Page 31 of Dracula: Bound in Blood

“You no longer wish to live like this,” Jonathan breathed, he could feel his partner awakening to the Count’s cock pressed against him. “Isolated from the world. I can help you rejoin society.”

“Oh?” Dracula’s voice was tinged with amusement and irritation. “And you presume to know how I wish to live? We share a bond, solicitor, but you don’t know me.”

Jonathan’s eyes flashed with determination. “Then why did you search for Béla’s reincarnation all these years? You could have given up, but you refused. And now I’m here. Why lock yourself away in this castle full of memories from a long-dead era? It’s nothing but dwelling on the past. Why refuse to go out there and experience the new world, a new era? I don’t have to know you to know that this is unhealthy.”

Dracula’s expression hardened. “Sending you home was most certainly the right call,boy.“ He shifted, giving Jonathan space to leave the coffin. “We leave the moment the sun goes down.”

But Jonathan refused to budge. “Why did you kill the others who resembled Béla?” he asked. “Have you killed every mortal you’ve come into contact with, or transformed them into whatever your servants are?”

Dracula muttered under his breath, “Vigo has certainly been chatty.” Then, louder, “Do you have a death wish, Jonathan?”

“I do not,” Jonathan replied firmly. “That’s why returning to London is something I can’t do. Van Helsing might follow me there, or other Hunters.”

“I will have my children of the night look after you,” Dracula countered.

“But it won’t be the same,” Jonathan insisted. “It won’t be you.”

Frustration colored Dracula’s tone. “I’m trying to give you your life back, to make of it what you will. Right now, you’reexperiencing the highs of drinking my blood, but after a while, it will settle, and your heart will pump more of your human blood back into your body. Do you really wish to be like Vigo?”

Jonathan paused, considering. “I’m not sure what I want,” he admitted. “And that’s all the more reason why I need to remain here. We can help one another break whatever cycle we’re in.” He continued, his voice softer now. “I am not Béla, but you are no longer the historical war hero, nor do I believe you to be a monster. Times have changed, things are different. And you are alive. So you should live.”

Dracula scoffed, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something—uncertainty, perhaps. “I won’t pretend to be unaffected by your words,” he said. “But I most certainlyama monster.“ He flashed his fangs at Jonathan. “You will die if you cannot see what is right in front of you.”

The first touch was electric. Dracula’s lips were cool and surprisingly soft. Jonathan felt a shiver run through him as their mouths met, the Count’s breath ghosting across his skin. Perhaps it was desperation; perhaps it was courage; perhaps it was who the fuck knows what, but Jonathan couldn’t help himself.

For a heartbeat, Dracula remained still, shocked by Jonathan’s boldness. Then, with a low growl that Jonathan felt more than heard, the Count responded. His lips moved against Jonathan’s with centuries of pent-up passion, alternating between gentle caresses and hungry presses.

Jonathan’s senses were overwhelmed. The taste of Dracula was intoxicating - a heady mixture of wine, copper, and something indefinably ancient. His scent enveloped Jonathan, a complex bouquet of earth, smoke, and a hint of something metallic.

As the kiss deepened, Jonathan felt the sharp edge of Dracula’s fang graze his lower lip. A jolt of both pain and pleasure shot through him as the fang nicked his flesh, drawing a bead of blood. The taste of iron mingled with their kiss, and Jonathan heard Dracula’s sharp intake of breath.

The Count’s hand came up to cup the back of his head, his fingers tangling in the young man’s hair. The touch was possessive, almost desperate, as if Dracula feared Jonathan might slip away at any moment.

Jonathan’s own hands found purchase on Dracula’s shoulders, feeling the cool, marble-like skin beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. He pressed closer, lost in the sensation, all thoughts of fear forgotten in the heat of the moment.

When they finally parted, both were breathing heavily. Jonathan’s lips tingled, swollen and sensitive from the intensity of the kiss. He could still taste Dracula on his tongue, a flavor he knew he would crave for the rest of his days.

Dracula’s eyes were dark with desire, the earlier uncertainty replaced by a hungry glow. A drop of Jonathan’s blood clung to his lower lip, a vibrant splash of red against his pale skin.

He reached for the Count, to pull him in for more.

Dracula tried to pull away, but Jonathan held fast. Dracula laughed, a rich, warm sound that Jonathan loved. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”

Béla would have obeyed, would have left when ordered, perhaps out of respect for his rank. But Jonathan... Jonathan was different. Dracula didn’t know how he felt about that.

The boy began unbuttoning the Count’s shirt and resumed kissing his neck and then cheeks before moving to his lips again.

But Dracula held back, admitting, “I can’t do much. I’ve been weakened by the blood loss from mending your wounds.”

Jonathan looked up at Dracula, his eyes filled with desire. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice husky with need. “There are other things we can do together. Let me show you.”

Dracula raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, really?” he said, his voice a low rumble. “And what, pray tell, do you have in mind?”

Jonathan smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. He began to unbutton Dracula’s pants, his fingers working deftly despite the cramped confines of the coffin. “I think you’ll like it,” he said, his voice filled with promise.

Dracula chuckled, his breath hitching as Jonathan’s hand slipped inside his pants, wrapping around his cock. “I have no doubt that I will,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving Jonathan’s face.

Jonathan began to stroke Dracula’s cock, his hand moving in a slow, steady rhythm. Dracula’s eyes fluttered closed, a low groan escaping his lips. His hips moving in time with Jonathan’s hand.

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