarrassment in contrast to my girlfriend, who is…
She lowers herself in between my legs and grasps my cock in her palm.
Her eyes lock with mine and flicker between their natural color and that deep red.
I swallow thickly, and Juliette drags her tongue up from my balls all the way to the tip.
A long, arduous moan escapes my throat as she tortures me with her tongue.
There’s no way I’m going to last long at this rate.
Not when she’s in this kind of feral mood.
I mutter something under my breath and even I don’t know what the fuck language I’m speaking in, because it might as well be tongues. Juliette scrapes her fangs along my shaft, making the last remnants of my soul leave my body.
“J-Jules? What are you doing, sweetheart—”
She pierces the flesh of my cock with her fangs.
Red, hot rivulets of blood flow freely from my cock to flow over my balls, staining the bedsheets.
I let out a guttural scream as Juliette sinks her fangs into the flesh of her own wrist. She holds her wrist over my cock, allowing her blood to mix with mine.
The bite wounds along my shaft close immediately and disappear without any scarring.
It’s as if she never bit me in the first place.
My hips jerk upward, and I accidentally hit her cheek with my cock. I wince as her gaze snaps to mine again, and she bares her fangs like the predator that she is.
“There’s my girl,” I murmur. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
She sinks her fangs into my inner thigh, and I scream again.
Oh, fuck. The pain. The agony. It’s all I’ve ever wanted and then some.
I’m on the bloody brink of orgasm, and I’m pretty sure Jules can sense it, too, because her eyes snap open and she jumps down onto the floor in front of the bed.
She rips off her jeans and t-shirt and discards the black lingerie she had on underneath.
“W-w-wait,” I protest, straining against my bonds. “Let me see! Did you just buy that set?”
Dammit. I told her to let me check out any new lingerie when she gets it, and here she went and wore it and now it’s already on the floor. It’s so unfair. Stark naked and standing at the foot of the bed, Jules reaches forward between my legs to play around in the blood.
“Baby, I am so close. Can we—” I start, but the scowl Juliette shoots me says that if I want to keep my balls attached to the rest of my body, I should probably shut the fuck up now. “Right. Got it.”
Juliette smears my blood all over her collarbone, then down her breasts until they’re a deep crimson. The sickly sweet tang of copper permeates the air, along with our shared arousal.
She climbs on top of me again, and once she’s over my pelvis, she lowers herself down onto my length. We groan in unison as she sinks down onto my cock and balls until I’m completely immersed within her.
“This is not as fun when you can’t touch me,” she grumbles, then leans forward to unlatch my cuffs. My arms, which are feeling like noodles at this point but whatever, drop down onto the pillows.
“Ow. Thanks, love,” I say, and flex my fingers. “Yeah. Still working.”
Juliette nods. “Good. Although I can mend any injury you may have now that I have had adequate enough rest.”
Ever since Juliette started feeding properly and getting enough rest at night, she’s been able to heal pretty much whatever. A stab wound, a bullet to the chest. Anything, so long as she gets the victim her blood in time.
Instinctively I take her hips into my grip and start to bounce her up and down my length. Juli’s breasts jiggle with the movements, and my orgasm slowly starts its buildup again.
“This…” I croak out. “Feels … so … fucking … good.”
Juliette says nothing. Instead, she stares down at me with such intensity I almost go limp inside of her. I love my girlfriend deeply, but she can be such a little freak, which only makes me love her harder. She leans down and runs her fangs along the crook of my neck, then down my throat.
“Scotty,” she whispers hoarsely.
I move my hands from her waist to wrap my arms around her middle, hugging her while my cock pulsates inside of her.
“Yes, my love?” I whisper back. Her gaze finds mine again, only there’s no ferocity there anymore. No sharp edges.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
I arch an eyebrow and press my nose against hers. Boop. “For what?”
My cock aches inside of her. It yearns for release, yeah, but this?
This is good, too. I kiss her forehead, then her eyelids, and finally her lips.
She moans against my mouth as our tongues mingle together, just two companions of the night understanding one another.
It’s been a lonely few centuries for Jules, but now that she’s with me, I’m going to make sure she’ll never be lonely ever again.
Juliette moans into my mouth again as she rides me.
“Jules,” I whimper, feeling my own orgasm reach the precipice.
I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to hold it off.
I don’t want to disappoint her, but this is beginning to feel impossible.
She’s so tight and I am so, so very weak against the power she holds over me.
I watch as she plants her palms on my chest and lifts herself.
“Noooo,” I moan. “Now I can’t kiss you.”
Once she starts bouncing on my cock, though, all protestations die on my lips. Especially now that her breasts are jiggling again. Fuck. So godsdamned mesmerizing, those tits.
Bounce, bounce, bounce. I reach up to hold onto them and run my thumbs over her tight little nipples. Bounce, bounce, bounce. Fuck!
My hips buck against her a final time, and my orgasm comes in a thick, hot torrent. Juliette lets out a cry as her own climax crashes into her, and she falls onto my chest in a tiny heap. I wrap my arms around her once more and pant as my balls empty into her.
“Next time,” she murmurs against my cheek, “I want to try the riding crop.”
I let out a deep sigh as I hold her. Nothing else could ever come close to this feeling. This is what contented must feel like. It’s pretty great, yeah, but I’m still fearful of getting used to it. To any good feeling, really. Thanks, trauma.
“Next time, you can do whatever the hell you want,” I say.
The End