#Masema x OC | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foxyanon · 7 months

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Worship

SURPRISE SHAWTY! This little idea took root and I had to get it out. Didn’t think I’d write for Masema, but here we are. I typed this up in my phone and half assed reread it. It’s officially 3am where I am and now, I can rest.

Summary: How far would you go for your obsession?

Pairing: Masema Dagar X Rhaenerys Targaryen

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Word Count: 3230

TW: mentions of death, blood, murder, slightly manipulative Rhaenerys (she’s Maegor’s daughter, that’s all the warning you are getting), no beta, we die like Maegor

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Wheel of Time or A Song of Ice and Fire nor do I own any of the images used.

Dividers made by @arcielee 💙

He didn’t know what happened for him to land here. One minute he was fighting Seanchan soldiers at Falme, the next a portal opened around him and everyone within a 20 foot radius while Rand was busy fighting Ishmael. He vaguely recalls being pulled through the swirling vortex before landing harshly in a grass field, the salty smell of sea air filling his nostrils. While he worked to regain his bearings, he noticed multiple Seanchan soldiers fell through with him, alongside his own comrades. There was a pause between everyone involved before they started fighting again. He brought his blade up just in time to block an attack before the sound of thunder rolled across the field. He would’ve ignored it, if it hadn’t been followed by a deafening screeching roar. He looked up just in time to see a large black and purple dragon fly overhead, circling the field for a place to land.

Just as the beast landed roughly, shaking the ground and throwing several people off balance, Masema caught sight of something that would be burned in his mind for the rest of his days. There, in the saddle of this magnificent creature, was a woman. She hopped down out of the saddle, her very presence commanding the attention of the battling warriors. She unsheathed her own sword, the blade looking as though it were made for her and her alone.

“I command you to lay down your weapons or face your end by dragonfire!” Her voice rang out, clear and commanding, as she approached those assembled.

A few dropped their weapons, but Masema laid his sword down and dropped to his knees, some powerful feeling within him telling him to obey her. The closer she got, the more he could make out her unique features and he was taken by her beauty. Her long silver-white hair was pulled back into elaborate battle braids and her eyes…Creator help him, her eyes were the prettiest shade of purple he’d ever seen. She looked out over the soldiers assembled and snarled, the dragon perched behind her roaring loudly, a reminder to do as she said or else. Everyone suddenly dropped their swords and threw their hands up, probably hoping for mercy. The mysterious woman sauntered through the crowd, the blade in her hand glinting dangerously in the light of the midday sun. When she stopped in front of Masema, his heart nearly stopped. She placed the flat of her blade under his chin, tilting his head up and staring into his eyes with an intensity he became addicted to instantly.

“You were the first to kneel in my presence, so I shall speak with you and you alone. Who are you and where have you come from?” Her voice softened, but was no less as commanding as before and he was hooked.

He answered her without hesitation, telling her who they were and briefly explaining the strange situation. She tilted her head to the side, an enchanting smile gracing her lips as she pulled the blade away from his neck.

“A pleasure to meet you, Masema.” The way she said his name caused his mouth to run dry and his heart to race. “My name is Rhaenerys Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne.”

He bowed his head in submission, feeling an intense feeling of obeisance spreading through him. When he looked back up at her, she had sheathed her blade and gestured for him to stand. He did so willingly, following behind her as she separated the Shienaran forces from the Seanchan. The threat of her dragon kept everyone in line, none daring to challenge the Princess. Once everyone had been separated, she faced the Seanchan men and gave them a sadistic grin.

“My new friend here has told me you are the enemy, so I shall treat you as such. Make peace with your deity, you shall meet them shortly,” she said in plainly, staring at the scared faces of the Seanchan soldiers.

Dracarys.

With just one word she had uttered and the soldiers Masema had been fighting were engulfed in flames as her dragon responded to her decree. He looked back at the Princess and swore right then and there that he was in the presence of a goddess amongst mortal kind and he would serve her faithfully until the end of his days.

Several months had passed since his arrival on what he learned was the island of Dragonstone, the primary home of his beloved princess. He and the rest of his companions had been added to her household guard, and while some had wished to return to their world, he and many others wished to stay. He worked tirelessly to prove himself loyal and faithful to her, acting on her orders without a thought. Anyone he came in contact with, he spoke nothing but praises of her and her deeds, feeling proud to be of service to one so divine. He was naturally a charismatic man, so it took no time at all for him to secure a steady following that joyfully supported Rhaenerys’s claim to the throne.

He had met her father and mother, King Maegor and Queen Elvira, as well as her grandmother, Dowager Queen Visenya. While his loyalties were with Rhaenerys first and foremost, he would do as they commanded since she regarded them highly. He had heard the rumors of the King's cruelty, but he never believed them. In his mind, those who were dealt with harshly often deserved it and he had no qualms doing the dirty work of taking care of the problem. It didn’t take long for him to move up in the ranks, quickly becoming House Targaryens most loyal servant and deadliest warrior. He prided himself on his skills, feeling beyond grateful for the recognition he was shown, especially when his Princess praised him for his deeds. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to see that radiant smile on her face, even if she asked him to eliminate a threat to her future reign. To him, nothing was too great an ask that he wouldn’t do willingly and with a smile on his face.

His hands may have brought about the death of lords and commoners alike, anyone who wouldn’t support her claim for whatever reason, but he didn’t care. Their blood may have been on his hands, but his actions kept hers clean and pure, just as she was meant to be. It was his duty, no his honor, to carry out her orders. Wherever she went, he was sure to follow like her shadow. Whenever she held court at Dragonstone, he was there at the foot of the dais. She was the judge and jury, he was her executioner. Some of his fellow Shienarans tried talking to him, saying he was acting like a fanatic about her and that she was just as cruel as her father. He snapped back that they didn’t understand, that this was what he was meant to do and that she was a perfect princess, that they couldn’t possibly understand what that meant and how dare they speak such treason about the woman who saved them.

That night he reported what they had said to Rhaenerys, on his knees at her feet as she sat in her rooms. He felt like a failure, his own people betraying the woman who gave his life meaning. After he spoke, he couldn’t look her in the eye for fear of seeing anger in her mesmerizing eyes.

Instead, he felt her soft fingers against his chin, gently tilting his head up as she gave him a soft smile. Her thumb gently brushed across his lower lip, his breath catching as she leaned forward and whispered softly.

“You have not failed me, Masema. They have simply lost their way. Speak with them, lead them back to the path of righteousness and let them see the error of their ways. If they refuse, you know what must be done,” her soothing voice squashed his doubts and he nodded vigorously.

“As you wish, Princess,” he responded breathlessly, quickly standing and bowing deeply before leaving to speak some sense into his friends.

When dawn came, several had changed their minds. Masema was very convincing, but not enough to convince all of them. Those who refused to follow Rhaenerys met their demise by his hand. He delivered their heads to her, laying them at her feet as she broke her fast. His hands and face were still covered in blood, leaving imprints on the floor as he bowed deeply before her, his forehead and palms pressed against the cold stone.

“You have served me well, Masema, removing potential weak links from my guard. Now, I must ask another favor of you,” Rhaenerys spoke in her usual enchanting voice, impressed by his devotion to her. The sight of the decapitated heads and blood bothered her none, her gaze trained on Masema.

Masema looked up at her with barely contained enthusiasm, eager to please her again and hear praises for his deeds fall from her soft lips. “I am yours to command, Princess.”

“The time for me to marry has come. I need you to spy on the potential suitors as they come to Dragonstone. Learn everything about them and report back to me with the one you think would best serve me as consort,” she told him, reaching out and gently cupping his bloodstained cheek. Masema leaned into her touch, her exotic scent invading his senses and reaffirming his devotion to her. “You have proven to be the most loyal and faithful to me and my House. Only you can do this task for me, Masema.”

His heart swelled with adoration and pride, the knowledge that she trusted him above all others making him feel lightheaded. He kissed the back of her hand, swearing to fulfill her wishes before leaving her chambers.

None of them. Absolutely none of those weak willed, pompous fools are worthy of being in her presence, let alone marrying her. The Lannister boy was too self centered and focused on his own House, rather than expanding the greatness that is the House of the Dragon. He had no real qualms about the Stark lordling, but the stoic Northerner wasn’t interested in the affairs of the Iron Throne and that just won’t do for his princess. The Baratheon brat might’ve been a contender, but his wandering eyes and hands knocked him off the list. Princess Rhaenerys deserved someone who would be devoted to her and only her, someone who wanted to ensure the survival of House Targaryen above all else. Someone like him.

As he stood there reporting his findings to Rhaenerys in the chamber of the painted table, he felt rage at the lack of options for his sweet princess. She walked slowly around the lit map table, her grandmother sitting at the head of the table as the women listened to his report.

“None of them are suitable for potential consorts, Princess. They are either more concerned with their own Houses legacies or they care more about their own personal interests than yours. They are barely fit to lead their own Houses, let alone have the privilege of being your consort,” he ground out, his anger boiling over before he remembered where he was. Masema cleared his throat and looked at the ground, embarrassed by his outburst. “Forgive me, I should not have let my emotions get the better of me. I will do better in the future.”

“No need, Masema. Your honesty is refreshing and much appreciated on this matter. Knowing you care so much about the future of this House is a good quality, one that should be rewarded,” the Dowager Queen spoke, her voice wizened but still just as assertive. “There will be more that arrive in the coming weeks. Continue your work, there is bound to be someone amongst the nobility that will suit our needs.”

Masema bowed deeply, casting a quick glance to Princess Rhaenerys before departing the chamber and slipping into the shadows again. He was thrilled to serve at her leisure, but he felt a bit of envy towards the man she might marry. None of them deserved her, she was far too heavenly for the likes of those fools. She needed someone who would worship her as he did, but none came even close.

Many weeks went by and all hell broke loose. During another suitor's visit, Queen Visenya passed away in her sleep. Rhaenerys was heartbroken, her cries burned into Masema’s mind as she sobbed in his arms, not allowing anyone else near her when she was so vulnerable. Not even a fortnight later, during a visit to King's Landing, was Maegor impaled on the Iron Throne by his consort, Elinor Costayne, in front of numerous witnesses that included Rhaenerys and Masema. That very same day, Prince Jaehaerys returned to the Red Keep and attempted to usurp Rhaenerys of her birthright. The massacre that happened after would be written about as a dark day for Westeros. Many had flocked to Jaehaerys and supported his claim, but more had followed Princess Rhaenerys thanks to the silver tongue of Masema and the months of traveling he had done in his early days, garnering the support of the smallfolk and even many of the smaller Houses.

At the end of the slaughter of King’s Landing, Rhaenerys stood in the throne room and was crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. The army of Jaehaerys met with the millions of small folk who supported the rightful heir and the outcome was brutal on both sides. Thousands lay dead, burned or maimed in the streets from both sides. Her kin that supported Jaehaerys were executed by Masema, because he refused to have her named kinslayer. Only the twins, Aerea and Rhaella, and her cousins, Alysanne and Rhaena, submitted to her rule outside the new Dowager Queen Elvira, Rhaenerys’s own mother. Despite Alysanne having been Jaehaerys’s wife, even she knew that what he did was wrong. Queen Elinor was executed for the murder of the king and since three of Maegor’s wives were already dead, the remaining bent the knee and were allowed to live out their days as well cared for widows at Dragonstone, under the watchful eye of Elvira. The dragons of the deceased riders were secured in the Dragonpit, to be cared for by the keepers until new riders had come of age.

Despite the chaos, the coronation was life changing for Masema. He always believed that Rhaenerys was beautiful, but she was truly stunning when he saw her sitting the throne for the first time. She wore the crown of her father and grandfather, Dark Sister shining brightly in her hand amid the dull blades that made up the Iron Throne. After that day, the number of men vying for her attention and hand increased exponentially. If he thought the prospects were sorry before, he was truly disappointed by them now.

He knelt at the foot of the Iron Throne, staring up at her as he reported on another batch of suitors, these ones worse than the last. She gave him a little smile when he finished and stood up, speaking in a captivating voice as he looked down at the floor.

“All these men, they are not suitable for me?” She asked as she took a few steps down the stairs of the throne.

“No, my Queen.”

“They will not further the glory of House Targaryen?” Another few steps down.

“No, my Queen.”

“They would not be loyal to me and only me?” The last few steps and she was standing in front of Masema.

“No, my Queen.”

“They would not love me the way you love me?” She walked around him, her fingers dancing across his shoulders and causing him to lean back into her touch.

“No, my Queen.”

“Perhaps I have had you looking for my husband in the wrong place,” she said musingly, stopping in front of her right hand man and placing her fingers under his chin. “Perhaps, my consort is right here, looking so pretty on his knees for me.”

Masema inhaled sharply, looking up at Rhaenerys with confusion and maybe a little excitement in his mismatched eyes. “I-my Queen…”

She chuckled darkly at his stuttering, tracing his lips with the tip of her finger. “Hush, Masema. I see it so clearly now. Those noblemen were never going to be suitable because they weren’t you. Only you can do this for me. I need you, Masema. I must have heirs and I trust only you to fulfill my needs,” her voice lured him in like a siren and he found himself instinctively leaning forward towards her before he caught himself.

“My Queen, I am not worthy of such an honor. I am a sinner, my hands stained with the blood of your enemies. I would not forgive myself if I tainted you with my touch,” he whispered, feeling her fingers thread through his hair as she softly scratched his scalp.

“Then find redemption with me. You, my devotee, shall be absolved of your wrongdoings by giving me what I want and need. Let my touch cleanse you, my sweet Masema,” she whispered in that enchanting tone of hers and he knew he would do anything she asked of him.

He hesitated only for a second before agreeing to her proposal, kissing the inside of her wrist as he was consumed with euphoria at the idea of serving his Dragon Queen in a more intimate manner.

They flew to Dragonstone that afternoon on the back of her dragon, Abraxsas, and were married in the traditions of House Targaryen as the sun set, with her family their only witnesses. Their first kiss was one Masema will remember vividly, the taste of her blood on his tongue the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. He vaguely remembered the small wedding feast but he definitely remembered the wedding night.

He remembered the way she looked like a goddess both in her dress and out of it. He remembered the way he kissed every inch of her perfect body, taking his time memorizing her sensitive spots and paying special attention to them. He certainly remembered tasting her essence for the first time, thinking how this was where he was meant to be and that he could spend the rest of his life praying at her altar like this. The sounds she made as she cried out his name when she finished on his tongue and the way her skin felt against his when they finally became one are forever embedded within his memories.

Once they were both spent and satisfied, she had fallen asleep amidst the silk bedding as a gentle breeze blew in from the sea, the moonlight shining through the large arches and casting a pale light on her unconscious form. He had taken care to make sure she was cleaned up from their intimacy before crawling back into bed beside her. He gazed at her adoringly, feeling appreciative for having been transported to a world where such divinity was within his grasp. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, feeling cleansed of the sins he committed in her name and having found a new way to worship his beloved Rhaenerys.

Taglist: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @valeskafics @gemini-mama @bouncehousedemons @mrsarnasdelicious @synindoodles

#masema dagar #masema #Masema x OC #wheel of time #a song of ice and fire

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foxyanon · 2 months

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All For You

Notes: This is a gift to my closest moot and friend, @sihtricfedaraaahvicius. Happy birthday you beautiful soul, may your day be everything you want it to be and more 💙💜

Summary: You are whisked out of your cozy life into the arms of a vampire who wants nothing more than to make you his.

Pairing: Vampire!Masema Dagar x Human!Reader

Word Count: 5641

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: Smut, monsterfucking, blood sucking, vampire/human relationship, Corvina makes an appearance here

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from The Wheel Of Time, nor do I own any of the images used. I only own my own OC, Corvina.

Dividers by @arcielee

Masema Dagar was many things; wealthy businessmen, vampire and an amazing dresser. One thing everyone who ever saw him could agree on was that he was just as discerning with his woman as he was with business deals. No two of his lovers ever looked the same but all were as beautiful and talented as a pageant queen. It was well known he didn’t keep them around for a long time and to be one of his ladies was a ticket to a far better life.

At least, that’s what he was like before he met you. You, with your sweet scent and dazzling eyes, had ensnared him completely when you accidentally ran into each other at the antique mall he loved to browse. You were one of the seasonal workers, tasked with helping test the vintage dishware for radioactive paint and properly assess everything that came in before it went to the floor. You looked up to apologize, breath catching at the intense gaze in his eyes, before muttering your apology.

Masema, however, was already picturing what you’d look like in the 1957 Bar Suit from Dior with matching pumps. You were exactly what he was looking for, and mentally he was already moving meetings around so he could take you to his stylist and completely redo your entire wardrobe. He grinned at your wide eyed look, the tips of his fangs peeking out and glinting in the low light of the Edison bulbs illuminating the warehouse. Your sharp intake of breath and the sudden fluttering of your heart didn’t go unnoticed by the man who suddenly needed you to become his and only his. He took your hand, bringing it slowly to his lips to kiss the back of your hand and giving you his most charming smile.

“No need to apologize, little one. I came here looking for something specific and it appears I’ve just found it,” he said smoothly, the timbre of his voice sending shivers down your back in tandem with his fingertips gently rubbing over the veins of your wrists.

If you weren’t already speechless, he may have stolen your breath entirely with that statement. Your head was spinning and you were so lost in his eyes that you forgot you were at work. Attempting to regain some control over yourself and be professional, you cleared your throat awkwardly and went to take your hand back, but he simply tightened his grip and pulled you closer, turning your hand over to inhale your scent along your wrist.

“You smell delicious, little one. Something so sweet must have a name to match. Tell me it,” he spoke in that rich cadence, eyes locking with yours as his mouth watered at the thought of sinking his fangs into your skin. When you stuttered out your name, he tasted it on his tongue and found he liked it far more than he should. He needed no introduction, but he gave you one all the same and you swore he groaned when you spoke his name in your lovely voice.

“A pretty name for a pretty lady, and far too beautiful to be working. Your man should be providing for a little thing like yourself, unless you don’t have one?” He was only asking out of courtesy, he’d already made up his mind you were leaving with him.

As personal as this conversation had quickly become, you found you couldn’t help but indulge. He was alarmingly handsome, charming and seemed wholly focused on you. Sure, he might not keep you for a long time, but it would be a fun one nonetheless.

“Umm, no. I don’t have a…man in my life,” you said quietly, allowing Masema to lead you towards the register where your boss was. He hummed in response, never releasing your hand.

“Their loss, since you will be mine now,” he said with a grin before waving your boss over. “This lovely lady and the red crushed velvet divan are coming with me,” he stated, pulling a small stack of cash out of his suit jacket and setting it on the counter. His tone left no room for debate, and he kissed your fingers before telling you to go collect your things. You listened, hearing your coworkers whisper how lucky you were as he always treated his girls very well. You only heard the stories, but you were both intrigued and confused as to why his focus was on you.

By the time you finally pulled your head from the clouds some time later, you realized you were in his car on the way to some store. The dark tint on the windows didn’t hide the fact you were on Fifth Avenue, names of stores you could only dream of entering passing by. You must have looked bewildered because you heard him chuckle beside you in the back of the town car.

“No lady of mine will wear anything that’s available to the masses. You have a body made to be dressed in Chanel and Yves Saint Laurent,” he reached up, his thumb tracing over the pulse point on your neck as he heard your heart beat erratically in your chest. “Your lovely neck was meant to display Tiffany, Cartier and Harry Winston pieces. It would be a crime not to clothe you in proper attire,” he said softly, his fingertips gently tracing along your collarbone and you were reeling from the sudden change in your life once more.

The reality of your situation only started sinking in when you were standing on a little platform in front of several mirrors and staring at your reflection in a square neck black dress, the hem of the white petticoat barely visible underneath the fabric of the skirt. The dress was simple yet classic, something you never pictured yourself wearing and suddenly you were feeling very out of place in the dressing room. Masema sensed your discomfort, noting the way your hands hovered along the silhouette of your dress. He approached you from behind, gently grabbing your hands and wrapping them and his arms around your waist.

”What is going on in that pretty head of yours, hm? Talk to me, little one,” he whispered in your ear, lips trailing along the column of your neck as you leaned back in his embrace.

”This is all so much and so fast. This morning I was getting dressed for work, and now I am standing in a luxury store wearing a dress that costs as much as my rent. I feel like I am in a waking dream,” you answered, sighing when he nipped at your ear. “I do not belong here…” you trailed off, feeling his grip tighten around you as he met your gaze in the mirror.

“Never think such thoughts of yourself. You belong wherever I say you do, understood?” He said firmly, hoping to banish any more of those thoughts from your mind.

You nodded, feeling weak in the knees at his intensity. You briefly wondered if he was like this with the previous women, but that thought didn’t linger long as you were swept away to try on another outfit he picked out.

Weeks passed and you learned that Masema was nothing if not serious when he took a lover. You were moved into his stately house practically the day you met him, and he paid to have your lease broken from the shoebox you once called your apartment. When you asked him why he was doing all this for you, he simply said you were meant to be doted on and he wanted to be the one that provided for you. You decided not to question him further as his answer seemed genuine and you never had someone want to care for you like that.

The first time he fed from you was an experience you won’t forget. He was working on some paperwork in his office when you found him, his hair hanging loose from his usual top knot as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You had only been with him for a few days, but he told you he would never demand anything of you, especially as a payment for his gifts to you. However, you couldn’t help but notice how exhausted he looked and you wanted to do something for him. You don’t know what compelled you to do it, but you walked into his office unannounced and perched yourself on his desk, hands gripping the edge of the mahogany as you looked at him.

Masema perked up at your presence, his eyes slowly trailing up your form with a smirk. He thought you looked so cute in that moment, but his mind soon wandered to depraved images of you writhing on the surface as he fucked you hard.

“I want you to bite me,” you said, gently swinging your feet as your words pulled Masema from his thoughts. The heat in his gaze intensified and he licked his lips, both actions having you squeeze your thighs together.

“Are you certain you wish for that? Being fed on is an…intense sensation, to put it politely,” he stated as he sat up, while internally he was trying desperately to keep himself from doing what you wanted. You nodded but he wasn’t accepting that, he needed to hear it from your lips. “No, little one. Use your words and tell me.”

You blushed and looked down, only for Masema to stand from his chair and tilt your head up with two fingers under your chin. The look in his eyes told you that he wouldn’t ask twice and you stuttered out a breath.

“Yes, I am sure,” you replied softly, feeling his thumb trace your bottom lip.

Masema brushed your hair back away from your neck, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head tenderly. He placed featherlight kisses along your jawline towards your pulse point, relishing in the little sigh you let out as you exposed your neck to him and spread your legs, allowing him to slide between them.

“It will hurt briefly, then that pain will fade to pleasure,” he whispered against your skin, free hand gripping your waist and pulling you closer to him. He didn’t give you time to think yourself out of this, his fangs piercing your skin causing you both to moan. The moment your blood washed over his tongue, he knew he’d never crave another the way he craves you.

Your hands gripped his biceps, feeling his muscles flex beneath the fabric of his button up shirt. You felt lightheaded and dizzy with desire, pressing your chest against his and whimpering at the feelings coursing through your body. After a few moments, Masema pulled away, running his tongue along the puncture marks to clean up any lingering blood and looking into your half lidded eyes.

“You taste divine, like you were crafted to be my favorite drug,” he murmured, cupping your cheek gently and kissing your temple. “I should reward you for sharing yourself with me.”

His other hand slipped underneath your skirt, the coolness of his touch causing you to shiver as his fingers danced along your inner thigh. He chuckled when he reached your core, feeling how wet you were already as he teased you through the fabric of your ruined underwear while you moaned softly at the contact.

”All worked up for me? Don’t worry, I will take care of you,” he said, sliding your underwear to the side and inserting two fingers into your heat, relishing in the way you gripped him tighter. There was no teasing or light touches, Masema focused on bringing you to your peak before he intended to ravage you.

The feeling of his thick fingers inside you as he sought that spot that would have you making more of your pretty noises had your eyes closing in blissful pleasure, but he wasn’t having that. He tangled the fingers of his free hand in your hair, tugging hard enough to cause you to gasp and look up at him with wide eyes.

”Eyes on me, sweet thing. I want to watch you come undone on my hand before I give you my cock,” he practically commanded, watching as your lips parted when you stuttered out a moan. You obeyed, your eyes hooded but still locked on his.

”Good girl,” he purred, those simple words being all you needed to fall over the edge. Masema relished in the way you gripped his arms and groaned his name, and he vowed he’d spend the rest of his life seeing this view of you. He finally released your hair and let you collapse back on the desk, your chest heaving as he licked his fingers clean, groaning at the taste. You cursed at how much that little action had you wanting to clean his fingers yourself, and he chuckled at your expression.

“Next time, little one. Right now, I need to be inside you,” he said as he undid his belt, sliding the black leather free the belt loops of his custom tailored dark gray slacks. He deftly wrapped the belt around your hands, leaning over you as he placed your bound wrists above your head. “Do not move your hands or I will stop. Understood?”

You nodded your response but he cocked his brow in a way that had you scrambling to answer him. “Yes sir,” you breathed out, watching as he stood straight up and undid his trousers with a grin. Your mouth watered at the sight of his erection springing free, wondering what he tasted like and how that vein would feel on your tongue. You whimpered and shimmied a bit on the wood surface, only for Masema to slap your inner thigh.

”Patience. You will take what I give you, sweet one. You will enjoy it, I promise,” he said firmly, gripping your thighs and spreading your legs further apart so he could see all of you. The underwear you wore was cute, but kept him from what he wanted so he ripped them off you. You gasped when you heard the fabric rip, but Masema didn’t give you a chance to say anything before he lined up and thrust into you, groaning at the way you felt around him.

He barely gave you a chance to adjust to his size before he gripped your hips bruisingly, setting a head spinning pace that had the desk rattling with his movements. A few pens and one of the little desk ornaments hit the ground, but that didn’t deter the vampire currently making his fantasy a reality. You couldn’t control the downright depraved sounds falling from your lips and Masema seemed wholly unconcerned if the rest of the manor could hear what you two were up too. You desperately wanted to touch him, but his warning from earlier broke through the pleasurable haze in your mind and you reached up to grip the edge of the desk, a poor attempt at keeping yourself grounded since Masema seemed determined to have you hurtling toward oblivion.

For his part, Masema could feel his control slipping. The way you looked in that moment, taking him so beautifully and the even more lovely sounds you were making had him feeling things no other woman had before. It stroked his ego, knowing that he got to see you so wrecked from his own actions. The vision you painted on his memories was better than his wildest dreams and he could feel his own climax building, but he needed to feel you finish first. One hand moved from your hip to your sensitive nub, his thumb rubbing circles at just the right speed and pressure that had your back arching off the desk and letting out a guttural groan. After one particularly harsh thrust, he felt your walls squeeze him tightly before you soaked him once more, your legs trembling beneath his large hands as he followed after you.

Masema rested his forehead on your chest, slow thrusting as you both came down from the high you both experienced. The sound of your racing heart brought a smile to his face, but you couldn’t see it with the way your eyes will still trying to come into focus from the blackout orgasm you just had. You barely registered him pulling out and untying your hands, fixing his clothes and tying his hair back into his standard topknot. Ever the gentleman, Masema helped you sit up and kissed your forehead before he went back to his work, looking much more relaxed than before.

You could feel the stickiness of your combined fluids between your thighs and you suddenly wanted to shower and freshen up, knowing you would be joining Masema for dinner out later. You stood on shaky legs, Masema reaching out to steady you before you gave him a weak smile and nod, walking slowly so you didn’t stumble on your way out of his office. He watched you with a grin, thoroughly enjoying the sight of you leaving while the skirts of your dress swayed with your steps.

Your days passed much like that, Masema being a doting and thorough lover but you couldn’t shake the feeling this was all temporary. His reputation wasn’t in line with being boyfriend material, but you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all the same. He treated you well and you enjoyed his attentions, but the thought he was like this with the previous girls always made you feel sick to your stomach. All these feelings came to a head one night at a work gala Masema took you too. It was at the estate of another vampire, this one you learned was old and very powerful. While he never told you the specifics, Masema did let you know this woman was his coven leader and a long time friend, nothing more. He introduced you to Corvina and you liked her rather instantly. She had the aura of someone who lived their truth, something you were grateful for amidst a room of shady business types only hoping to brush elbows with those above their perceived stations.

As the evening progressed, you noted the way other women in the room seemed to flock to his side and attempt to catch his eye. You weren’t one for the spotlight, so you hung back and sipped on your champagne, feeling worse with each moment you watched some lady coyly touch his arms or laugh at something he said. Your breaking point was when a pretty blonde tried kissing his cheek and you couldn’t stand to be in the ballroom anymore, so you left and found yourself standing on a balcony to get some fresh air. You leaned against the stone railing, taking some deep breaths and reeling your jealous thoughts back in. Of course you were only a fling to him, even if neither of you actually talked about or put labels on what you were. You knew it was your fault for going and catching feelings, but you didn’t know how to tell him nor did you really want to leave him. Your train of thought was interrupted by the near silent arrival of Corvina, the pale light of the moon and distant light of the ballroom illuminating her pale skin.

”You should be inside with Masema, not out here alone,” she spoke softly, looking out over the darkened grounds.

You sighed, looking over your shoulder through the large window to where Masema was in talks with a group of people, another woman standing too close to him. “I needed some air,” you whispered before looking back towards the estate.

Corvina followed your line of sight, humming in understanding before looking at you. “I see. Do you wish to talk about it?”

You weren’t sure if it was the softness of her tone or the fact she was the first person in months you could speak to about the unusual circumstances you were in, but you broke down and told her everything. Your feelings for Masema, how you felt like you were just a fling to him and how you hated not knowing what he thought of you. Sure, he showered you with compliments, but the thought he was treating you as any other woman ate at you. You hadn’t realized you had started crying until Corvina held out a handkerchief to you, which you took with a soft word of thanks and cleaned up your face.

”If I may offer you some insight, dear,” she started, leaning back against the low stone railing and crossing her arms. “I have known Masema for many, many years. I found him as a feral fledgling and took him in, raising him into the man he is today. I have watched girls come and go with him, and I never faulted him for that. We all have our vices, and pretty ladies are his. Which is why I can tell you with absolute certainty that he has never looked at one of them the way he does you. I will be having words with him for leaving you so confused as to your standing with him, but he would give you the world if you asked it of him.”

You were speechless for a minute, absorbing everything she said as the door from the ballroom opened up and Masema stepped out. You couldn’t have been gone from his side for more than half an hour, but he looked both concerned and frustrated that you had come outside alone. Corvina gently patted your back, opting to leave you two alone to have a much needed talk. As she brushed past Masema, she leveled him with a look that would have anyone shrinking away from her.

”I would encourage you to use your words here, Masema Dagar. You are undead, not unfeeling. Do better,” she said, gliding back inside while Masema had the look of a scolded boy on his face at her words. When he turned back to you, he could see the redness in your eyes and his frozen heart broke at the sight.

”What is wrong, little one? Are you hurt?” He asked, stepping closer to cradle you in his arms but you simply held your hand up to stop him.

”What are we?” You asked, crossing your arms across your stomach and willing yourself not to cry in front of him.

He looked taken back for a moment at your refusal to let him touch you, before schooling his expression and putting his hands in his pockets. “You should not have come out here alone, there are other vampires that would snatch you up,” he deflected, sighing heavily when he saw the look in your eyes harden at his answer.

You stood straighter, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes. “Do not change the subject here. Answer me honestly. What am I to you?”

”You are my woman.”

”That’s not good enough. I need you to elaborate on what that means to you. Am I your temporary bed warmer and blood bag, or am I more? Which is it?”

Masema scoffed at your response, looking around like the balcony had the answers. “What brought this on? Hm? Was it the way those women acted around me? I assure you, I did not acknowledge their advances because I am not the kind of man to do that. Jealousy is unbecoming of you, little one.”

”How would I know what kind of man you are? Judging by the way you won’t answer a simple question, perhaps I am finally seeing the man beneath the mask. Now answer my damn question. What. Are. We?” You challenged back, stepping into his space. A small part of you knew you shouldn’t be egging him on, he was still a vampire and much stronger than you, but you were tired of him skirting the issue.

His jaw ticked and nostrils flared as you glared up at him, your unique scent wafting into his nose and temporarily making him forget the tone you were addressing him in. He stared down at you after he collected himself, speaking in a low tone. “Do you think so low of me that you believe I would betray you in such a manner? Have I not treated you with the respect you deserve?”

”That is not what I am asking you, Masema. Dammit, quit avoiding the question or I will walk away right now,” you threw your hands up, exasperated at the man in front of you. Had he been any other, you wouldn’t still be standing here and arguing, but you did love Masema, as difficult and confusing as he was.

His eyes widened a fraction, the thought of you walking out of his life leaving a feeling of despair heavy in his gut. He is mind raced, trying to find the words to tell you how he felt but his throat seemed to freeze up and tongue too heavy, rendering him unable to answer you. You took his silence as confirmation to your worst fears, water gathering in your eyes as you turned to leave, but Masema was quick to stop you. Corvina’s words finally sank in for him and he decided to at least try. His arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you against his chest, dipping his head so he could speak directly into your ear.

”You wanted to know what you are to me? You are everything and I do not know how to handle it. You make me feel as though I border on madness and I cannot stand being so out of control. As for what we are…princess, whatever you want us to be is what we will be, even if commitment is not something I am good at. That I left you feeling so uncertain how I felt about you is my great shame, and if you will let me, I will make it up to you. This I swear. Just please, please, stay,” he whispered, the vulnerability in his voice melting through the anger you felt earlier. You turn to face him, seeing the softness in his eyes and you knew he was being sincere, but you needed a little more.

”Promise me you will try? I cannot know your thoughts if you don’t share them with me. And promise me you will not let another hang on you like earlier. I can’t stand that,” you spoke softly, feeling his hands cup your face as he slowly walked you backward towards the exterior wall of the manor, between the windows and the door.

”Yes, I promise. Whatever you want, anything you desire, it is yours if you wish it,” he muttered against your lips before claiming them with his own, one hand cupping the back of your head to keep you from smacking against the rough stone. You two made out right there for a few minutes before Masema decided he need to have you now, so he pulled you back into the house and through the hallways, into the study not far from the ballroom.

No sooner had you both entered the warmly lit study than Masema had you backed against the door and kissing you like a starving man. You sighed into the kiss, feeling the tips of his fangs graze your bottom lip as his hands wandered down your body.

”Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asked between kisses, his free hand reaching behind you to unzip your dress just enough to slide it and your lace bra down to expose your breasts to his wandering mouth.

”Masema, what if someone catches us?” You breathed out, making no move to stop him.

”I don’t give a fuck. Let them watch me pleasure my lady,” he growled against your skin before he wrapped his lips around your nipple, biting gently and sucking it into a hardened peak. You gasped, hands resting on his shoulder to keep your balance while his hands slipped underneath the skirts of your cocktail dress, pulling them up to unclip the garters from your stockings and slide your underwear down your legs. He released your nipple with a pop and dropped to his knees, stuffing the lace garment into his pants pocket before tenderly grabbing your ankle and lifting it to his lips.

It was erotic, watching him kiss up your leg over your stockings and place it over his shoulder. It wasn’t the first time he had gone down on you, but this time was different. It felt as if he was worshiping you, wanting to prove that he meant his words from earlier. Masema bunched your skirts at your hips, his lips slowly making their way towards your core.

All thoughts of being seen by any of wandering attendees left your mind the moment his tongue made contact with your folds, his low hum vibrating against you and causing you to moan. You went to cover your mouth with your hand in an attempt to muffle your sounds but Masema pulled back and slapped your inner thigh.

”No. Do not silence yourself. I want to hear all your pretty noises,” he said lowly, waiting until your hand returned to your side before he dove back in. You couldn’t have quieted yourself if you tried, your moans and sighs bouncing off the walls as Masema licked and sucked at you lewdly. He moved one hand from your hip to between your legs, slipping two fingers into your warmth and seeking out your sweet spot with the intention of making you cry out his name. You did so shortly afterwards, your legs shaking as he drank everything you gave him.

He stood up after you had come down and pushed his head away, wiping his mouth with his hand before gathering you into his arms to carry you over to the leather couch in front of the fireplace. He laid you down gently before removing his suit jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch before removing his pressed white shirt and placing it atop the jacket. The view of his toned chest and the evidence of his own arousal outlined in his black dress pants had your mouth watering, and he chuckled when you spread your legs almost mindlessly at the sight.

”Eager now, are we princess?” He teased, undoing his belt and button, sliding his trousers and boxers down enough to free himself. It was too risky to undress fully at the moment, but you both needed the other too much to wait. Masema climbed on top of you, kissing up your neck and across your jawline on his way to your bruised lips. He reached between you and gripped his hard cock, giving himself a few strokes before rubbing the tip through your slick, chuckling when your hips bucked and you gasped as he brushed against your sensitive nub.

He eased his thick length into you, relishing in the way your eyes fluttered and you sighed as you stretched around him. Where normally he would have set a harsh pace, he opted for slow and deep, one hand wrapping around your throat as he held your eyes with his while the other gripped the armrest. The leather creaked underneath you, Masema grunting while you moaned. You hands had been gripping his sides, unsure what to do as he normally tied you up to keep you from touching him.

“Touch me,” he whispered against your lips, humming when you immediately began mapping the contours of his torso with your soft touch. The passion built between you two, the intense but Masema releasing your throat to wrap his arm around your waist, lifting you slightly so he could leave open mouthed kisses across your throat and chest. You felt your peak building, your whines and gasps taking on a desperate edge. Masema released the armrest and leaned back a bit, reaching down to circle your bundle with his thumb.

”That’s it darling, give it to me,” he groaned, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cried out his name. It was the sweetest sound he ever heard, and the sight of you coming undone beneath him was enough to send him over as well with a stuttered gasp. You kissed each other as you both caught your breaths, Masema pulling out and pulling you into his arms as you both laid on the couch.

Even though the memory of the argument had long since faded into the recesses of your mind, Masema wanted to make sure his point came across clearly now so there was no doubt. He took one of your hands in his, placing it on his chest over his heart.

“Never doubt that this is yours, princess,” he said, entwining your fingers together and gazing at you with a softness you had not come to expect from him. You didn’t know how to respond to him, so you opted for a sweet kiss that told him of your love without voicing those words. You both laid there for a while, content to remain in the other's arms before the distant sounds of the music being played in the ballroom reminded you that Masema was here for business.

Once you had straightened up your appearances the best you could, you both walked out of the study together, arm and arm with soft smiles on your faces. When you entered the ballroom again, you saw the way the previous women seemed to gawk at Masema, but before jealousy could take root in your soul, you felt his breath fanning across your ear while his words brought a grin to your face.

”Remember princess, I am all for you.”

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