Page 20 of Dracula: Bound in Blood

As they kissed, something strange began to happen to Jonathan. The room seemed to shift around him, and the familiar yet alien castle suddenly felt like home. Memories that weren’t his own flooded his mind - secret rendezvous, stolen moments of passion, a love that defied time and death itself.

Jonathan broke the kiss, gasping for air. His eyes, when they met Dracula’s, held a spark of recognition that hadn’t been there before. With a mischievous smirk playing on his soft, wet lips, he tugged at Dracula’s hand. “Follow me,” he said, his voice husky with desire. “I know where we can go.”

Confusion flickered across Dracula’s face. “What do you mean?” he asked, even as he allowed Jonathan to lead him through the castle’s winding corridors.

Jonathan’s only response was a knowing smile that sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through Dracula. The Count felt himself grow hard, straining against the confines of his trousers, as he followed Jonathan’s confident steps.

They stopped before a wooden door that Dracula hadn’t opened in centuries. It led to the tower where he had once imprisoned treasonous nobles - and where he and Béla had stolen away for romantic nights while his wife slept, blissfully unaware.

“How?” Dracula breathed, shock evident in his voice. “How could you possibly know about this place?”

Jonathan’s drunken laugh echoed in the empty corridor as he pushed open the door. They ascended the stone steps, the air growing thick with dust and memories.

The old tower bedroom was a time capsule, untouched since Dracula’s transformation. Cobwebs draped every surface like ghostly lace. The once-opulent furnishings were faded and worn, the rich fabrics dulled by the passage of time. Moonlight filteredthrough the grime-covered windows, casting long shadows across the room.

In the center stood a massive four-poster bed, its curtains hanging in tatters. Jonathan pushed Dracula onto it, sending up a cloud of dust that sparkled in the moonbeams. They both laughed, the sound a mixture of joy and disbelief at their surreal situation.

Jonathan straddled Dracula, his eyes dark with desire. For a moment, they gazed at each other, centuries passing between them. Then, with a hunger that surprised them both, Jonathan leaned down and captured Dracula’s lips in another passionate kiss.

Chapter Fifteen

They moved in a frenzy, their hands tearing at each other’s clothes with a desperate urgency. The sound of fabric ripping echoed in the room, mingling with their heavy breaths and the beat of a racing heart. The moment Jonathan’s shirt was torn away, Dracula’s mouth found his nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, causing Jonathan to arch his back and moan with pleasure.

Their clothed cocks strained to touch, the friction between them sending sparks of pleasure through their bodies. Dracula rolled Jonathan onto the bed, the old mattress creaking beneath them as he ripped Jonathan’s pants off. Jonathan’s hard length sprang free, a pearl of precum glistening at the tip. Dracula paused momentarily, taking in the sight of Jonathan spread out before him, his body pink and flushed with desire.

His hesitation was palpable, his dark eyes searching Jonathan’s face for any sign of doubt or fear. But all he saw was a hunger that matched his own. Jonathan’s voice was low and urgent, his words punctuated by ragged breaths. “Please, Count. I need you inside me. Now.”

Jonathan’s pleading eyes were too much for him to resist. He lowered his head, his tongue tracing a slow, teasing path along the younger man’s inner thigh. Jonathan shuddered beneath him, his fingers digging into the sheets as he anticipated the Count’s next move.

His tongue flicked out, making contact with Jonathan’s entrance. The solicitor gasped at the unfamiliar sensation, his body tense as the Count slowly worked his tongue inside. His cold hands gripped Jonathan’s hips, holding him steady as he began to explore him with his tongue.

“Oh god,” Jonathan moaned, his head thrown back in ecstasy. “That feels so good!”

“You taste divine.”

The cool tongue darted in and out, his mouth working in a steady rhythm that had Jonathan panting and writhing beneath him.

And then sharp fangs grazed the sensitive folds of skin, drawing a drop of blood that he eagerly lapped up. The taste of Jonathan’s blood only heightened his desire. Jonathan gasped at the intrusion, his body tense as the Count slowly worked him open with his bloodied tongue.

Giving in to the pleas of the solicitor, Dracula positioned himself at his entrance, his eyes locking onto Jonathan’s as he pushed inside. Jonathan cried out, his fingers digging into the muscled shoulders as he adjusted to being filled and stretched beyond what he ever thought his body was capable of. The Count was a large man indeed! He cried out as he felt himself tear. The pain was intense, but it was quickly replaced by pleasure as the cool, pale man above began to move, his thrusts slow and deep.

“Don’t stop,” Jonathan urged, his voice tight with pain and pleasure. “I need you to keep going. Tear me apart!”

As Dracula’s thrusts grew wilder, his fangs lengthened, senses heightened as the scent of Jonathan’s blood filled the room. Jonathan’s pleading voice only served to fuel his hunger. He didn’t care if the young man was his beloved in corporal form or not. He wanted him, wanted to claim him, to lock him in his tower and feel his body wrapped around his cock for an eternity. He took his pleasure in the lookalikes who darkened his door, but it was empty sex, fleeting encounters to sate his urges in between locking himself in his study or hunting. But this man, this…innocence…the way the back of his hand hovered over his red lips to keep himself from crying out…not even his beloved was this reserved. No, these actions were uniquely Jonathan’s. Dracula couldn’t help but chuckle.

He sank his fangs into the young man’s neck; the rush of warmth flooded his mouth, and the taste of Jonathan’s blood was intoxicating. He drank deeply, feeling the life force of the man beneath him pumping into his body, warming him from the inside out. His pale skin flushed with life, this boy’s life, and he was now as pink as any mortal man.

But even as he drank, Dracula was aware of the pleasure coursing through his own body. The feeling of Jonathan’s tight heat around him, the way their bodies fit together as if made for each other, it was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

Jonathan cried out, his body convulsing as he found his release. And with that Dracula felt a sense of triumph.

Just a little taste of his blood, and the boy would not become a vampyre, but a willing slave eager to serve, an addict for the blood and the source of this dark magic. He could…

Dracula pulled out, his cock slick with blood and cum. He looked down at the mess they had made, his eyes wild with hunger, but of a different kind. He felt a possessive urge to make the boy drink. He would never return home to the outside world of progress and light, he would remain a creature of shadow, chained to a monster for all eternity if he wished it so. He ran his fingers through the sticky mess, bringing them to his lips and tasting the mixture of their fluids.

Jonathan looked down at the mess between his legs, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to make such a mess.”

Dracula chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving the young man’s face. “This century has truly repressed you, my beautiful one,”

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