Work Text:
He spotted her from across the room and the music stopped. Everyone else disappeared as he locked his eyes on her.
He watched her as she talked with other people he didn’t bother making out, she might as well have been talking to a wall. She threw her head back laughing and he couldn’t control the corner of his lips from forming into a slight smile.
Her face lit up as she had genuine fun. His mind quickly wandered to a very dark place, and something awful stirred deep within him as he shook his head to clear his mind.
He hasn’t fed in a bit, and while he was hungry he could still control himself. A Halloween party was perfect, there were so many people he could choose from easily enough. She just made the mistake of catching his eye.
He took his drink he was only pretending to drink and made his way through the party over to her. He didn’t even know what he was going to say. He was on autopilot.
She noticed him from a few feet away and stopped talking, almost like a deer caught in the headlights.
He tried his best to ignore the fact her heart was beating faster every step he took closer to her. Neither of them noticed where her friends she was just talking to went as he got closer.
She was dressed as a vampire, a nice black dress and heels with little fangs on her canines, red lipstick and some fake blood out of the corner of her mouth.
The man approached her and smiled, flashing his own fangs. He loved Halloween for that reason, he didn’t have to hide who he was for one evening out of the year.
“Ooh, nice fangs,” she said as she smiled. “Are they more comfortable on the incisors rather than the canines?”
He let out a laugh and swirled the drink he hadn’t taken a single sip out of. “They are, actually. Easier to talk.”
“Man, I should’ve done that.” She held up her cup. “They hit it every time and I feel like I’m going to make a mess.”
He laughed and looked her up and down, realizing if he had a heart it would probably be beating just as fast as hers.
“Leon, you made it!” The familiar voice snapped him back to reality. He looked past her shoulders and saw a rather large man with a woman following close behind.
She followed his eyes and looked behind her, and her face instantly lit up when she saw them.
“Chris!” Leon exclaimed, genuine surprise in his voice.
Leon stuck his hand out for a handshake - but the large man wasn’t having it - and quickly pulled him in for a backbreaking hug.
The two women watched and laughed, the sight of them a very interesting one. A man the size of a doorway dressed as a lumberjack of sorts, trying to hug a vampire to death.
The lumberjack set him down after a minute, and Leon laughed and straightened himself out. “Geez, what the fuck have you been eating?”
Chris laughed, a genuinely warm laugh that could make anyone around him crack a smile.
She noticed he had some rather large canines too, not big enough to be fangs, but large enough to notice.
“It’s great to see you though, I didn’t know you were coming!” Chris said happily, and put his arm around the woman beside him, dressed as the red riding hood. “This is Marion, my girlfriend! And this is Leon, we go way back.”
Marion stuck her hand out, and Leon took it in his and shook it. “Very nice to meet you, Marion.”
Chris looked at the vampire besides Leon, and reached a hand out to introduce himself and Marion.
“We actually go way back too,” Marion explained. “We went to school together years ago, I can’t believe you’re here too!”
Chris got a look of surprise on his face. “‘Man, what are the odds we’re all here tonight?” He smiled, another flash of his sharp canines at her, when she realized he must be a werewolf and Marion as the red riding hood.
“So how did you two meet?” Marion asked, gesturing at both the vampires in front of her.
“We met right here, about three seconds before you walked up,” she laughed as she touched Leon’s bicep. “We were discussing very important vampire things, like how I put my fangs on the wrong teeth and he did it much better than me.”
He could feel how warm she was even through his coat and shirt. His jaw tensed slightly, quickly realizing he must have looked uncomfortable when he noticed the way Chris was looking at him.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” she said warmly as she turned to him.
“My pleasure,” he said with a smile.
“Well, we better go see if there’s any of those little Halloween cookies left. It was great talking to you both,” Chris began, holding his hand out for Marion.
“Let’s catch up later, okay?” Marion said to her as she followed Chris through the crowded party.
“Of course!”
She smiled at them both, turning back to Leon as they disappeared in the crowd. Marion, anyways. Chris was easily the tallest here, there was no losing him in a crowded room.
“So,” she said, almost shyly.
Leon felt her heart rate spike. He could feel it over the music, over the crowd. He pretended to take another sip as he raised an eyebrow at her, waiting patiently for her to finish her sentence.
There was something awful, something dark growing inside of him, and she had no idea.
“Do you uh,” she laughed, and shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“Nervous?” He laughed.
You should be.
She ran a hand through her hair, and his eye twitched. He nearly snapped his neck, averting his gaze so violently. She had an undercut, shaved all around her head he hadn’t noticed before.
She was too lost in her own train of thought to have noticed the effect she had on him.
“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” She blurted out. He still wasn’t looking at her, but could feel the way her cheeks immediately flushed.
He could tell it took every bit of her courage to ask him such a simple question. He enjoyed how nervous she was far too much, in the worst possible way.
He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face, full of every horrible intention he could muster. “Oh, I would love to.” He didn’t think it would be this easy. “Want to go upstairs?”
He waited for her answer, not even being able to hear a yes or no by how distracted he was by her; the way his eyes kept flickering to her lips, how fucking soft her skin would be under his touch, under his teeth.
His brows knit as he had to mentally shift gears, his pants growing tighter the more he looked at her.
She must have said yes, as she took his hand in her own and he felt fire spread across his entire body, and every moment was harder than the last to not take her right now for everyone to see.
“You’re so cold,” she said, concerned.
“I think I’ll warm up soon enough,” he toyed back.
She bit her lip again at his flirting back, and it didn’t help his self control.
She led the way upstairs to a bathroom, the noise of the party slowly fading away with every step, but getting closer to a fate she was still oblivious to.
She took her fangs out, and he took the opportunity of her back being turned to hide his fangs for now, letting her think he was human until the time was right.
She got to the door first, and turned to him with a smile on her face that he couldn’t wait to steal off of her lips.
She opened it and dragged him in behind her, and the door wasn’t even shut behind him before her hands were on him, running up his shirt.
“Thought you were shy,” he said, caught off guard yet again.
“Guess it passed,” she cracked another smile. “Unless you want me to stop.”
“Don’t stop,” he had to focus every cell in his body to keep himself controlled. Closing his eyes only made it worse, she smelled so good . He felt her pulse everywhere she touched, and he wanted nothing more to rip her fucking throat out for even looking in his direction and making him feel this.
With his hands on her hips he led her to the counter, and she got the hint and jumped on, and spread her legs.
His jaw twitched as had a perfect view of her . The way her dress was riding up her thighs and how the light behind her made her glow.
“What are you waiting for?” She practically purred.
I’m waiting to rip you apart. To sink my teeth into every artery that runs through your perfect fucking body. To feel the way your heart gets weaker and weaker as I eat you alive. To get off to your dying breath. And to make you regret ever fucking looking at me.
He was right on the edge of losing control, and his face must have shown it.
“Hey, are you okay?” She closed her legs and began to stand up.
Faster than he should’ve moved, he was right in front of her, a smile creeping up on his face at her heart rate spiking when she was startled by his sudden movement.
He reached under her dress, almost hesitant, not knowing what the breaking point will be when he can’t hold back anymore.
Her thighs. Her fucking thighs. He focused on anything else in the room to keep his head from spinning. The soap. The towels hanging up. The faucet. He looked at all of the toiletries by the sink and with one swipe of his arm they were on the floor, and she was back on the counter.
“Do you think they heard that?” She asked, looking at the broken things on the floor now.
“You should be more worried about what they’re about to hear,” he said, grabbing her jaw and making her look at him.
She smiled in his grip, pleasantly unaware of just how far he was going to take this.
“And what are they about to hear?” She asked playfully as her hand wandered to his waist, creeping forward to his belt. She slowly worked on unbuckling it, dragging the suspense, not knowing how much worse she’s making it.
He groaned, and he swore to himself he would at least make it to the next step. Get her wanting it. Begging for it. Before he took it all away from her.
He slid his hand down to her throat, his thumb gently pressed against her jugular.
“Take my belt off,” he said, voice wavering.
Her fingers brushed the bulge straining against his pants and he bucked his hips forward slightly, chasing the touch of her.
“So eager,” she chided.
“Sweetheart,” he laced his words with venom. “If you knew what was good for you,” he brushed the hair out of her face. “You wouldn’t say another fucking word.”
“Oh yeah?” She slid the belt off and held it in her hands. “Maybe I don’t know what’s good for me.”
He bit his lip and resisted every urge to show her exactly why he was the worst thing that could’ve happened to her.
“I guess not,” he finally said. “You seem to have bad taste in men.”
She ran a free hand up to his neck, sliding up to the side of his face, the slight stubble soft against her touch. “Shut up.” She kissed his cheek, trailing her way down to the other side of his neck.
If she could see his face, she might have stopped.
She kissed his neck, leaving trails of her lipstick that were bold against his pale skin. She pressed into him further. Her breath, her tongue against him was almost taunting the most primal, primitive part of him. He leaned into her, wanting her to press harder.
She got the hint, and pushed back against him as the faintest beginnings of a growl worked up from his chest.
She worked her way up, and pressed her lips against his, and moved her thumb to his chin, making him open his mouth.
His lips parted, and she took the bottom one in between her teeth. He immediately tensed up, and a noise somewhere between pleasure and pain escaped his lips.
“Don’t,” he said quietly, almost a threat.
She flicked her tongue out, tasting his lip. His brows furrowed above his cold eyes, as the corners of his mouth twisted into a smile.
He pressed into her, and locked her into a kiss that she’s going to die for. His tongue danced around hers, trying desperately to taste every single inch of her while he still can. He pulled away, a disappointed moan leaving her mouth the second he did.
There was a war waging inside his head and he was about to lose it. He reached up behind her, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her head back.
His head was pounding, mouth salivating at the sight of her exposed throat. He could see her heart beating. He bent down, and found the self control to start on her right side. His lips touched her skin and he kissed her neck, opening his mouth to bite down innocently enough, tongue flicking out to taste her, leaving a trail of red marks as he made his way over to her left.
She moved her hips to grind against him, and he let out a hiss, the final crack in his mask that was barely hanging on.
He traced her jugular with his tongue, as he dug his fingers into the edge counter to avoid ripping her to shreds the second he sank down into her.
Her heart was racing. Maybe she knew something was wrong. He didn’t care.
With a soft click of his fangs he tried to hide by squeezing the counter enough to crack, he sank them into her, drinking from a crimson river that was made for him.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head the second the blood touched his tongue. She was screaming, or maybe she wasn’t. He barely felt her hands trying pathetically to push him away. All it did was make her taste that much better, he swore he could almost taste her fear.
It would make more sense to incapacitate her. Or to trick her into being willing, but he liked the fight. He liked toying with his prey.
He pulled himself off of her, completely capable of draining her right here but he had other plans for her.
He leaned back, locking his eyes onto hers as he felt her blood drip down his chin, dark against his pale skin, wiping it off with his fingers and licking the blood off.
She was completely silent, her hand flew to her wound, just barely trickling blood. She stared at the man before her, teeth stained red, and a lazy smirk on his face that terrified her more than anything.
She started hyperventilating, not able to process exactly what just happened.
“Oh shut up,” he said quietly, a darkness in his voice that terrified her. “Or don’t,” he said as he traced his fingers across her chest, smearing a bit of blood across it. “Make me have to shut you up, yeah?”
“Get the fuck off of me!” She got out of his grasp, and he let her as he laughed. She was at the door, and with speed she couldn’t process, he was suddenly standing between her and the door. She didn’t even blink, and he was there.
She screamed and stepped backwards. “What the fuck?” She looked at him and back at the counter, and back at him. “How the—”
“Everything you do is in slow motion,” he began. “There’s nothing you can do anymore,” he stepped towards her, and tilted his head, looking her up and down. “Nothing is going to stop me from what I’m about to do to you. But,” he put his head beside hers, stubble grazing her ear. “I’ll make sure you get some pleasure, sweetheart.”
Tears were running down her cheeks at his words and the realization she might never walk out of this bathroom. “You’re a fucking monster. Did you use some fucking mind tricks to get me in here?”
He was bent down towards her bite, licking the trickles of blood that were coming down. “If I did, you never would have struggled.” He pulled her hair again, to drag his teeth across her throat, not drawing blood but enough to threaten her. “I haven’t done shit to you, you’re just a fucking whore.”
She wanted to sob but nothing came out. She was frozen. There was no way out of here unless he let her. Someone from the party would surely hear or need to use the bathroom soon, right? She just had to bide her time until someone eventually walked by or knocked.
“On your knees,” he commanded.
She blinked, more tears running down her face. He reached a hand out and gently wiped them away, a smile creeping up on his face - showing his fangs - when she flinched. She slowly sank down to her knees, looking up at him through blurred eyes and ruined makeup.
“Do you know what vampire blood does to humans?” He asked simply, like he was asking her what time it was.
A pit formed deep in her stomach. “No,” she said, barely above a whisper.
He took his jacket off and hung it on the door behind him, and started rolling up his sleeves. “It has a very potent effect,” he continued as he folded them up neatly. “It's almost like a drug. Pain is nearly nonexistent and the senses are heightened.” He rolled them up just beneath his elbows, his forearms exposed. He was far more muscular than she thought. “And the best part,” he said quietly as he placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head up towards him. “Is that sex, whether you want it or not, will feel better than anything your pretty little head can imagine.”
He kept his finger under her chin to keep her looking at him as he lifted his other arm up to his face. “Close your eyes and I’ll make it that much worse for you.”
Her stomach dropped as he sunk his fangs into his own wrist. The sound his flesh made was gut-wrenching, his blood dripping down immediately made her sick.
He pulled off after a moment, the open wound worse than she imagined. “Please,” she begged as she sobbed. “Please don’t do this.”
“Beg me some more, I might change my mind,” he said as he angled his wrist in front of her face. His blood was dripping down her chest. She turned her head, trying to get away from him.
“Hah, don’t think I won’t snap your fucking neck right here and have my way with you anyways,” he grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her mouth on his wrist. She kept her mouth snapped shut, the warmth of his blood smearing along her face.
He groaned, losing his patience.
His blood didn’t smell like human blood. It was sweet - clouding her mind - almost intoxicating.
It terrified her.
She started hyperventilating, eliciting a response from him that didn’t help her calm down at all.
“If you don’t drink,” he began calmly. “I will bring your friends in here one by one and you won’t like what happens after that.” He shoved his wrist further in her face, her lips painfully pressed against her teeth. “Maybe I’ll start with Marion,” he didn’t relent on his pressure at all. “Have you ever watched someone get their throat ripped out?”
She sobbed and finally parted her lips, teeth meeting his flesh, his blood pouring into her mouth.
A long, drawn out moan rumbled within his chest the second her tongue flicked out. His eyes rolled into the back of his head.
The more she drank the worse everything got. She could taste every part of him - the deep recesses of his mind she never wanted to know about.
She could taste his power. How much he has to hold back from slitting her throat open. How he was full of bad intentions and had the darkness to carry every single one out.
She couldn’t tell if it was the blood creating a haze or not, but she swore she could almost feel his emotions, his feelings. Nothing in words - but colors. Intense colors of his thoughts, his intentions, crashing in waves over her body.
“Enough,” he snarled. He yanked his wrist back, and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her up like she was nothing. His blood was steadily dripping onto her chest.
“I gotta say,” he said as he looked at his blood all over her lips, and watched it flow onto her ivory skin. “Red looks good on you.”
“Get off of me, asshole,” she snapped at him.
“I’m going to get off,” he began as he reached his free hand under her dress, fingers digging under the waistband of her panties. “Maybe I’ll even do it inside you,” he started to pull them down. “I bet a whore like you would enjoy every last drop of it.”
She squeezed her thighs together, but it didn’t stop him at all. The soft flesh not doing anything to keep her panties on with the force of his hand.
He let her panties down far enough to let them fall to the ground, and he slid two fingers along his open wound, it was just starting to heal but a fresh wave of his blood flowed out at him digging at it. He opened his mouth slightly at the sensation, baring his fangs.
“No,” she felt a fresh wave of tears coat her cheeks when she realized what he was going to do. “No no no, stop !” She tried squirming away but it was useless.
“Can you feel it?” He moaned as he pushed her against the counter, trapping her. “Can you feel me ?”
That’s when it hit her. She was feeling him. His thoughts, every one of his desires. A wave of his sick pleasure rushed over her and her face distorted in disgust. “That’s what I thought,” he laughed. “Blood is intimate, you know.” He slid his bloody fingers underneath her dress. “I can feel you too,” she gasped at the contact, touching her clit immediately. “I can feel how you’re so afraid of enjoying this,” his mouth went to her neck, teeth scraping against her skin as he circled that little bundle of nerves. “You’re praying to whoever will listen that I won’t make you cum right here, right now.” His breath bristled against her skin, warm and sinful. “Nobody can fucking hear you.”
He slammed both fingers inside of her, laughing at the half moan, half scream that escaped her lips as her hands uselessly scratched at his arm, breaking skin that healed almost immediately.
She bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed, trying her absolute hardest to hide the fact that his touch feels better than anything she’s ever felt in her life. He noticed immediately, flicking his tongue out gently to lick it off of her lip.
He slid his fingers out, and went back to her clit, his fingers coated in his own blood and her shame. The second he touched it was almost like a jolt of electricity through her body, she practically flinched. She felt him coursing through her veins and she was ashamed at the fact she knew she would reach the climax she feared if he kept going.
“Please,” she choked out between quiet sobs. “Please let me go, I won’t tell anyone.”
His hand stopped moving inside of her, and his body was completely still for a moment, and he let out a terrifying laugh. “Do you think I’m letting you go when you feel this good?” His voice was dark, threatening.
He slid two fingers inside of her again, the pad of his thumb circling her clit, adding to the fire burning in her abdomen against her will at his touch. “So wet already,” he growled. “And so fucking warm.” He lifted her up slightly so she was sitting on the counter again, and she would never admit it but the new angle he hit inside of her was absolutely sinful. She hated how good it felt.
Her eyes were shut tight, but she felt him spread her legs more. There was no stopping him. She gripped the edge of the counter and refused to look at him.
She never saw him sink to his knees. But she felt his teeth sink into her inner thigh.
She snapped her neck looking at him, head between her legs at her thigh while his fingers were still knuckle deep inside of her.
The sting of his teeth was quickly replaced by pleasure, she felt him growl into her thigh as her heart pounded against her chest. His fingers curled inside of her as he drank his fill and kissed his way to her clit, mouth warm with her own blood as he circled the most sensitive part of her body with his tongue.
She never wanted this. She still doesn’t. But there’s a part of her that wants to tip over the edge, just to get something out of this nightmare.
“S-stop,” she begged as she practically sobbed. Her legs almost went numb, her vision blurred as the climax she never wanted crept up.
Her hands reached out to grab something for support, landing on the top of his head unintentionally. She pulled a handful of his hair, almost impossibly soft under her fingertips, and the growl that reverberated from deep within his chest into her core was the breaking point.
She felt tears run down the side of her face as the dam broke deep inside her.
The room was spinning, she couldn’t stifle the moans that escaped her lips as he pressed himself further, eager to taste every bit of her.
She couldn’t control the way her thighs gripped the sides of his head as she arched her back, hands clenched into fists and she tried her hardest - and failed - to wish away the waves of her climax crashing down onto him.
Her chest was heaving, sweat glistening on her skin as she rolled her hips further onto his face. With every thrust of his fingers, an obscene noise followed. She didn't know how much time went by before he was back on his feet, much too close to her.
She noticed he retracted his fangs. It was a strangely nice gesture, given the circumstances.
She realized she was shaking, probably a mix of what he just did and her fear for what he wants to do. She was on autopilot, and did the first thing her brain told her to do.
Which was to slap him as hard as she could.
He was caught off guard, his head lolling off to the side. Her hand burned, his skin still porcelain and seemingly untouched. Before she could wonder if his skin could flush or not, he tensed his jaw and slowly looked back at her, a look in his eyes that made her regret coming to this stupid fucking party.
He looked at her from under his hair, slightly disheveled from her grabbing it and the way his head jerked from the slap. His expression was terrifyingly neutral. She couldn’t tell if it pissed him off, or if he didn’t care.
He was made of stone. Sharp features accentuated by the soft bathroom lighting, and an angular face that was intimidating as it was handsome.
His hands gripped the edge of the counter on either side of her, and she glanced down just for a second, but had to do a double take. There was a crack, leading from his hands.
He gripped it harder, and the crack spread, a soft noise along with it.
Her stomach dropped. He was threatening her.
“Here I was, almost feeling bad for what I’m doing to you because of your fucking crying,” he began, the tail end of his sentence ending with clenched teeth. “Thought I would be nice and get you off first.” He came closer to her, his face less than an inch away from hers. “But then I remembered why I did this.”
He tilted his head, and she heard something in his neck crack.
“You’re nothing but a meal and a whore for me.” His hands gripped the counter tighter, the crack in it spreading. “I knew I could get you in here without even trying, more than eager to drop your panties for a man you just fucking met.” The words stung, pure venom in his voice.
“Is this too much for you?” With a soft click , he bared his fangs again. “Nothing tastes better to me than fear, your blood practically pouring into my mouth because of your heart trying to burst out of your chest.” He laughed. “Tell me what you really wanted.”
She sobbed - unable to speak - so he persisted further. “Did you want me to bend you over this counter? Maybe take you just like this?” His hands let go of the counter and went for his pants, unbuttoning them without ever looking away from her terrified face. “Which one is it?”
“Just fucking kill me,” she sobbed. “Please.”
He grabbed her face, fingers digging into her cheeks, hard enough for her teeth to cut into them. “Not yet,” he said, taunting her. “How did you imagine this?”
He tightened his grip slightly, causing a pained noise to escape her lips. “I just wanted to fucking make out,” she choked out.
“Oh, we’re lying now? Well then,” he flipped her around like she weighed nothing. “This won’t hurt.”
His hands harshly slid her dress up, and he looked at her in the mirror. He hesitated for a second, meeting her eyes. Her makeup was smeared, lip busted in the middle, blood all over her mouth and throat, tears still running down her cheeks.
She was hoping he was about to take pity on her over how awful she looked.
He wasn’t.
His hands were shaking, trying to restrain himself as they dug into the soft flesh of her hips, the warmth of her skin sending a fire through his entire body. He pressed in a little too hard, a yelp escaping from her lips.
There won’t be enough blood left in your body to leave a bruise when I’m done with you.
He squeezed harder, enjoying the pained noise she made all too much.
“So you wear this dress and expect just to make out?” He shook his head, and spread her feet apart with his own and she watched him bite his lip in the mirror at the sight. “At least you’re pretty.”
She scoffed and tried to close her legs back but his own were in the way.
His nostrils flared, and with a hand on her shoulder, he forced her to bend over the counter. He dragged his fingers across her back, tracing her spine.
I should rip it out of you.
“Fuck,” he said through clenched teeth. “Stop.”
She looked back at him, confused. His eyebrows were furrowed - eyes shut tight - like he was in pain.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught his other hand curling into a fist. Her heart rate spiked, fear coursing through her veins. She knew at least part of what was coming. But not entirely what he’s capable of. She squirmed against him, trying to break free one final time.
He snapped his head down and took her arm in his hand, pinning it to her back, any more pressure and it would break.
Her heartbeat rang in his head, blinded his vision, he could smell it. He could feel it everywhere he touched her.
“Calm down,” he said, voice wavering. He was fighting a battle he was losing.
Break it.
She let out a fresh sob.
Make her scream.
“If you don’t—” he paused and tilted his head, trying to look and think of anything that wasn’t her exposed cunt - the blood still coursing in her veins - trying to suppress every primal urge in his body.
I’ll tear you apart with my bare hands. Rip your fucking heart out. Nobody will recognize your body. You’ll be mine and mine alone. Forever.
“You know,” he began, his voice hoarse. “I am seconds away from ripping your jugular out just to get your heartbeat to stop pounding in my head,” he reached his free hand out to trace it, still shaking. His hand wrapped around her throat - not squeezing - just holding onto it. “I bet it would leave a nice hole for me to fuck.”
She was completely stunned, frozen in fear.
He let go of her arm and she immediately brought it to her chest - undoubtedly in pain - but not a single noise escaped her lips.
His hands went to her hips, and he pressed his own forward and groaned. It was the first time she’s felt him , he was careful to avoid her like this until he regained control.
“You’re a monster,” she said quietly.
“Oh, I know what I am,” he said with a laugh. “Do you know what you are?”
He let go of her to pull himself out of the constraints of his pants, another almost pained groan when he was free.
“You’re a whore who's about to learn her fucking place,” he took a hand and stroked himself, rubbing the dripping precum down his length. “And that place is right here—” he interrupted himself when the tip pressed against her. A string of curses flew out from under his breath as he pulled away and grabbed the base of his cock, the last sliver of self control escaping him.
He gripped the counter as he hunched forward, the surface protesting under his strength. “Fuck you,” he said through clenched teeth. “Fuck you and the way you smell so fucking good,” he slowly guided the tip between her folds and let out a pained sigh. “And how you taste so good,” his voice was quiet, and trembling as he slid the tip of himself up and down her entire slit, watching the way her wetness glistened on him. How his blood was still on her folds, like she was made for him whether she wanted it or not.
Ruin her.
He gripped the counter harder, loudly straining under his force.
Show her what she’s done to you.
He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was disheveled, all the kindness and warmth left his eyes. There was nothing left but the monster inside of him, his humanity reduced to ashes.
What are you waiting for?
He plunged inside of her all the way, almost snarling at the way she felt wrapped around his cock.
She’s too fucking warm. She’s too fucking tight.
He heard something resembling a scream.
He pulled out slowly, watching the way she gripped him, his entire length glistening with her wetness and blood, impossible to tell whose.
His head was pounding. He wanted every part of her, all at once. It would never be enough.
She has to die.
He buried himself inside of her, a moan escaping his chest through clenched teeth.
She was sobbing, her mouth was moving. Was she begging? He couldn’t hear anything over her fucking heartbeat. The way he can feel it inside of her. Pounding against the darkest part of him, taunting him.
Break through her rib cage.
The hand that was gripping the counter formed into a fist.
Let it out.
He looked down at the victim underneath him, currently impaled on his cock, scared still besides her frantic breathing. He knew this image of her completely broken would never leave his mind, and he fucking hated it. He would spend forever trying to forget the way she tasted, the way she felt.
He looked forward one more time, his fist flying into the mirror, shattering it, the pieces flying everywhere. His knuckles dripped blood onto her, painting her skin her perfect shade of red.
All it did was make it that much worse.
He placed his hands into her hips once more, her skin almost burning him. A fire he couldn’t wait to put out. He dug his nails in, baring his teeth when he drew blood.
He pulled her back onto his cock, almost savoring the way she’s having to painfully stretch around him. He stood completely still as he pulled and pushed her, a pace controlled by his hands and willpower alone.
And that’s when he felt it.
She practically pulsated around him. His cock glistened with fresh waves of her wetness, throbbing even more the further inside of her he went. All he could hear was the obscene noises of her dripping cunt, and something in his brain completely snapped.
He saw red as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her up. “Do you think you’ll get away with that?”
“I never wanted this—” she sobbed.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me,” he pulled her hair further, pressing her back to his chest. “I seem to remember you were the one coming on to me , whore.”
His free hand ripped her dress like it was nothing, the straps falling down her shoulders as her chest was exposed in the few shards of mirror that were left.
“You can flirt but you can’t take what happens after,” he hissed as he grabbed the biggest shard from the sink and pressed it into her chest, over her heart. “Should’ve flirted with anyone else,” he pressed in gently, a single trickle of blood running down. “Actually I still would have had you. Maybe I would have followed you home after the party. You smell too fucking good. Every flip of your goddamn hair, every time you brushed against my arm I—” he stopped himself, and she felt a growl in his chest. “You’re lucky I didn’t do this in front of all your fucking friends. Only you get to see me like this, sweetheart.”
He threw the shard away and his hand was around her neck just as fast. He pulled his hips back, eyes rolling in the back of his head at how fucking good her cunt felt.
He was slowly slipping away. Every roll of his hips was getting him closer to stepping off the edge, further and further away from his last shred of decency.
His thrusts were getting erratic, his pacing desperate. He didn’t know how much time passed by, he didn’t even realize his mouth was on her neck, tongue tracing her jugular.
Tear it out.
He pressed his fangs against her skin, hesitating. There’s no going back. He wasn’t going to let go.
Her chest was still, she was holding her breath.
She was afraid. She was so afraid he could fucking taste it. He could smell it. It’s on her skin. It’s dripping from between her legs.
He pressed a bit further, fangs indenting her skin but not enough to break yet.
She let out a panicked noise, somewhere between a moan and a sob. Her fear. She sounded so fucking scared, he couldn’t stand it. It turned him on more than anything.
It lit his skin on fire. Every part of her touching him was a sweet torture, worth every fucking second he suffered up to this. Pretending he wasn’t the monster she let loose by coming here, looking his way.
He sunk his teeth in and his world exploded. He could hear her blood, smell her fear, and feel her body begging him to show mercy.
The only mercy he was going to show her was he was going to keep her intact. Full of holes, but intact. She was too pretty to tear her limbs off. But God, he wanted to. It was too easy. Too fast. He wanted to savor her. Completely break her. Fuck her into submitting to him.
He felt her scream, but all he could focus his hearing on was her pulse. Setting the rhythm for how he fucked her - holding back as long as he could - knowing he wasn’t going to be able to stop it for much longer.
He wanted to last until she didn’t.
He flicked his tongue out, lapping up every drop of blood he possibly could. It was euphoric. The thought alone of draining her pushed him right to the edge of a fate he knows he can never come back from. He would have to keep doing this. Nothing and no one would ever compare to this moment.
He couldn’t just fuck anymore. He couldn’t just feed. He needed to feel this. The fear. The self control and release, separated by the thinnest fucking line, if there even was one.
He moaned into her neck, the metallic warmth on her skin tasting like he’s never felt pleasure a day in his life. He could have reached his peak from her blood alone. But he needed every single part of her. He needed to know how she felt from the inside, he needed to feel her grip on the most primal part of him. He was starved before her and never even knew it. She couldn’t live. She couldn’t walk out of here. Everything about her made him weak, clouded every sense until all he felt was her.
Her pulse started to slow. It took every bit of self restraint he had to not completely ruin her the second he felt it.
Her dying breath. He waited all his life. He could make it.
He sunk his teeth further and drank deeper to the point his other teeth were digging into her flesh.
He could fucking eat her alive.
Everyone downstairs could burst into the bathroom right now and he would be incapable of stopping. He doesn’t know how loud either of them are, or how much time has gone by. He doesn’t care, he’s in too deep. Deep in every way he could be inside of her short of tearing her beating heart out. The only form of time anymore is her pulse thats reverberating through every fucking cell in his body.
He was lost completely in the flow of her blood when a noise snapped him back to reality.
A moan.
Fuck.
Her breathing was fast, shallow.
No no no. Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare.
“Leon,” she breathed out. “God, I—” Her voice trailed off into the most delicious moan he’s ever heard in his fucking life.
Oh God. Don’t.
He realized that was the first time she spoke his name, and it was the filthiest thing she could have said to him. He was a sin on her lips - he needed it. Craved it.
Her pulse was slowing, but not fast enough.
“Say it again,” he pulled away from her just enough to speak. “Say my name.”
Another sound of pleasure escaped her lips as she started to clench and spasm around him. She moaned his name, over and over.
The snarl that erupted from his chest was years of pent up anger and lust. All of his monstrous feelings embodied, to be let out on her fucking cunt. He sunk his teeth even further than before, stopping himself from ripping her entire throat out.
He tried to stay still, to will his own climax away but hers was too much. Too tight. Too intense.
One last thrust and he was gone.
He gripped what was left of the counter, knuckles white. It felt like the ground shook beneath his feet as his cock twitched inside of her. He’s hanging on by a single thread.
Her pulse slowed to a crawl and that was all he needed. She had mere moments left.
He felt like he was on fire. Alive for the first time in years as she took him completely over. He pressed into her as far as he could possibly go, her walls still struggling to take every inch of him.
He felt himself swell inside of her, his entire body convulsed. He saw stars, entire galaxies and universes as he felt himself tip over the edge.
He’s never came so much. He’s never felt as good as he does right here at this moment - buried inside of her tight pussy as far as he can go - his cum dripping down her thighs as fast as he shot it out.
He opened his eyes, and saw her face in one of the remaining shards of mirror. Her eyelids were heavy, fluttering. The sight sent another wave of sin to his very core, he thought he was never going to stop. She was slowly growing limp, he had to hold her as he fucked her into the next life.
She caught his gaze at that moment too.
He looked entirely different. Not the Leon she met just an hour ago, who was laughing and flirting back.
His eyes were red. Crimson like the river he’s been drinking from her neck. He’s nothing but a predator and she was the prey who brought out the worst in him.
He was a primal being, a force of nature. She was doomed from the start.
Her pulse slowed down further, any moment could be her last and he memorized every single beat of her heart, every tiny noise she made.
One last breath, and it belonged to him now. A cold trophy of his hunt, lifeless in his arms.
A single tear rolled down her cheek as the room went dark, her body felt weightless. There was nothing left of her, nothing left to worry about. It was over.