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A howl cuts through the silence of night.
But it does not belong to an ordinary wolf. If it was, a chill would not be running down Hans’s spine, nor would his fangs extend on instinct the way they usually do when a threat is near. Yet, the cause of this is not fear, but instead a hatred that has existed for generations and bloodlines.
No, what has trespassed into his territory is the ancient enemy of his kind - a werewolf.
And he’s almost certain he knows who it is.
The signs all coincide with the appearance of a new blacksmith in town. A handsome, dark-haired fellow who showed up out of the blue one day and set up shop several months ago. As lord of the town, Hans had paid him a visit and upon first glance, he seemed decent enough - though his strong build and charming demeanour were not lost on him. But as easy on the eyes as he was, Hans had a feeling in his gut that not all was as it seemed. Out of all the places in this vast kingdom, why would he come here?
They are not isolated by any means, having healthy trade with neighbouring towns and cities. Despite this, the town has a dark secret: its lord, Sir Hans Capon, is a vampire, a fact only known by his closest servants who he paid very handsomely to keep their mouths shut. There were rumours amongst the other townspeople of course, but they could never verify any of them, especially not when Hans had procured a charm that allowed him to walk in daylight for extended periods of time, or when he would simply pretend to be a descendant of himself as the decades passed, the easiest excuse as to why he never ages.
Though there are obvious inconsistencies, the townspeople do not question them for he is the town’s protector, keeping it safe from anything that might bring them harm. Neither does he feed on them, only drinking the blood of criminals and bandits who would not be missed. In the event that there are none available, he would only drink enough from random townsfolk to sustain himself, never to the point that it would kill them.
He might be a vampire, but he does have standards.
And part of those standards is protecting the town from anyone who might disturb the peace.
This is what leads to now, as he stocks his quiver with silver-tipped arrows and straps his silver dagger to his belt, on the other side of which he has a coiled length of rope that has been soaked in wolfsbane. Items he’s had to acquire; never in his hundred odd years of life has he ever had to hunt down a werewolf, so he’s had to learn quickly. Ever since the first howl and the first sighting of a large beast in the night, he’s been doing his research, working especially hard after the first two months where he was woefully unprepared, left stumbling around the dark forest trying to track down this beast in a manner unbecoming of a vampire lord such as himself.
Tonight will not be like that.
He steps out into the light of the full moon, and heads in the direction of the howl.
Using the reports given to him by the gamekeeper, he’s finally managed to narrow down the area where the werewolf frequents. It’s strange though; only sightings and signs of unnatural destruction, but never any carnage - no dead livestock, and fortunately no dead townspeople. There was a brief moment where Hans did consider that this werewolf meant no harm, but such a thought was quickly dismissed. A werewolf that did not hurt humans could still very likely hurt a vampire, and Hans absolutely did not want to risk that.
Resolute, he enters the forest with cautious steps, making his way to a rocky outcrop. He sets up there, pulling out his bow and grabbing an arrow. A coward’s weapon it might be, but if he can get rid of the werewolf without putting himself directly in harm’s way, all the better.
An hour passes. A second, then a third. His ears pick up the occasional snap of a twig or the rustle of the grass, but these are merely caused by the local wildlife, not an unholy beast. He tries not to let his attention waver, but even an immortal being such as himself can only hold his focus on nothing for so long. Yet, he knows this is the spot. The bastard must be hiding .
Just as he’s thinking about how he should have drunk some blood before coming out here, he catches sight of something from the corner of his eye, a shadow dashing through a group of trees.
He turns. Watches. A hulking figure that comes to a stop.
Drawing his bow, he aims.
Deep breath in. Out.
He lets go.
The arrow flies, right towards the target, but at the very last second, the werewolf moves. Fucker must have heard it.
But not fast enough. The arrow manages to hit it, but not somewhere fatal. Still, a howl of pain leaves his now injured foe. Two glowing blue eyes find him in the darkness. Silence, as two ancient enemies stare at each other across the distance, both weighing their options.
Then, before Hans can nock another arrow, the beast charges towards him.
It is fast, but he is faster. Putting away his bow, he pulls out his dagger and dashes out of the way just in time, the werewolf barrelling past him. They come to a stop at opposite ends of the clearing, and finally, Hans gets a good look at who he’s been chasing after all these months.
Almost two times the size of a regular wolf, this monster is pure muscle and raw power wrapped in thick brown fur. Lips curled back in a snarl, two rows of sharp white teeth are bared, a low growl rumbling out between them. The shaft of the arrow sticks out from its back, right around the left shoulder.
Staring into those intense blue eyes, a thrill runs down Hans’s spine. “Hello there. I see that I managed to hit you. It’s a silver arrow, but I think you already know that.” It’s almost imperceptible, but he can tell that the beast is trying not to put pressure on its front left paw. “Before this gets any worse for you, why not just run along and leave this place? After all, it was your own terrible foolishness that led to you trespassing into my territory.”
The growl only gets louder, the snarl more vicious. The beast stands its ground.
“Very well then. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.” Hans tightens his grip on the dagger. “Do know that I cannot allow you to live. This town is mine, and I will not let it fall into your filthy paws.”
This sets it off. The werewolf lunges at him without warning. He’s able to duck away from that drooling maw, but he’s too taken by surprise to avoid the beast completely, its claws cutting into his right shoulder.
“Kurva!” Hans hisses. He glimpses down briefly to see the fabric of his shirt torn, with angry gashes pouring deep red blood soaking his skin and clothes. Now he’s pissed off. It’s been decades since anyone has been able to hurt him, much less draw blood; he’s not about to let a werewolf of all things be his downfall. “You’re going to pay for that.”
It’s his turn to go on the offensive, striking forward with both his own extended claw-like nails and his dagger. The former misses, but the latter makes contact, slicing across the werewolf’s flank. A wail-howl of guttural pain comes roaring out right next to his ear, and for a split second, he almost feels bad for doing this.
But then the werewolf swipes furiously at him again, managing to catch him on the arm, causing him to involuntarily drop the dagger and send it skittering away. Any guilt disappears right after that.
He staggers, but so does the beast. It might have raw strength, but what he lacks in that he more than makes up for with speed. Using this opportunity, he darts over and reaches for the shaft of the arrow still stuck in the werewolf's shoulder and jams it further in. Another cry, too human.
No. No pity.
The werewolf stumbles, and Hans quickly pulls out the rope to start tying it up. The werewolf yowls at the wolfsbane burning its skin, thrashing so wildly that Hans is using every ounce of supernatural strength he has to hold the rope tight. Thankfully, it has been greatly weakened by the arrow and its wounds.
“You’re good,” Hans says panting, watching with sadistic glee as the werewolf slowly submits to its fate. “But not good enough.”
With one final secure knot, he has the werewolf fully bound. At this point, it’s so beaten and bloody that it just collapses onto the ground. Certain that it won’t be going anyway, Hans retrieves his dagger with the full intention of plunging it into the werewolf’s heart and getting rid of this monster once and for all.
But when he returns, he finds those unnaturally bright blue eyes staring up at him. Tired. Fearful. Defiant.
It’s this last thing that causes Hans to pause. Here is this wounded and bound beast, having so clearly been defeated by its better, on the verge of being (rightfully) slaughtered, and yet… still so unwilling to give up.
Hans has never faced such a worthy opponent before, so it’s no surprise that he finds himself thoroughly intrigued by this creature before him. He comes to the realisation that he likely won’t ever get such a chance to study a werewolf, much less one this strong, up close again. A small part of him warns him that he is being foolishly hubristic, but he ignores it, putting his dagger away. He’s already proven that he’s the better fighter, so if it dares to fight back, he can just end its life for good once he’s gotten what he wants out of it.
So, he starts dragging the werewolf back to his castle. (He would carry it, but he doesn’t want to get the smell of this mangy mutt all over him). The beast makes a noise of confusion, and Hans responds derisively, “You’re lucky that I have some questions I want answered.”
It growls indignantly, and he just tugs harder on the ropes. “Shut it, mongrel. You should be grateful that I didn’t kill you. I still might, but that will depend on how well you behave, understood?”
Another sound, but one more out of pain. Eventually, it goes silent, and Hans figures that it must have fallen unconscious. Ah, another thing to deal with. No matter, he has a rich supply of healing poultices that has been built up after many years of studying alchemy, though he’s not too sure how well they might work on a werewolf.
Ugh, am I actually thinking of caring for a werewolf? He shudders. But when he looks over his shoulder at the beast, he has a change of mind. Hmm, I guess it won’t be so bad. After all, I could use some entertainment.
And call it vampire instincts, but he knows that he’s in for a very insightful night.
~
As he nears his castle, the weight that he has been dragging along suddenly lessens. When he turns around, he discovers that the beast has shifted back into its human form, revealing that it is indeed the blacksmith.
Suspicions confirmed, all that’s left to do is to question him to figure out the truth.
Upon reaching the castle gates, he quickly calls out to his servants to get the man cleaned up. “Do we throw him into the jail, Sir?” asks one of the guards, and he is about to say yes when his eyes do another sweep of the blacksmith. He already knows the man has a handsome face, but there is an incredibly attractive body to match, with the wounds and dirt doing little to mar his physique.
Filthy ideas already popping into his mind, he waves the guard off. “No. Once you’re done, bring him to my chambers.”
The servants nod without further question, already well aware of their lord’s voracious sexual appetite. Though there are a few looks exchanged about this sudden appearance of a tied-up blacksmith, no one says anything.
While he waits, he returns to his room first, cleaning himself up and changing into fresh clothes. He takes a moment to check his wounds, which are thankfully already healing up, though they’re taking longer than usual. Must be the fact that they were caused by a werewolf, he realises, with any wounds left behind leaving faint scars rather than just fading away completely.
He clicks his tongue in annoyance. Another reason why he hates to get his hand dirty with such a feral beast.
Just as pours himself a glass of blood, there’s a knock on the door. He doesn’t bother turning around, simply giving out instructions when it opens. “Leave him on the bed. Chain his wrists to the posts.”
A few murmured “yes, sir”s, followed by the rustling of feet and sheets. Hans continues sipping on his blood and staring out the window as his servants silently and obediently carry out their orders. Waiting patiently, he wonders if they have any idea that who they’re moving is no mere blacksmith but a fearsome werewolf. They would be terrified if they found out, but who knows? They’re working for a vampire lord, so maybe their perception of what is scary has long since been skewed.
Regardless, when they are done, they stand off to the side, waiting for their work to be inspected. Hans does, but he’s quickly distracted by this delicious sight laid out in front of him. The blacksmith, still unconscious, is spread out on his bed, naked body on full display.
Werewolf this man might be, but Hans cannot deny the allure, finding himself inexplicably drawn in.
He dismisses the servants with a wave of a hand. “Leave us. And no one is to disturb me for any reason whatsoever.” With nods and bows, they shuffle out. He locks the door with a flick of his wrist, then returns to the foot of his bed. It’s only a matter of time before the blacksmith wakes up, so while he waits, he sips on his blood as he observes.
The blacksmith’s human form is less hairy than expected, though he still has a nice covering of body hair, with Hans drawn particularly to the trail of dark hair that starts from his chest, down his abs and ends at his crotch, eyes forced to focus on the man’s cock.
I wonder what that will look like when it’s hard, he thinks. But that will come in time, so he tears his gaze away, now turning his attention to the smattering of scars the man has all over his body. Aside from the fresh ones from their fight earlier, there are several burn marks on his arms, clearly ones caused by accidents or carelessness at the forge. Beyond those, however, are scars of varying ages, each one a story of another battle won, of surviving yet another day.
How did he get them? Defending himself against humans wanting to kill him? Fighting other werewolves? Other vampires? All these questions and more run through Hans’s mind.
Thoroughly curious, Hans finally glances at the blacksmith’s face, perhaps the only part of him that remains unblemished. He looks young, likely only a few years older than his own eternal age. He can’t help but wonder: who are you, exactly?
And right on time, the blacksmith releases a groan of pain as his eyelids flutter open.
“Ah, finally.” Hans takes another sip, preparing himself for this interrogation.
Blue eyes immediately take on an edge of aggression as the blacksmith takes stock of his current situation. Once he gains enough awareness, he tugs at his binds fruitlessly, after which Hans tuts loudly, drawing his attention. “Indescructible, I’m afraid. Not even a beast like you can break them.”
He tugs on them again regardless, lips curled into a snarl. “What the hell do you want with me?”
“First off, I want answers.” Hans stands firmly, unintimidated. “Why are you here, you mangy wolf?”
“I have a name, you know.”
“Oh? And what, pray tell, is it?”
The man rolls his eyes at the overt condescension. “It’s Henry.”
“What a human name for an animal,” Hans says, earning him a deadly glare. “Tell me then, Henry: what compelled you to trespass into my domain?”
“Your domain? I’m only here because I was told that the people of this town are under the oppressive control of an accursed vampire. I’ve been spending the past few months surveying your castle, finding out the best way to reclaim it from you without putting the townsfolk in any danger.”
Hans barks out a laugh. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been the lord of this town for decades now. It has flourished because of my care and protection. If it hadn’t, do you think you would have been able to set up your forge just like that?” And as patronisingly as he can, he asks, eyebrow raised, “Even if I was a tyrannical ruler, what did you think you were going to achieve? Did you picture yourself running in like some heroic knight to take down the evil vampire overlord? Have you even killed a vampire before?”
Henry’s face falls, a look of embarrassment crossing his eyes. Hans scoffs when he realises he’s hit a sore spot. “So how in the world did you ever think you were going to take me on?”
He expects silence. He expects even more shame. What he certainly doesn’t expect is a retort of “You seem far too young and inexperienced to be a vampire lord.”
“You insolent wretch. I will have you know that I’ve been alive for over a century,” Hans spits. He puts his wine glass aside, not wanting to ruin a perfectly good piece of glassware from crushing it out of anger. “And this ‘young’ lord just beat you in a fight, so who’s really the inexperienced one out of the two of us, you mutt?”
“But that was because you had silver weapons. Without them, you would lose ten times out of ten,” Henry says with a confidence that irks him even more.
He is clearly being baited, but he falls for it anyway, unwilling to back down from such a challenge. “Look at where we are now. No weapons, and you’re tied up. One bite into your neck and I could drink you dry in seconds.”
“You think you can take me?” An annoyingly attractive smirk tugs at Henry’s lips. “Then unchain me. Let’s go a few rounds.”
As tempting as the idea is of putting this frustrating man in his rightful place, Hans resists. “We could, but I have a better idea,” he says instead, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and directing a heated gaze towards his captive. “I’ll let you go, but only if you satisfy me with your body.”
The smugness drops from Henry’s face in an instant. “What?”
“I’ve seen the way you look at me whenever I stop by the town. Every time I walk past your forge your eyes always follow, and you seem particularly interested in my behind.” While he initially thought that Henry was staring at him the way a hunter stalks its target, he now realises that the stares were more appreciative in nature, admiring rather than tracking. Not only that, but in the few times he glanced back, he would find an undeniable want in those blue eyes.
And it wasn’t just Henry’s eyes that Hans was fixated on. “I’ve been watching you too,” Hans says. Beyond his original investigations into the identity of the werewolf, his interest in Henry grew for several other reasons. The apron straps slung across broad shoulders, the flex of his arms as he brings down a hammer, the curve of his arse whenever he bends down to grab something from his chest. Despite the innate repulsion brought about by his vampiric nature, the attraction he feels towards the man far supersedes all of it. “And seeing how this is mutual, why pretend and beat around the bush when we can simply act upon it?”
A conflict of emotions fills Henry’s expression, very likely the same kind Hans has experienced between disgust and desire. Henry’s mouth opens and closes a few times, eventually just saying “I…” before trailing off.
“It will be a great deal for us both.” Hans walks his fingers up Henry’s left calf and thigh, moving them along the firm muscles he finds there. “I will get a rather educational night of pleasure while you will not only escape with your life but also with the honour of having bedded a vampire. Overall, a fun time for all with no need for bloodshed. What do you say?”
Henry shudders, radiating out from where Hans fingers are touching him to the rest of his body. His eyes grow dark, and his cock gives an interested twitch, neither of which goes unnoticed by Hans. Relishing such a reaction, he then scratches his nails down Henry’s thigh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to leave long red lines. Enough to elicit another full-body shiver from the man.
Henry swallows thickly. “What if I don’t… ‘satisfy’ you? Will you still let me go?”
“Of course. I’m not the monster you think I am, though I will kick you out of town with the warning that if you should ever return, I will not show you the same generosity. However…” He moves his hand up to Henry’s hipbone, getting his fingers teasingly close to the man’s prick, which - much to his delight - has already become half erect. “Seeing what you have here, I’m sure you’ll satisfy me just fine.”
Henry begins fidgeting as he releases a shaky breath. His expression is one of pure arousal now, but there are just the last vestiges of hesitation and hostility left holding him back.
Starting to feel uncomfortable in his own pants, Hans wants nothing more than to break down this final resistance.
“I know you want me. And you can have me… you just need to say yes.” Hans leans in. There’s no need to use his vampiric compulsion; his natural charisma has seduced Henry enough. All he needs now is to seal the deal. “Do you want to fuck me, wolf?”
Two pairs of blue eyes stare at each other. A beat passes. Then, with voice low, rough, Henry growls, “Yes.”
“Good dog,” Hans purrs, and to reward Henry accordingly, he finally wraps his hand around his cock.
Henry’s gasp at the contact quickly turns into a moan as Hans starts stroking him to full hardness. Though the chains clink and rattle as Henry strains against them, Hans is in no rush, languid in the movement of his hand. “I was originally thinking of being the one to take you, but seeing, having this glorious thing in my hand, there’s nothing more I want than to feel it inside me.”
A grunt rumbles out of the back of Henry’s throat, one of raw want. It is a delightful noise, and Hans gives a nice twist of his fist to hear it again. When he does, he asks, “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
A fervent nod, a furrowed brow, blue eyes blazing. Hans wonders how long it’s been for the man, seeing how he’s been reduced to speechlessness after being so mouthy just mere moments ago. Being the benevolent lord that he is, he does not want to keep the poor man waiting, werewolf though he might be. (And perhaps, he’s not willing to wait any longer himself).
“But the night would be over far too soon if I just give in to your desires, would it not? I would be left deeply unsatisfied if so, and you know what the consequences of that are. However… there is something we could do first that I think you’ll like.” He lies down, getting into a comfortable position between Henry’s legs. With a lick of his lips, he takes Henry’s cock into his mouth, all the way down to the base.
“Fuck!” Henry cries out, accompanied by the loud clank of the chains. Both are music to Hans’s ears, adding to his enjoyment of the thick meaty weight stretching his lips and sliding over his tongue. There’s the saltiness of pre-cum too, the taste of which makes him grow heady with arousal. Not wanting to get too lost in the sensations just yet, he pulls away momentarily. Holding it with a firm hand, he licks up and down Henry’s shaft, tongue pressed flat along the velvety underside of it, staring up at Henry the entire time.
Henry doesn’t look away, eyes now fully blown with lust. He tugs on the chains again, but they are going nowhere. Breathing heavily, he groans, “You…”
“What? Afraid that I might bite your prick off?” Hans asks teasingly, flashing one of his fangs. “You don’t need to worry about that. Besides, if I did bite it off, you wouldn’t be able to fuck me with it.”
Henry bucks his hips up in response, but Hans is quick to hold him down - one hand goes to his hip, the other to his knee. “What an impatient beast. I haven’t had my fill yet.”
With that, he takes Henry back into his mouth, this time hollowing his cheeks, bobbing his head up and down around what is probably the best cock he’s tasted in a very long time. The heat, the girth of it as it fills his mouth, hits his throat… no words can truly describe how simply incredible it all feels.
Are all werewolves so well-endowed, he briefly wonders, or do I just have fantastic luck?
At first, there was this miniscule voice in the back of his head, revolted by the thought of having this filthy savage even touching him, much less inside him. Now, he no longer hears it, drowned out and completely shut down. Man or monster, it does not matter. All he cares about is the cock he’s sucking and the moans of the man who the cock belongs to.
While he is wholly focused on the former, it’s the latter that he keeps an ear out for, cluing him in on how Henry is doing. The man has gotten louder; still being held down, he has no way to express his desire other than to do so vocally. With a quick glance, Hans also notices that the area around Henry’s wrists are red as he continues straining against the chains which are now pulled fully taut. If he was released, would his hands go straight to Hans’s head and hold him down so that he could fuck up into his mouth? It’s an obscene image, one that causes Hans to involuntarily moan around Henry’s cock.
The vibrations cause Henry to whimper, and it’s this that Hans realises is a sign that Henry is close. And while he would very much like to know what it’s like to have Henry come down his throat, he would rather experience that… someplace else .
So, he goes down one more time, all the way until he has his nose buried in the dark hair at the base of Henry’s cock. A scent, a musk of smoke and pine. Earthy. He breathes it in as he swallows around Henry, hearing the erotic moan this draws out of him. Then, before it becomes too much for either of them, he pulls off with a loud and deliberate pop.
With a wink, he lewdly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before hopping off the bed, walking over to his bedside table where he has stowed a flask of oil. He leaves it on the edge of the bed, and knowing, feeling Henry’s eyes trained on him, he then takes his time to remove his pants and braies. As for his pourpoint, he unbuttons it but leaves it to give Henry a teasing glimpse of his body.
Once done, he returns to the bed, climbing up and straddling Henry’s lap. After giving his own cock a few firm strokes to relieve some of the tension, he reaches for the flask, pouring some oil onto his fingers. Suddenly, a question comes to mind. “Have you ever been with a man?”
“Once,” Henry says, and when Hans does not reply, he understands the implicit request to elaborate. “A human knight of a distant estate. It was after a party. We snuck off for the night.”
“Did you know him?”
“Not really. I knew his name and a bit of his past, but we had only met a few days prior.”
“What did the two of you get up to? Something like this?” With his oil-coated hand, Hans reaches behind and slowly, he presses two fingers into himself. Sighing at the intrusion, he sees Henry watching him with hungry and awestruck eyes. “Did you do this to him? Him to you?”
“Both,” Henry says, the word leaving as a breath. “He guided me. I took him first, then he took me.”
“Well, aren’t you adventurous?” Hans grins, though he interrupts himself with a gasp as he reaches a steady rhythm with his hand. “I must say that I’m relieved that you’re not completely inexperienced, though I’m now left wondering how those fingers of yours would feel stretching me open.”
Balling his hands into fists, Henry pulls on the chains again. “Why don’t you release me so we can find out?”
“Hmm, maybe later. For now…” He grabs Henry’s chin with his free hand, holding it so the man can only look right at him. “Shut up and watch as I get myself ready for you.”
And watch him he does, those dark eyes focused solely on him. Even though he asked for this, Hans is finding the intensity of it almost too much, starting to get breathless as he pumps his fingers in and out. When he adds a third, his whole body twitches, causing him to shift downwards a little. Perfectly on time, Henry bucks his hips up too, his erect and spit-slick cock rubbing against the cleft of Hans’s arse.
Instantly, both of them react to the contact, Henry grunting while Hans shudders. But Hans does not relent just yet, continuing to work himself open while the hand that was holding Henry’s face now goes behind too, returning to Henry’s cock to slowly stroke it.
Henry throws his head back in frustration. “Now you’re just torturing me.”
“You were searching for an evil vampire, weren’t you?” Hans asks, surprising himself with how steady his voice is considering the circumstances. “I’m giving you what you want.”
“I’m not going to last much longer if you keep this up,” Henry groans, but before Hans can say anything else, he cuts him off. “And I don’t think you want my seed to go to waste when it can be inside you.”
“Oh my, this wolf’s got a wicked tongue on him,” Hans teases, thoroughly aroused by the filth leaving Henry’s mouth. “But you’re right. I wouldn’t.”
So, he finally removes his fingers, and holding Henry’s cock firmly, guides it to his hole. Then, with an inhale of anticipation, he lowers himself down. He moans at the stretch of the blunt head breaching him, but he does not stop, not until he’s sunk all the way down and taken every inch inside him.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Hans sighs in pure bliss. “It feels even bigger inside me.”
These words only extend the moan leaving Henry’s mouth, low and guttural. A lovely sound, one that Hans soaks right up, letting it pour over his entire being.
After giving himself several seconds of basking in the man’s desire for him while letting himself get used to the stretch, he reaches forward to brace his arms on Henry’s pecs and makes sure his knees are firmly placed on the mattress. Only then does he start moving. Lifting himself up then down, undulating his hips as he rides that magnificent cock. And to really rile Henry up, he uses his years of experience to angle himself to show off the lines and muscles of his body, even throws his head back as he lets his own noises of pleasure escape his lips to make himself truly captivating.
He succeeds - of course he does - because when he looks back down, he finds blue eyes that have gone fully dark with hunger. The chains are tugged straight now, with Henry pulling on them so hard that it seems like the bedposts will give way before they do.
The possibility of that happening sends a flash of heat right through Hans. This beast that he has tied up under him, the likelihood of it escaping and seeking revenge for its capture, for being used in such a vulgar manner… it only makes him more aroused. Yes, Henry is clearly attracted to him, but there is no guarantee that he won’t retaliate once he’s released.
He is no longer flirting with danger; he is outright fucking it - or more precisely, he is being fucked by it.
But as an immortal vampire, to hell with the consequences.
He leans forward slightly, frotting against Henry’s abs with every downward thrust of his hips. “How does it feel inside me?”
“Christ , I-” Henry’s words turn into a growl. The veins in his arms pop from the strain. There’s a wildness to his eyes, a desperation in the blue. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “You feel so fucking good.”
“What about that knight you spoke of? Did he take your cock as well as I am right now?” Hans asks, a sudden urge rising within him to compete - and win - against this stranger. "A regular mortal must have had problems fitting this big thing inside him, no?"
He can see the gears in Henry’s head working away, the man struggling to recall the memory amidst the stimulation and comment on his size. “He managed to take all of me, though it took some effort and a lot of preparation. Even then, it was nothing like this. This- you are so much better, Hans.”
Though Hans does preen at the praise, he is not distracted. “Do you think yourself worthy enough to use only my first name?” Hans asks disdainfully. “I am a lord, and you should address me as such.”
Something changes. There’s that smirk on Henry’s face again. “You don’t look like a lord, the way you’re bouncing on my cock like a wanton whore.”
“You disobedient mutt, how dare you,” Hans spits, taken aback not just by Henry’s impudence, but also by how much it turns him on. Both incensed and aroused, he uses the hand that is over Henry’s heart to press down hard , nails digging into firm flesh. The threat is clear enough; just a little more pressure and he could rip his heart right out of his chest. He’s done it before. “I could kill you for such disrespect.”
Henry is not the least bit fazed. “You could, but you won’t. Not when you’re still using me to get yourself off.”
Hans huffs. Henry’s right, especially because his disregard for propriety is more exciting than it is offensive. Still, Hans cannot let this go without some form of punishment. “Perhaps not, but you’ve displeased me greatly… and I know just the way you can make up for it.”
He retracts his grip from Henry’s left pec and slides that hand up to the column of Henry’s neck. Holding, but not squeezing, he says, “I’ve always wondered what werewolf blood tastes like.”
That cockiness immediately drops from Henry’s face. He is still defiant, but there is an undoubtable look of fear in his eyes.
“Oh, don’t worry. Despite my earlier threat, I’m only going to try a mouthful or two. After all, I wouldn’t want to drink too much and have this-” Hans grinds his hips down as he clenches around Henry. “- go soft on me, now would I?”
He leans down all the way, close enough to hear Henry's pulse. His fangs extend instinctively. “This could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you too, Henry. When else would you have a vampire offer to drink from you, much less survive such an encounter? So… will you let me take a sip?”
After a brief moment, Henry ever so subtly tilts his head to the side. “I better not regret this.”
“You won’t.” And with that, Hans closes in and bites.
The second his fangs pierce the skin, the blood that floods his mouth is distinctly different from that of a normal human - it is rich with a smoky spice, one that has Hans’s tongue tingling. Though it is thick, it goes down incredibly smooth, and he almost shudders as he swallows the first mouthful.
Contrary to what he originally thought, this werewolf’s blood is far too appetising, and he could very well get drunk on it.
And it’s not just the blood that has him all excited. When he bit down, Henry’s whole body jerked in reaction to the pain, thrusting his hips up and driving his cock deeper into Hans. The sudden move was like a jolt of pleasure through his body. If this was the man’s natural response to being bitten and drunk from, he would very much like to keep it going.
But a promise is a promise. He allows himself three big gulps before forcing him to pull away. He watches as rivulets of blood drip down Henry’s skin, and is unable to resist the temptation of lapping them up, licking his tongue from the base of Henry’s neck up to the corner of his jaw. The shiver this causes in Henry has him terribly smug. Lips against the man’s ear, he asks, as sultrily as possible, “You enjoyed that, did you?”
“No, I-”
“Don’t lie to me.” Hans pulls back then, making sure Henry is looking right at him. Those blue eyes lock onto him instantly, glancing down as Hans licks his lips again, knowing that they are irresistibly plump and stained red. “Well, you can try, but this part of you certainly can’t.”
He clenches around Henry once more, drawing out another groan. “Tell me the truth, Henry. Let me hear how much you, a werewolf, enjoyed being fed on by a vampire. Do it, and I’ll help you come. I know you’re close.”
Henry tries to squirm again, but with Hans’s full weight back on him, there’s not much he can do. Realising this, he eventually sighs in frustration. “I… damn it!” Belligerent and slightly ashamed yet still aroused, he mutters, “It was fucking incredible. I’ve never felt anything like it, and I don’t think anything else could ever compare.”
“Now wasn’t that easy?” With a satisfied grin, Hans rewards him by resuming the movement of his hips, but this time going at a much faster pace.
Henry is reduced to grunts and moans once again, louder now that he’s admitted to liking something that is a violation to his kind. No more shame is left, and for that, Hans is thrilled. “That’s it, wolf. Let it all out,” he says, breathless as he refuses to slow down.
“Hans.” Henry calls out, voice wrecked. “Hans , I’m going to…”
The man’s insistence on using just his name shouldn’t be as arousing as it is. But either way, he no longer bothers correcting him. There’s only one thing he cares about. “Let go for me, Henry,” Hans murmurs, the command just rolling off of his tongue. “ Come inside me.”
With a groan and a twitch of his hips, Henry does just that, the chains creaking as his whole body tenses, the wave of bliss travelling through his entire body. He comes…. and comes and comes, spilling into Hans and coating his insides thoroughly with what feels like a flood of cum, in a way that the latter has never experienced before in his century alive. The fire that has been steadily building in his groin roars at this utterly new sensation.
“Good lord, how long has it been since you last had sex, or even touched yourself?” Hans asks, smiling in bewilderment. He continues to move his hips in tight circles, wanting to milk every last drop. “You’re filling me up completely.”
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Henry replies with a light smirk once he’s regained enough lucidity, each word spoken as panting breaths.
Hans rolls his eyes, incredulous at how easily Henry returns to his aggravatingly attractive and charming ways. “It is, and you’ve delivered just like I knew you would. Though, there is still the matter of this.”
Wrapping a hand around his own cock, he begins to stroke it firmly but slowly. Immediately, Henry’s eyes focus there, watching his every move.
This puts a smile on Hans’s face. On his next upward stroke, he pulls slowly from base to tip to give Henry a proper show. His might not be as impressive as Henry’s, but it’s nothing to be laughed at either, especially since it has brought pleasure to many. "You’re probably wondering how it would feel having this, the cock of a vampire, your nemesis, inside you, aren’t you? Touch-starved mutt that you are, you’re trying to convince yourself that you’d hate it, but the thought of it excites you nonetheless, right? Being taken by something more evil than your sorry kind?”
A complex mess of conflicting emotions crosses those blue eyes, a storm that mirrors the one he experienced and continues to roil about in him still. Henry says nothing, but eventually what wins out is a ravenous gaze. Being stared down like this, and with Henry still inside him - something that he has no intention of changing any time soon - he’s sure that he could get himself to completion without any further input, but where’s the fun in that? Instead, his mind conjures up a filthy new idea.
“Watch me,” he says, hands returning to grip onto Henry’s chin as he did before, ensuring that Henry cannot turn away “And as I touch myself, I want you to tell me all the things you would do to me if I removed those chains.”
There’s no immediate reply. For a moment, Hans thinks that the man is not going to do it. But then, Henry speaks, “If you released me, it wouldn’t be your hand that’s around your cock. It would be mine… or my mouth… or my arse.”
Hans gasps at the images that immediately fill his head. “What else?”
“I’ll pin you down and fuck you into the mattress, until you can do nothing but scream the name of the beast that’s ravaging you. Until you’re just a hole dripping with my seed.” The words are vile but erotic, as is the grin that is spreading across Henry’s face. “Which do you think will break first, you or this bed?”
Hand speeding up, Hans is on the precipice. “More.”
“Or maybe I’ve had enough of your yammering. I’ll cover your mouth as you take me. Better yet, I’ll stick my fingers into your mouth. That will keep you busy, just like how you enjoyed sucking on my cock.” With a kind of deliberate taunting, he asks, “Will that finally shut you up, my Lord?”
The last two words, dripping with both contempt and lust, are exactly what he needs. With one last tug on his weeping cock, Hans comes. His body is overtaken by a kind of ecstasy that he hasn’t felt in a long time, one that only extends when he glances down and catches sight of his own cum painting white streaks across Henry’s abs and chest. The obscenity of it has him shuddering through the last waves of his orgasm, which are so intense that it takes him a good few seconds before he is steady enough to speak again.
“I had a feeling you were more eloquent than a common brute, but good God,” he exhales, pushing his hair back from his flushed face. “Well, you’ve certainly held up your end of the bargain. So, I suppose I should let you go now.”
He can hear the reluctance and lack of sincerity in his own voice, so it’s no surprise that Henry picks up on it too. A knowing look casts a glint in those blue eyes. “You say that, and yet you still straddle me, refusing to let my spent cock leave the heat of your body.”
Hans feels no need to refute this. In fact he doubles down on it, circling his hips which get him a soft grunt from the werewolf’s lips. “Hmm… and why do you think that is?”
“Well, I’m sure a vampire such as yourself wouldn’t be satisfied after just one round.” Henry has fully caught on by now. No longer is there any trepidation or repulsion, only a look that speaks of a yawning hunger. “And after saying all the things I imagined doing to you, you know that I can’t possibly leave like this. Not when you’re clearly desperate for more.”
How presumptuous of you, Hans thinks with a huff. But he will not deny that he has not yet had his fill, especially when it’s obvious that Henry wants more too. Instead of a reply, however, he simply waves his hands. The shackles around Henry’s wrist come undone, and the chains clatter to the ground. A beat passes as Henry stretches and massages his rubbed-red wrists.
What happens next is so quick that Hans is left stunned, his facilities still not fully regained in his post-orgasm bliss. He finds himself stripped off his pourpoint and his now naked back flat against the mattress, with Henry holding himself above him.
For a very brief second, Hans is gripped by fear. Despite his earlier prideful assertions, he is no match for a werewolf in his current state. What if this was all a ruse, he thinks, afraid that Henry is not using this chance to escape, but to instead deal with the problem that he had sought to erase from the very beginning.
But then he sees the smug look on Henry’s face, and he relaxes instantly. He smirks. “Someone’s impatient.”
“Can you blame me?” Henry asks, voice low and husky yet somehow smooth as silk, the words running over Hans’s skin like a teasing feather. “Besides, I can’t let you have all the fun.”
With a quick readjustment, Henry presses forward slightly, and Hans can feel his cock starting to grow hard inside him. Hans groans, still sensitive but already feeling the flames reigniting. “Careful. You continue acting like this and I might not let you go. Maybe I’ll keep you around as my personal plaything.”
Henry hums, titling his head in mock contemplation. “I wouldn’t mind, especially if that means I get to have you underneath me like this.”
Hans scoffs. “Don’t be too cocky now, you mutt. I’m only letting you do this because I shouldn’t be the only one putting in all the work. In fact, all that just happened was me satisfying myself. Now it’s your turn to properly satisfy me.”
Though Henry rolls his eyes, it is more out of amusement than annoyance. “As you wish, my Lord,” he says, half sarcastically and half flirtatiously. Before Hans can call him out on his sudden and overemphasised use of the title, the man wraps his hands around his waist, rough and warm on supernaturally cool skin. Henry pulls out almost all the way, leaving only the tip of his now fully erect cock.
Then, with no warning, he snaps his hips forward. Hard.
“Oh fuck!” Hans cries out. His hands instinctively fly up to grab onto Henry’s biceps, nails digging in as Henry sets a brutal pace, driving his cock and cum deep into him with every thrust. Over-stimulated his body might be, this strength and carnality that Henry is putting into fucking him soon gets him the all way there, his own cock now hard again too.
The creaking of the bed below him. The repeated smack of their bodies meeting. Henry’s loud panting and moaning mixing with his own. Everything else is drowned out. That is, until Henry says something that just barely manages to break through.
“-ere right.”
“What?” Hans forces himself to blink, as if clearing his vision will help him hear better. It does work though.
“About me wanting you since the day we met. You were right.” There’s that smugness again, and that damned smirk. “Ever since I first saw you, looking down your nose at me, I wanted to bend you over and fuck that haughtiness right out of you.”
This discovery that Henry has lusted over him for months sends another round of aroused shivers down his spine. “Then why haven’t you?”
“Because right now, I want to see your face as it happens. And I must say it’s a lovely view,’ Henry says. “Also, I’ve been wanting to do this.” Bending down even more, he closes his lips around Hans’s right nipple, pulling it into his mouth while his thumb goes to rub the other.
Hans’s body jerks into Henry’s touch, a choked gasp leaving the former’s lips as the latter lavishes attention on the sensitive nubs. Blue eyes look up through thick lashes, accompanied by a gleeful smile. As his hand goes to squeeze Hans’s right pec, Henry says, words coming out slightly slurred as he keeps his mouth occupied, “With your pourpoint on, I only got glimpses of these pretty pink things. I’ve been dying to get my hands on them. Your whole body, really… you were a cruel tease, putting on such a lewd show for me.”
Carding a hand through Henry’s hair, Hans pulls Henry’s head up slightly, wanting him to stop his distracting - albeit pleasing - ministrations for just a moment. “So, you couldn’t wait to grab the chance to touch a vampire, is that it?”
“Aye, that is true, but vampire or not, you are simply irresistible.” Such charm sends Hans’s stomach aflutter, but like before, Henry gives him no time to comment, having moved over to the left nipple. Only this time, he doesn’t just lick and suck - he bites hard around it, into the muscle of Hans’s chest.
Now, the fingers in Henry’s hair are pushing down, the pain-pleasure coursing through him electrifying. Hans is whining in pure arousal, though there is also just the littlest bit of fear over the thought of a werewolf tearing into him, heart first.
But the profane truth is this: Henry is already devouring him, and he never wants it to stop.
“You’re not the only one who can bite, you know,” Henry teases. He begins pulling away, but Hans wraps a leg around his waist, holding him close. Henry raises an eyebrow at this, accompanied by that insufferable grin. “Oh? Could it be that the vampire likes being the one being bitten instead?”
Hans tugs again at Henry’s hair, this time hard enough to surely sting. “Shut up and just keep fucking me, wolf.”
“I already am, but since you asked so nicely.” Again, Hans has no chance to call him out on this irritatingly attractive insolence, because his rough hands go to bring Hans’s ankles up to rest on his shoulders.
Hans lets him. Oh, he lets him, all too easily.
And all too willingly, Hans grabs the underside of his own thighs, pulling on them to keep his legs apart. To give Henry unfettered and unobstructed access.
“Look at you,” Henry croons as he leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of Hans’s head. Each hard snap of his hips now has him ramming his cock in at a delicious new angle. Though he is panting, his words never stop. “Spreading your legs wide open for your mortal enemy. If I didn’t know any better, I would think this is what you wanted all along. You never intended to kill me or let me go, did you?”
Ah, finally something that he didn’t get right. “You’re wrong,” Hans says, though it lacks conviction when he trails off into a moan.
“Yet, look where we are.” Henry looks down at him, smiling lasciviously. “The way you’re practically begging for the cock of this filthy werewolf, you had to have imagined that we would end up here.”
“I never beg,” Hans spits back, the acidity of the words toned down by how they come out as a gasp. Part of him is unsure as to why he’s being so defensive even now; perhaps it stems from the long ingrained animosity between their kinds? Stubbornly it remains, stalwart despite his almost complete surrender of control.
But even he is weak to the allure of the forbidden. This night has already been full of fun surprises, and there’s no telling how it will end, so why not make the most of it? While he has a feeling he might end up regretting it, he says it anyway. “But I would like to see you try and make me.”
“Is that a challenge?” Henry asks, eyes going dark. When Hans simply raises a taunting eyebrow, Henry continues. “Do I get anything if I succeed?”
“What, having a vampire lord ride you then hold himself open as you fuck him not reward enough?”
“When you put it like that, I suppose you’re right,” Henry chuckles, a husky breathless sound that Hans does not find utterly endearing. “Well then, let’s not keep you waiting any more, shall we?”
During their conversation, Hans hadn’t noticed that Henry had slowed down, but now he definitely notices as the man resumes his pace, their bodies meeting with a loud smack. He feels every inch of that thick cock as it thrusts into him, over and over again relentlessly, now dragging over that special bundle of nerves. Shocks travel through his entire body each time it happens. Pure pleasure is coursing through his veins, and he throws his head back against the pillow, eyes closed, mouth falling open in a silent and continuous moan.
“Ravishing,” Henry breathes out, sounding beyond enraptured. “Just looking at you is enough. Are you ready for me to come inside you again?”
“Fuck yes,” Hans keens. He’s trying very hard not to whine needily even though he so badly wants to, refusing to let Henry win. Part of why he’s able to control himself is because he’s also puzzled; why is it that he’s feeling this sexual encounter so much more intensely? Could it really just be due to the fact that Henry is a werewolf?
Their respective supernatural natures aside, he’s had many lovers before, but never any that were as impertinent, as willing to talk back to him in a manner that showed no fear but also no malicious disrespect, simply treating him as one would an equal. But what is most fascinating is that this doesn’t infuriate him the way it usually does. As loath as he is to admit it, he finds it refreshingly charming. This Henry is an interesting fellow, indeed.
But there will be time to pick at his brain later. For now, all Hans wants right now is to feel Henry come inside for a second time.
To help with that, he starts clenching around Henry. This garners an immediate reaction, with Henry gasping and his rhythm faltering slightly. Then, remembering what Henry said, Hans also lets go of one of his thighs to reach down to stroke his own neglected prick. The attention he is giving his cock sends shocks of pleasure right up his spine, which he freely expresses as more moaning. Not only that, he also arches his back to push his chest up, bringing it that much closer to Henry.
Hans is sure that he’s presenting the man the most tantalising sight ever.
Oh how right he is, because Henry mutters a long string of curses. Henry speeds up, but there is no longer any rhythm, just animalistic thrusting.
Even with his own fast healing, Hans’s hips and arse are starting to hurt from how merciless Henry is being. This is something entirely new too. No one has ever been able to truly make him feel this kind of satisfying pain-pleasure before… but what does it say about him that he’s enjoying being treated like this by a werewolf?
Again, he quickly shuts down that line of thought. He wants more Henry, everything else be damned.
And he’s about to get it, because with one final hard snap of his hips, Henry buries himself deep inside him. With a groan that sounds all too much like a howl, Henry comes, handsome face contorting in orgasmic bliss again, the veins in those strong biceps bulging as pleasure runs through them.
Hans shudders at the sensation of Henry spilling into him once more, closing his eyes to focus on tending to the blaze inside him. However, they fly open again when a warm hand wraps around his own, speeding up and tightening the grip of his fist around his cock.
“Henry,” he gasps. He arches his body into the man’s touch, involuntarily this time.
“That’s right,” Henry says, low and seductively. Despite having just come, he continues rocking into Hans with his half-soft prick. “Show me how much you want me, you shameless vamp.”
The double entendre strikes him like a red hot poker. Fuel to the flame in his core. The combination of all three - Henry’s hand, cock, and words - is more than enough, and he topples right over the edge. An eruption of ecstasy, radiating outwards from his groin to the edges of his very being. He comes into both his and Henry’s hands, the latter doing a despicable thing with his thumb, rubbing the pad of it around the tip of the former’s cock to keep him going.
That’s not all. Henry then takes both their hands and pulls them to his mouth. Just as Hans processes what he’s doing, Henry licks them both clean, a lecherous grin on his face the entire time, swallowing it all down like it’s the sweetest treat.
“Sakra,” Hans mutters as he takes in this indecent sight. “Mongrels like you really do eat anything, huh?”
“You say that as if you wouldn’t be happy swallowing my cum as you milk my cock with your throat,” Henry retorts back, not the least bit offended. When this receives yet another huff from Hans, the smirk on Henry’s face only grows bigger. “Besides, this other mouth of yours seems more than satisfied with my seed.”
Getting into a more comfortable kneeling position, Henry looks down to where they are connected. Hungry eyes are transfixed by what he sees there. “God, Hans. If you could see yourself… Can you feel it?”
Hans can feel it. Cum is slowly starting to trickle out and around Henry’s cock that is still inside him. Obscenity in its purest form.
And Hans absolutely relishes it.
When Henry begins to slowly pull back, Hans immediately says, “Don’t.”
“I’ll be slow-”
“No.” Hans cuts him short, knowing that Henry has misunderstood him. “I mean… don’t pull out. Don’t cause more of it to leak.”
Henry blinks, his turn to process the filthy implications. Then, an incredulous yet charmed smile appears. “You amaze me, Hans,” he says reverentially, voice just above a whisper. Something changes then, a noticeable shift in his eyes and demeanour. Hans remains silent, waiting for the reason behind it to reveal itself.
A beat passes, and Henry speaks again. “Can I kiss you?”
The suddenness of the request stuns Hans. Instantly, a dozen different kinds of possible responses come to mind, mostly ranging from snarky to scornful to simple confusion.
He says none of them.
Instead, like all the times before during this night, he gives in to the temptation.
In lieu of a verbal answer, he pulls his hand out of Henry’s grasp. Something flashes across Henry’s face at the perceived rejection, but he ignores it for now, moving his hand to the man’ nape. Once he has a solid grip, he brings him down and smashes their lips together in a searing kiss.
After a second of surprise, Henry kisses back - if it can even be called that. A mess of tongue and fangs, saliva and hot breaths. Both trying to devour the other, suck one another’s souls out from their mouths. Henry wastes no time licking into Hans’s mouth, and Hans lets him, tasting himself as he battles the werewolf’s tongue with his own. Any and all of his noises are swallowed up by Henry, as are Henry’s by him, the man’s groans and grunts sending delightful vibrations against his skin. And because he can’t get enough, he wraps his legs around Henry’s waist and crosses his ankles while he slings his other arm across Henry’s back, pulling him in even closer.
Henry is also quick to reciprocate in kind. One hand goes to Hans’s waist, the other through his hair, spreading his palm out to cradle his head. The gentleness of this act is not lost to Hans, though it is ignored for now in favour of the taste and heat of Henry’s mouth against his.
It has been a while since he last kissed someone. He’s had plenty of sex, yes, but kissing rarely, if ever, happens. Not that he thinks of kissing as something innately romantic - he’s lived long enough to know that such a notion is restrictive and far too trivial. And yet, the last time he kissed a lover, it was never like this. Never this intense. Never overwhelming perfect and perfectly overwhelming at the same time.
All these new sensations… It has to be because Henry is a werewolf, right?
With this thought in mind, and because he needs a break from how good it is, Hans pulls away from the kiss. They are both out of breath, and Henry’s eyes are glassed over in a way that must surely reflect his own. Despite his head swimming in a cloud of lust, enough clarity breaks through for him to say, “You kiss pretty well for a slobbering mutt.”
Henry licks his lips, as if he’s just had the most delicious meal. “And you kiss pretty well for an old man.”
“Old man?” He knows Henry said it to tease, but he can’t help but be offended by the insulting term. “How dare you. Could an ‘old man’ do this?”
Because two can play at this game, he flips them over at a lightning fast speed. Henry is only aware of what’s happening when his back is against the mattress, blinking up at him with almost comically shocked wide eyes. Straddling Henry once again, Hans just grins down at him, enjoying this return to his original position of dominance.
Henry is quick to regain his bearings, however, and he’s grinning too. “I suppose not. But wouldn’t you much prefer this?”
Now it’s Hans’s turn to be surprised. While he did expect Henry to flip them back over, what he doesn’t expect is to be lying face down on the mattress with Henry’s broad body enveloping him from behind, all while the man’s cock never once leaves his body.
But as pleasing as it is to have Henry’s full weight pressing against him, it is also a little suffocating. Hans knows how silly it must sound, for a vampire to have a fear of enclosed spaces. He will not die, so why would a powerful being such as himself be so frightened? Alas, it is an irrational fear, one that he had during his mortal life and continues to plague him despite all the years. So, even with Henry’s warmth and the softness of the bed, he can feel the tendrils of fear creeping up on him.
“-ans.” Henry calls out to him, breaking him out of his thoughts. He repeats, concern in his voice as he whispers against Hans’s neck. “Hans? Are you-”
“I’m fine, Henry. I just…” How is he supposed to reveal such a devastating weakness?
Thankfully, he doesn’t need to. Sensing his trepidation, Henry stays quiet for a few seconds before finally saying, “On second thought, I think you’ll much prefer this.”
With a firm grip on Hans’s waist, Henry moves them both into a sitting position. His chest is still plastered to Hans’s back, but Hans is now in his lap instead. This change is enough for Hans to feel like he can breathe properly again. Henry’s body is no longer stifling; it is now supportive and comforting, as is his heartbeat that Hans can feel through the contact.
It is a moment of calm in the middle of a tempest. For that, Hans is grateful.
He will not voice it though, stubborn as he is to admit his appreciation for the werewolf’s thoughtfulness. Especially when said werewolf is now nuzzling his nape, pressing all too soft kisses along the length of it. Nosing at the place where his neck meets his shoulder, Henry mumbles, “Better?”
Hans says nothing at first, simply focusing on resisting the urge to tilt his head to the side to allow Henry better access. It is terribly enjoyable however, these kisses, and so Hans does hum a small noise of pleasure. After giving himself a few seconds to savour them, he finally asks, “You usually manhandle your lovers like this, wolf?” Now that he’s no longer on the verge of panicking, the fear gives way to arousal, only just now aware of how easily Henry is able to move him despite their comparable sizes.
“No,” comes the direct reply, and Henry doesn’t hesitate with the elaboration. “You’re the only one strong enough to take it . ”
A look crosses the man’s face as he says the last two words, and Hans almost shivers at this predatory gaze. But he is not mere prey, no weak animal that cannot fight back. He does not fall for the bait that Henry has so clearly laid out. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t be able to live this long if I was just some fragile thing.”
“Of course,” Henry repeats, chuckling warmly. “But it’s not just that… you like it when I’m rough with you, don’t you?” And before Hans can even open his mouth to reply, Henry quickly adds, “You can try to lie, but this part of you is already being very honest.”
Ignoring how Henry has thrown his own words back at him, Hans glances down to see his cock already semi-erect. It’s not too surprising, as drinking fresh blood always makes him horny, and with blood as rich as Henry’s, it’s par for the course that he’s ready for a third round. There is also the fact that Henry’s cock is still inside him, and he can feel the man slowly growing hard too.
Knowing that Henry is no stronger than him on this front is what makes him smirk. “And you like it that I let you be rough with me.”
“I do.” Again, no hesitation, Henry admitting it assuredly. “But I think I’ve just done a lot, and you did all the work at the start, so this time, why don’t we do it together?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You can continue to ride my cock, while I help you with this,” Henry says, wrapping a hand around Hans’s sensitive prick, but with a touch so torturously light that Hans can’t help but whine in frustration.
The second the sound escapes, Has immediately wants to take it back because he can hear the way it inflates Henry’s ego, the smug bastard. He will not give him the satisfaction - at least not in that way - so, he does not say anything. Instead, he grabs onto the headrest of the bed with one hand, curling his other arm around the back of Henry’s neck to hold onto his shoulder. Once he has a good grip on both and has his feet planted on the mattress, he raises his hips, pulling off of Henry halfway before dropping back down with a loud smack.
Henry grunts at the sudden impact, but it soon transforms into an aroused hum, a rumble that Hans can feel vibrate against his back. Then, with those forge-roughened and skilled hands of his, Henry reaches for Hans’s pec while tightening his fist around Hans’s cock, giving both a good squeeze. “Keep going. Use me.”
And so, Hans does, impaling himself over and over again on the stake that is Henry’s gorgeous cock. With two loads of cum inside him, every move of his hips creates a squelch that only spurs him on, so focused is he that he has rendered himself speechless, only moaning and panting as he savours the stretch of his hole around Henry and the way the man is filling him oh so perfectly.
“Such a cock-hungry slut,” Henry growls as he strokes Hans at the same speed as he moves his hips. “Wait till I’m in rut. I’ll have you keeping my cock warm as I stuff my seed into this tight hole of yours from morning till night, for days on end until your belly grows round.”
Hans moans louder at that, at both the demeaning name and at how badly he wants to experience the werewolf at his most virile. He has two rounds worth of cum inside him with a third on its way, and he already feels a pressure, a weight building in his lower abdomen. Looking down at it now, he swears that it’s even distended a little. And this is just a normal night for Henry; Hans can’t stop himself from imagining what it would be like if the man was actually in rut. Henry fulfilling his promise of fucking him and coming inside him until the hard plane of his stomach grows into a soft outward curve, body changing to accommodate countless rounds of cum being spilled into him which will all then come pouring out of his abused hole once Henry’s done with him. The utter depravity of it makes it feel like there is molten metal flowing through his veins, a sweltering heat that is unlike anything he’s ever experienced.
As he’s lost in his imagination, Henry then turns his head to capture Han’s nipple between his teeth, giving it a teasing nibble before closing his mouth around it like he did before.
In a miraculous moment of lucidity, Hans snarks, “What are you, a newborn babe? No milk is going to come out even if you suck on it.” Not that he doesn’t enjoy it; it is a highly erotic sight and pleasurable sensation. If anything, he wants Henry to keep going, but he can’t stop himself from commenting on it.
And neither does Henry stop surprising him with that wicked mouth of his. “It can if I pump some pups into you.”
Hans chokes out a gasp. “Henry, that’s-”
“Imagine it, Hans. My seed, taking root inside of you. Your belly, swelling with not just my cum, but with my- our pups.” With the hand that he has around Hans’s cock, Henry stretches out his thumb to scratch his nail along Hans’s navel, right above where his cock is reaching him on the inside. When this elicits a shiver, Henry continues, “You would carry them beautifully. And as they grow big and strong inside of you, I’ll keep fucking you because I know you can take it, and because I know you’ll never stop wanting more.”
A full body shudder overtakes Hans. The thought of having the spawn of his enemy growing inside him should be absolutely revolting, and yet… the perverse nature of it only makes him want it all the more. Both of them as vampire and werewolf are already abominations of mankind, but then to produce a hybrid, multiple hybrids even, as an even more unholy product of their sin-filled union?
Hans is far-too aroused by it, and this single fantasy alone has pushed him right to the edge.
“Fucking hell, Henry,” he gasps again. “And you were saying that I talked a lot? You’re terribly chatty too.”
“But you’re enjoying it, aren’t you, this ‘simple brute’ and his ‘eloquence’?”
“Hmph. Whatever the case may be, how do you even come up with such things?”
“You make it very easy for me,” Henry says with a cheeky glint in his eyes. “And when you react like that, I only want to do it more.”
Oh, how lucky he is indeed to have made such a remarkable catch. “Good, because I am not letting you go anytime soon.”
Henry grins, and with an arousing possessive edge to his voice, he replies, “Neither am I.”
With an answer like that, what else can Hans do but kiss him?
It’s an uncomfortable angle, but it doesn’t matter. Not when he is getting stimulated four different ways: a thick cock filling him, a tight fist pulling at his cock, a warm hand groping his chest, and a skilled tongue licking into his mouth.
Overwhelming does not even begin to describe how he can’t think of nothing but Henry.
Beyond grateful for his almost infinite stamina, he speeds up the movement of his hips, faster and harder. This time, he wants to be the one who comes first.
And he soon gets his wish, because it eventually all becomes too much. The tightening coil in his core finally snaps in a burst of pure euphoria as he comes with a cry right against Henry’s lips. His entire body convulses with this third - and most intense - climax of the night, and he watches with amazement at the ways his thighs quiver in a way he’s never seen before. He sees and feels his cum spilling over Henry’s hand and his own abs, adding to the stains from their first round, which - considering how much has happened between them since then - seems like ages ago rather than what is presumably only a few hours at most.
As the stars in his eyes slowly start to subside, he allows his tired legs to give way, collapsing back down onto Henry’s lap with a rather ungraceful thud. For his part, Henry doesn’t say anything about it, only running his clean hand softly over Hans’s side.
This unexpected gentleness has Hans feeling all kinds of things. It is soothing, grounding even, but it is mostly confusing, and this causes him to involuntarily blurt out, “What are you doing?”
For the first time this night, Henry shows off an awkward - and Hans might even dare say adorable - side to him. The man stills, stuttering, “Oh, I thought- well you- you just came.”
Hans stifles a laugh. “But you haven’t. So what are you waiting for?” He cranes his neck backward, leaning in to whisper into Henry’s ear. “It’s your turn to use me.”
The reaction is immediate. Blue eyes darken with so much lust that they almost go fully black. Two strong hands move to Hans’s arse, digging into the globes of muscles. Then, with that firm hold, Henry moves him up and down on his cock while thrusting his hips up with a kind of beastial ruthlessness that only a werewolf can achieve.
Each drive of that cock into the deepest part of him knocks the air out of his lungs. He can only gasp and pant as he’s being fucked like a mere sleeve, his oversensitive body alight with an excess of pleasure. Mind going blank, he moans, “ Yes, Henry.”
“Hans.” Henry growls again, sounding like he’s downright feral.
Hans reaches back to pull on Henry’s hair. Henry whimpers at the sting, and Hans can’t help but smile a little deliriously. “Does my hole feel good around your big cock?”
“Fuck, it’s so hot. So wet with my cum,” Henry rasps, his composure hanging on by its last threads. “I’m going to mark you so deep that your body will never forget me. You’ll want for nobody else.”
“That’s rather bold of you to assume, wolf. You’re just the newest in a long line of lovers. You think I belong to you alone? What makes you think you’re so special?” Hans is saying all this for the sole purpose of riling Henry up, playing on the possessiveness he sensed earlier. It’s a cheap trick perhaps, to make the man jealous, but he really wants to see how far he can push him.
Henry snarls, driving his cock into Hans with a painful snap of his hips upwards. “I’m the only one who can keep up with you, vampire. Only I can satisfy you the way you want.”
“Then prove it.” He looks down, staring right into those blue eyes glazed over with carnal desire. “Breed me, Henry, and make me yours.”
The command makes Henry go off rhythm, but he does not slow down, instead moving with a new found determination. Despite the increased exertion, the filth continues through gritted teeth and in between moans. “You’re not just a vampire; you’re a damn incubus. With your boundless appetite and this addictive hole of yours, I can’t get enough.”
“Henry-”
“You love it, don’t you? The fact that you’re being debased both inside and out by this lowly blacksmith, this foul werewolf.” Henry’s husky voice reverberates deep inside him. “Who else could ever give you this? Who else could take you and use you as well as I am now?”
In sensory overload, Hans is reduced to a gasping, drooling mess. “No one else. Only you.”
“Exactly.” The growl that leaves Henry has an animalistic edge now, only making it sound even more erotic. “Such a pretty little gluttonous whore… and now you’re mine.”
With such a demeaning compliment accompanied by a possessive declaration, all Hans can do is whine pathetically and hold on until a short while later, when Henry pulls him down hard and keeps him there. Hans moans, then gasps when Henry bites into the back of his shoulder. The twitch of Henry’s cock as he comes inside him is intoxicating, as is the way Henry trembles against him while experiencing his third high of the night. Hans closes his eyes to savour it, feeling particularly smug over how he’s the cause of all of them.
He doesn’t have to ask, he knows: Henry has never experienced anything like this either. Hans has ruined him for anyone else, because no one else could ever compare. He’ll keep coming back for more.
You’re mine now too.
Eventually, Henry lets Hans settle back into his lap. For a few minutes, all they do is sit there in tired but pleased silence, both of them thoroughly well-fucked and blissed out. But everyone has their limits, and Hans is starting to feel uncomfortable, especially with the dried cum on his abs making him itchy. So, he extricates himself from Henry’s grasp, pulling away slowly.
It’s the first time since they started that Henry’s cock has left him completely, and the hollow emptiness feels so foreign. He drops beside Henry with a sigh, lying flat on his back as the cum starts to dribble out of him, hole clenching futilely to keep it all in. He’s been fully debauched, no question about it.
He turns to discover that Henry has been watching him the whole time, eyes currently trained on his crotch. Amused, he shifts to give Henry a better view. “You made this mess; why don’t you help me clean it up?”
“Of course,” comes Henry’s reply, and Hans closes his eyes as he waits. There’s a rustle of the sheets and a dip in the mattress, so naturally he thinks that Henry has gone off to find a cloth or even a towel and some water. It’s only when he feels Henry’s hands on his legs that he opens his eyes again, and to say that he is surprised by the sight that awaits him would be an understatement.
Because what he finds when he opens his eyes is Henry lying down in between his thighs, hands pushing them up and away as he moves his face closer.
“What are you doing?” Hans asks, even though he’s sure he knows the answer.
“I’m cleaning up my mess, just like you wanted,” Henry replies with a smirk before licking a board stripe across Hans’s hole.
“Holy…” The word trails off into a long moan because Henry doesn’t stop there. No, because after he’s licked up the cum - his own cum - that’s leaked out, he then presses past the ring of muscle and delves in deeper with an exploratory tongue.
Hans is enraptured. The image is forever seared into his memory: Henry’s face buried between his arse cheeks, eating his own cum out of him like a starving man devouring the most sumptuous meal. Not even animals partake in such an act, yet this debasement feels oh so right . Hans’s body warms with how much he’s enjoying it. Both our existences are already affronts to nature, he thinks, so a sinful thing like this is not going to make a damn difference.
He also realises that he’s wrong about one thing: it’s only now that he’s been fully debauched.
So lost in the filthy sensation of being emptied and filled at the same time, he’s not sure how much time has passed when Henry finally pulls away, licking his lips with the biggest grin on his face. “This part of you tastes divine too.”
Hans laughs incredulously. “You really do eat anything.”
“I do, but don’t worry, I didn’t clean it all up.” With no warning, Henry presses three fingers into Hans, who whines at the sudden intrusion. “Have to make sure some of it takes if you’re going to be carrying my pups, remember?”
Cheeks flushed, Hans swats at his arm. “You are insatiable.”
“Says the man who didn’t get off my cock the entire time.”
“Alright, smartarse. We’re both greedy, how about that,” Hans says. “Now go, grab the towels I have in that cupboard, and over there is a pitcher of water.”
“Right away, my Lord.” There’s that mischievous grin again, and Hans just rolls his eyes.
As Henry goes to collect the items, Hans has a moment where he realises how bizarre this whole situation is. At the beginning of the night, they were enemies, simple as that. At each other’s throat, ready to kill the other in a heartbeat, without question. Yet, look where they are now, having exchanged teases and snarky barbs the whole night as if they were friends, the banter between them so easy that it’s almost like breathing.
Amazing sexual compatibility aside, Hans has become strangely comfortable around Henry despite the man being a werewolf. In turn, Henry has clearly been at ease from the start, perfectly unafraid to taunt and show a complete lack of respect.
Has he really latched on so quickly to the one person who somehow, in his more than century alive, treats him as an equal? And what luck he has, for said person to be a fucking werewolf of all things. A werewolf who not only has a strong libido and is skilled in bed, but who is annoyingly handsome and charming and good-natured too. That last one especially, because it does also occur to Hans that Henry could very well just leave now that they’re done, but no, he’s actually staying to help clean him up. There’s absolutely no reason for Henry to trust him to not attack and kill him while his back is turned, yet he’s doing so anyway, washing his face and taking a sip of water before walking back with a wet towel in hand, a soft smile on his face and clearly having no defenses up at all.
And as Henry starts cleaning him, he’s surprised by his own passivity too. The fact that he’s lying there, perfectly happy being vulnerable as he lets the man touch him? He is in awe of the total trust they’ve been able to build in a manner of mere hours.
Still shocked by this revelation, he stays silent as Henry finishes wiping him down. It’s not until Henry has put the towel aside and is sitting at the edge of the bed that he speaks. “So.”
“So,” Henry says back, the surreality of this whole thing finally hitting him too.
For a full minute, they just stare at each other, neither saying anything. Then, at the same time:
“Do you want to-” “I should-”
They both laugh awkwardly, which is so strange considering what they were doing just moments ago. So, when Henry gestures at him to talk first, Hans struggles to voice his want. “Well… what kind of host would I be if I didn’t let you stay the night?”
Henry’s eyes widen. “Wait, you’re not kicking me out?”
“Of course not. Even if I was, I won’t be chasing you out of the town either.” Hans relaxes slightly. “I said it earlier, didn’t I?” He stretches, letting blue eyes roam over his body, over the various bites and bruises left behind. At the same time, he reaches up to stroke a hand delicately over Henry’s neck, right where the puncture wounds of his fangs are starting to heal. “You’re an exquisite specimen of a man, Henry, and after all the effort I put in getting you here, I have no intention of getting rid of you… even if you are a filthy and disobedient mutt.”
Henry visibly relaxes too. “You are too. Exquisite, I mean, and I don’t want to leave either… even if you are a bratty bloodsucker.”
Hans shakes his head, partly because Henry is truly too impertinent for his own good, but mainly because he still can’t believe how easy it is talking to him, how ironically natural all of this feels. “Alright, now come here before I change my mind.”
With a big smile and bright eyes, Henry crawls back up to lie next to him, pulling the covers over them both. “You know, I thought vampires slept in coffins.”
Despite wanting to tease him back with werewolf stereotypes, Hans decides instead to explain. “It’s a matter of preference, actually. Personally, I don’t like how cramped they tend to be.”
“Ah, I see,” Henry says, and Hans can see him making the connections in his head. After a brief pause, he asks, “So, you wouldn’t like it if I hold you while I sleep then?”
Of course Henry is a cuddler, why is he not surprised?
While he is charmed by the question, he is once again astonished by the speeds at which they’ve become so comfortable with one another. He is further surprised by his own answer, which is, “I won’t mind. But if you snore or drool, I am going to kick you out.”
Henry’s smile grows even bigger, and Hans can visualise his imaginary tail wagging enthusiastically. You really are just like a dog, aren’t you?
Now that he’s been given the permission, Henry shifts closer until they’re just inches apart. He reaches forward with a tentative hand to touch Hans’s waist. “Is this fine?”
Oh for fuck’s sake , Hans can’t help but think. The man who was so dominant and confident and spewing all kinds of vulgar smut is suddenly so shy? Not wanting to wait (and also because he does want to get some rest after three rounds of mind-blowing sex), he moves in, lying partially on top of Henry. Nuzzling into his neck, he simply says with a yawn, “Go to sleep, Henry.”
After some initial shock, Henry wraps his arm more assuredly around Hans’s waist. With the tired but happy smile evident in his voice, he says back, “Goodnight, Hans.”
And with a werewolf whose body runs as hot as the forge he works at, the warmth quickly lulls Hans into slumber. Even though he is exhausted after such an intense night, it ends up being one of the best nights of sleep he’s ever had.
~
A howl cuts through the silence of night.
But it does not belong to an ordinary wolf. No, it is that of a werewolf.
Specifically, his werewolf.
Sipping on a cup of blood, Hans stares out the window and takes in the elegance of the full moon as he waits. It’s already been a month, and oh how much has changed.
With his heightened vision, he watches the trees. When he sees the leaves of a particular tall pine rustling, he sets his glass aside and casually makes his way down. This castle has been his for over a hundred years, and he knows of all the secret passageways that the servants remain oblivious to. It’s one such passageway that he takes, consisting of a few flights of stairs that are a direct route to a back entrance of the castle which directly faces the forest. Only the gamekeeper regularly uses this entrance, and he visits once a fortnight in the mornings. And while there is usually a guard here, Hans has also scheduled their movements to give him a large enough window of time.
Once there, Hans opens the door. With practice comes perfect timing, as right then, two glowing blue eyes appear in the darkness. What once enraged him is now comforting in its familiarity. He faces the eyes with a smile, one that only grows bigger as a large brown wolf steps out and pads its way towards him.
Approaching him with a wagging tail, the wolf nuzzles its snout against him, and he uses this chance to give it a good scratch around its neck, hands combing through thick fur. As he does so, the wolf then gives him a playful lick across his cheek.
“I know, I know. I missed you too, even though it’s only been a few days.” He didn’t think that he would ever get used to the slobber, and especially having a werewolf’s mouth so close to his own face, yet here he is accepting this show of affection with a hearty laugh. “Alright then, come in.”
It does so, and Hans closes the door behind them. Once he’s sure that it’s securely locked, he starts making his way back up the stairs with the wolf following closely behind. Something shifts, but he does not turn around, easily recognising the noises by now.
When they reach his room and he turns around, he is no longer greeted by the sight of a furry wolf, but instead by a naked Henry.
Over the past month, Hans has learnt that werewolves can transform into their wolf forms whenever they want to. However, it is during full moons that the transformation becomes involuntary, or at least more difficult to resist. Henry has told him that he has tried, but to fight the urge can be incredibly painful. It is usually better to just transform and burn off the energy by running around the forest, which is exactly what he has been doing since he moved to the town, though he did also spend the time productively by scouting out the castle.
Another thing Henry has told him is that transforming back into human form is not as simple as he presumed. They can’t just change back and forth at will; once in wolf form, they have to stay like that for an hour minimum before shifting back, a strange part of their physiology that Henry still doesn’t understand the reason for.
Regardless, there are still benefits to having a werewolf as an ally - Hans recruited Henry to join him in protecting the town since he has the added advantage of being able to go out regardless of the hour of the day. Not just that, but bandits looking to terrorise the town would likely be more afraid of rumours of a large wolf, a far more believable danger than that of a vampire.
It was a duty that Henry willingly took up - provided that he could still continue being a blacksmith, a term that Hans easily agreed to. Not only that, but in keeping with their… relationship , Hans eventually came up with the plan of using the secret passageway during the nights when Henry did have to transform, lest one of the servants or guards discover that their master has taken on a werewolf as a lover.
Of course, it was also discussed that instead of going directly, Henry could simply change back in the safety of his own home and go to the castle afterwards, but Hans is an impatient man. He does like to be kept waiting, wanting to put his hands on his lover as soon as possible.
It’s a greed that Henry is more than happy to oblige to, one that he gladly reciprocates in kind.
There is also the matter of not wanting to further raise the townspeople’s suspicion over the frequent movements of their new blacksmith in and out of the castle at such odd hours. As for the servants, they already know, especially after that first night and also in no small part due to how loud Henry and especially Hans tend to be. But with a master who is a vampire, this relationship is nothing scandalous to them.
Whatever others may think of them, it matters little. Here, in the privacy of this room, they are free to be their true selves.
Hans takes a step closer, reaching forward to push Henry’s hair off of his forehead. “I see that you’ve had a good run through the forests. I hope you’re not too tired.”
“Not at all,” Henry grins, eyes already growing dark.
“Good, but first…” Hans moves closer until they are pressed chest-to-chest. Grabbing onto Henry’s waist, he leans in, bringing his face close to the man’s neck. The sound, the smell of fast-flowing, adrenaline-rich blood have his fangs extended in a flash. He licks along Henry’s pulse point, enjoying the taste of sweat-salty skin. “Ready?”
He always asks, and Henry always says, “Go ahead.”
With that confirmation, he bites.
He’s been tasting this blood for a whole month now, but each time it is just as robust and delectable as the first. The minute the first mouthful floods his mouth and he swallows it down, it warms him from the inside in a wave of euphoria.
And as he’s discovered on that first night, it’s not just enjoyable for him. Henry moans as Hans drinks from him, a sound as delicious as his blood. His hands go to grab Hans’s arse to pull him in even closer as he frots against him, rubbing their growing bulges together in a erotic show of arousal.
It’s become a ritual for them. Every few days, after patrolling the woods, Henry arrives at the castle where he transforms back into his human self, after which Hans drinks his blood. It’s a natural prelude, a form of foreplay all on its own. From the outside, Hans can see how it might come across as a little gruesome, but they both certainly don’t care.
Not when it always leads to multiple rounds of tremendous sex.
By the time Hans has had his fill, Henry is flushed and half-hard already. So, when Hans tells him, “Get on the bed”, he quickly obeys. After stripping his clothes off, Hans joins Henry, straddling his lap like he usually does. He leans down, holding his lips an inch away from Henry’s. “Such a good dog.”
“Anything to please you, my Lord.” Hand going up to his nape, Henry pulls him down to bring him in for a passionate kiss.
In another life, Hans could see himself so easily falling for Henry. In this life, however, well… who’s to say he hasn’t already, scared as he is to admit it to himself. Not because he thinks Henry wouldn’t reciprocate, but it’s exactly because he knows Henry feels the same way.
There’s no need to explain why falling in love with a werewolf, much less a mortal, terrifies him.
But the night is still young, and they have many more nights ahead of them. All Hans wants is to do all kinds of dirty things with Henry while enjoying his company. And if there’s anything he’s learnt over his many years alive, it’s to not dwell on the past or worry over the infinite possibilities of the future.
It’s best to live in the present, and right now, he has this precious man in his bed and in his arms - someone he could have never, ever expected to end up as his ally, his friend, his lover. What could be better than that?