“Oh, Monty, this old classic will never get boring.”
Using my grip on her hips, I lift her to pullout and then bring her pussy back down on my cock, spearing her. Her body swallows me, stretching to take me deep. I find her mouth again, her tongue as I plunge into her over and over.
I can feel the moment she loses herself. Everything clenches deliciously as she comes, and she’s so wet that I slide easily in and out, using her body as my own personal fuck toy. The pleasure is building quickly inside me, as I slam her down and raise her up, picking up speed.
But just as she gets used to the tempo I’ve set, I lift her again, but this time, I tilt her hips, pull her closer, and sink into her ass, making her scream. She claws at me, pulling at my hair, digging her nails into my shoulders, as she’s swept away by another orgasm, this one leaving her a shuddering mess.
I fuck her through it, burying myself in her as though if I stop, she’ll somehow disappear. Each time feels deeper as I rock and push her down, her legs now fully wrapped around my waist.
It lasts forever and a moment.
“Mine,” I murmur, not as ownership but as a truth I’ve carried too long.
“Yours.”
Her head falls back, spine arched, surrender written into everyline of her body. When she comes, I follow instinct and hunger both, sinking my teeth into the curve of her breast, taking what she offers without restraint. Her blood is fire on my tongue. It unravels me.
My own release crashes through me a heartbeat later as a violent sweep. I feel it everywhere, down to the marrow, until there’s nothing left of me but tremor and aftershock.
Long after, I hold her close, her face tucked into the hollow of my throat, our heartbeats syncing into a single, steady rhythm.
And in that quiet, realization settles in.
This was never a fairytale where the princess tames the monster.
This is something darker. More twisted and inevitable.
It’s two monsters recognizing each other…and choosing forever.
Bonus Epilogue
Raleigh
The rain isn’t heavy enough, to be honest.
It’s a misty drizzle, the kind that clings to your lashes and dampens your collar without ever committing to a storm. The streetlights turn it into a silver haze, as though the city wants to pretend it’s gentle at night. That killers don’t roam these streets when they very much do.
Like me.
I stand across from the office building Lucian told me to meet him at, hands in the pockets of my jacket, my sweatshirt’s hood pulled low. Midnight on the dot. He’s precise like that. Always has been. Vampires like Lucian don’t miss appointments, and they don’t waste time.
Which means something’s wrong.
The building rises twenty stories high, all glass and steel and corporate arrogance. Most of the lights are off, but not all of them.A few floors glow dimly, silhouettes moving behind blinds. Maybe some humans but mostly vampires taking the night shift.
I check my phone again.
Lucian
Midnight. Come alone.
No follow-up. Just this address after, a pin dropped like an afterthought.
I’ve been standing here for twelve minutes.
I don’t breathe anymore, but old habits die hard. I inhale out of reflex, the air tasting like wet asphalt and ozone. Somewhere nearby, a car passes too fast and tires hiss over slick pavement. The city hums around me, alive in the way only humans can be—fragile, unaware, temporary.
I shift my weight and glance down the street. No Lucian. No black sedan or limo. No shadow peeling itself off the darkness to greet me with that cool, assessing stare.
