Page 26 of Dracula: Bound in Blood

The mystery leader, his voice now unmistakably familiar to Jonathan, called for a retreat as they were overpowered. Dracula, his face and clothing drenched in blood, turned towards the fleeing figure with murderous intent.

“You dare... lay a hand... on what is MINE?” The Count growled.

“Foul deceiver of God!” the mystery leader howled from above the hill, drunk on fanaticism. “I’ll see your profane existence wiped from this Earthly plane...”

As the man turned to flee, Jonathan caught a glimpse of his face in the flickering torchlight. With a jolt of recognition, he realizedit was Van Helsing, the very man who had warned him about vampyres in the tavern.

The shock of this revelation was cut short as a sharp pain lanced through Jonathan’s abdomen. Looking down, he saw blood seeping through his shirt – he’d been wounded in the chaos without even realizing it. His legs gave way, and he crumpled to the ground, the world spinning around him.

Dracula, poised to pursue Van Helsing and his retreating men, froze as the scent of Jonathan’s blood reached him. In an instant, his priorities shifted. He let out a frustrated roar and allowed Van Helsing to escape, instead rushing to Jonathan’s side.

With impossible gentleness for one who had just torn men apart, the Count gathered Jonathan into his arms. “Hold on,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Then, with a powerful leap, they were airborne, soaring through the night sky back towards the Castle.

The journey back to Castle Dracula passed in a blur of pain and disorientation for Jonathan. He drifted in and out of consciousness, aware only of the strong arms holding him and the rush of wind against his face. The night sky above was a tapestry of stars, impossibly bright and close, as if he could reach out and pluck them from the heavens.

Its imposing silhouette loomed against the moonlit sky as they approached the castle. What had once seemed a place of dread now appeared as a sanctuary, a promise of safety in chaos. Thegreat doors swung open of their own accord as Dracula swept in, still cradling Jonathan’s limp form.

“I think I’m dying...” Jonathan muttered, blood seeping from his lips.

“You will heal, that I promise you.” Dracula entered his chambers and laid Jonathan onto the canopy bed, cradling him close as he tore open his own shirt and used his long nail to slice at his chest. “Drink from me and heal, boy.”

Dracula cradled Jonathan’s head, his eyes locked onto the young man’s face, pale and drawn from blood loss. He pressed his bleeding chest to Jonathan’s lips, his voice a soft, urgent command. “Drink, Jonathan. Take my blood to heal.” He pleaded once more.

Jonathan’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Dracula’s gaze. He hesitated for a moment, then his lips parted, and he began to drink. The first taste of Dracula’s blood was like an electric shock, jolting through Jonathan’s body, awakening every nerve ending. He could feel its power, the ancient, primal energy that was the Count’s essence.

He felt a warmth spread through him, a tingling sensation that started in his core and radiated outwards. His heartbeat quickened, and he could feel his cock stirring, hardening against Dracula’s thigh. He let out a soft moan, his hips beginning to grind against the strong body.

Dracula’s eyes widened in surprise, his breath hitching as he felt Jonathan’s arousal. He knew he should pull away and stop Jonathan from drinking more of his blood. But the sight of him, lips stained red, eyes glazed with desire, was intoxicating. He could feel his own body responding, his cock hardening as Jonathan’s hips moved against him.

“You,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire and restraint. “You should stop. You’ve had enough.”

But Jonathan shook his head, his mouth still pressed to Dracula’s chest. He looked up at the Count, his eyes pleading. “More,” he whispered. “I want more. I want you.”

Dracula’s resolve crumbled. With a low growl, he pushed Jonathan back onto the bed, his hand wrapping around the young man’s cock. Jonathan gasped, his hips bucking as Dracula began to stroke him, his thumb circling the sensitive tip.

“Is this what you want?” Dracula asked, his voice low and rumbling. “Do you want me to make you come?”

Jonathan nodded, his breath coming in short gasps. “Yes,” he managed to say. “Yes, please.”

Dracula’s hand moved faster, his grip tightening as he pumped the solicitor’s slick wet cock. He could feel the young man’s pulse racing, his heart thumping in time with his own. He leaned down, his tongue licking at the blood still smeared on Jonathan’s lips, tasting himself on the young man’s skin.

Jonathan’s hands clutched at Dracula’s shoulders, his nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. He was close, so close. He could feel the pleasure building, the tension coiling in his body, ready to snap.

“Count,” he gasped. “I’m going to... I’m going to come.”

Dracula’s eyes flashed with hunger. He leaned down, his mouth hovering over Jonathan’s cock. “Come for me, Jonathan,” he growled. “Let me taste you.”

With a final, desperate cry, Jonathan came. His body convulsed, his cock pulsing in Dracula’s hand as he spilled himself. Dracula’s mouth was there, catching every drop, his tongue licking and sucking until Jonathan was spent.

Jonathan collapsed back onto the bed, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. But he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted more. He wanted Dracula inside of him.

He reached for the Count, his hands tugging at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. “Please,” he begged. “I want you inside me. I want you to make me yours.”

Dracula’s body was taut with desire, every muscle straining with the effort of holding back. He wanted nothing more than to give in, to claim Jonathan as his own. But he knew the consequences, the darkness that would follow. He had made up his mind to stop chasing after the ghost of the past. Even if this boy proved to be his long-lost love, he would leave him be.

Gently, he pried Jonathan’s hands away, his voice a soft, pained whisper. “No, Jonathan. You need to rest. You’ve been through too much tonight.”

Jonathan’s eyes filled with tears, his voice breaking with emotion. “But I want you,” he said. “I need you.”

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