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austinbutlerslovers · 3 days ago

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The Hunt

Label Mature 18+

🔗 Blood Bound Sequel

Summary Invited to a mysterious banquet after being secretly initiated by Austin Butler, you arrive at a grand, secluded manor alongside dozens of other women, all drawn by the promise of a lucrative career.

However, as the night unfolds, the glamour gives way to a darker purpose when you slowly come to the horrifying realization that you and the other women are not merely guests at this lavish banquet —you are the main course.

🚨Depraved Smut 🚨 drugged with aphrodisiac • fed to appease the pallet of a vampire •hunted• bitten•taken by force • held against will•mentally manipulated • vulnerable• mind spell•breast play •breast bitten•blood exchange •orgasm bonding • blood bonding•vampire feeding during orgasm•creampie•forever his 🔗 Masterlist

Special Thanks @thejoywillburnoutthepain 🥵 Mentions of blood 🩸 Mentions of needle for IV 💉

The Hunt

You awaken in your dim apartment, the early morning light barely filtering through the curtains. Everything feels wrong—as though something essential has been drained from your veins. You pull your robe tighter, fingers trembling as you reach for your phone, squinting at the screen seeing a string of missed calls from your agent and a few urgent texts.

You tap to dial him back, your heart a confused mess, torn between the remnants of a surreal dream—were Austin was drinking your blood—and the dawning, realization that it wasn’t a dream at all. The phone rings only once before your agent answers, his voice vibrating with enthusiasm.

“Darling, you were absolutely incredible last night!” He gushes, practically tripping over his words. “I don’t know what you did, but everyone is talking about you. You’ve been personally requested for an exclusive event at the end of the month. I mean, the event, the kind that cements your name. So, listen carefully—no work, no public outings, and absolutely no partying until then. This could be the break we’ve been waiting for.”

His words hang in the air, dreamlike and surreal, as if your agent is talking about someone else. You’re about to question him when he adds as an afterthought, “Oh, and a nurse is on her way to check on you. She’ll be there any minute now.”

“A nurse?” You ask the confusion in your voice warranted, but he’s already hung up, leaving you in a whirlpool of disbelief. You barely have time to process his words before the intercom buzzes, announcing the nurses arrival and with hesitant fingers, you press the button, the beep echoing through your empty apartment as you let her in.

Moments later, the nurse appears at your doorway, her presence chillingly professional. Dressed in severe black from head to toe, her demeanor is as icy as her expression.

Without a word, she unpacks an IV bag with your name labeled on the packaging, hanging it with mechanical precision. “Your arm, please,” she says, her voice devoid of warmth.

You extend it hesitantly, feeling her cold fingers brush against your skin. “What is this for?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly as she aligns the needle with a prominent vein.

“Your hemoglobin nourishment,” she replies, offering no further explanation.

The sharp prick of the needle is more than a sting; it’s an ache that deepens, spreading an unsettling warmth through your arm. You wince but say nothing as the needle settles into place, watching as a crimson liquid flows into your vein with an almost hypnotic steadiness.

While you wait for the IV to finish, she hands you a list of dietary restrictions—foods you are allowed and foods you are to avoid.

Scanning the list, you notice odd details such as no lactose and —“Vegan cheese pizza?” you mutter out loud with a confused look on your face despite yourself.

“These are the requirements for the party,” she replies coldly her face a blank mask.

A chill slips down your spine. “Party of vampires?” You say gaining an understanding of the situation.

For the first time, her icy facade cracks. “Vampires don’t exist,” she says, but there’s a smirk at the edge of her lips, her eyes glinting as though she knows a secret she’ll never tell.

In the weeks that follow you quickly regain your strength feeling better than ever. As you become accustomed to your new found energy Austin’s face seems to haunt every corner of your life, glowing and youthful in every premiere, every Q&A every television interview.

His charisma practically leaps from the screen but theres something unsettling about his expression, something painfully familiar—the way he speaks his words, the light in his eyes, even the way he tilts his head as he laughs, his giddiness and curiosity an exact replica of your own and you realize with sickening clarity he’s taken far more than your blood, he’s captured your very essence.

When the end of the month arrives, a black limousine pulls up outside your building. The driver, silent and stoic, holds the door open for you, offering no answers as you settle in for the long, winding journey. As the city fades away, you’re taken through dense woods, the road winding tighter, the shadows thicker until finally, an immense, sprawling mansion looms on the horizon.

The manor is a striking blend of gothic elegance and timeless luxury. Stone and iron dominate its towering structure, with shadowed turrets reaching skyward toward the glowing full moon.

A beautifully landscaped driveway winds around a grand, illuminated fountain, the water cascading in perfect symmetry, adding an unexpected touch of serenity to the imposing estate.

Sleek black limousines pull up in a steady procession, coming to a stop along the curved driveway at the front of the manor. Drivers in crisp uniforms step out to open the doors, their movement precise and rehearsed.

As you step out, other young women emerge from their own limousines, each one casting bewildered glances at the manor. You recognize some of them—fellow actresses, models, internet celebrities, women you’ve seen on magazine covers, television screens, and countless social media apps. Each one looks as dazed and unsure as you feel.

Women clad in black stand vigil at the entrance of the mansion, their expressions as severe and unyielding as the nurse who first visited you.

Each one steps forward, assigned to their guest. Yours approaches with a sharp, assessing gaze, gesturing for you to follow. Her movements are smooth as she maintains an unwavering silence leading you into the mansion.

Your steps echo through the cavernous entryway, the weight of the place pressing in on you as she leads you down a corridor into a private wing.

Each turn is disorienting, the cold marble floors polished to a mirror sheen, reflecting the dim lighting. Dark, arched doorways line the halls, each one closed, each one a mystery.

You feel his presence before you see him—a faint tightening in your chest, a pounding in your veins. Austin is here— his presence a prickling unease slipping beneath your skin as you walk, his essence saturating every inch of your body, pulling at you, drawing you forward.

Your heart races as you reach the end of the corridor where a massive door stands, and you know, just beyond, it he’s waiting.

The woman pushes open the heavy door, and you step into an empty room adorned only by a large, lavishly made bed and a mix of antique decadent furniture of dark wood.

Shadows play in the corners of the room between the draped windows as you inspect each one, thinking you will discover Austin.

Anxiety prickles along your skin as you peer into the grand bathroom, fingers skimming the cold marble of the sink knowing he is here somewhere just out of sight.

The woman, now standing near the door, interrupts your search.

“You have followed your dietary requirements precisely?” She asks her voice steady, her eyes sharp.

“Yes…” you answer, a hint of uncertainty in your tone as you turn back to her, watching as she pulls a strange outfit from the armoire—black leggings, a matching sports top, lightweight zipper jacket, and a pair of tennis shoes.

Confused, you accept the clothing with a question, “Are we exercising?”

The faintest smile flickers across her lips, more unsettling than reassuring.

“Please put on your attire so that I may escort you to the banquet,” she says, her tone quick and precise, offering no further explanation as she turns to leave the room.

A chill settles over you, intensifying when the door thuds shut. The creeping sense of unease thickening, making you question just what you’ve stepped into.

Once you are dressed, the woman enters the room as if she had been waiting just beyond the door.

Her sharp eyes sweep over you, assessing your appearance with an air of cold detachment. Satisfied, she gestures for you to follow her.

The journey through the winding corridors feels like a maze, the dimly lit hallways stretching endlessly.

The ornate surroundings of rich tapestries, heavy curtains, and intricate carvings do little to ease the nervousness growing in your chest.

Finally, she stops before a set of grand double doors, their surfaces carved with an ancient, intricate, almost hypnotic pattern.

She pushes them open with surprising ease, revealing the banquet hall beyond. The golden light spilling out is warm, but it does nothing to soothe the dread pooling in your stomach.

Inside, the banquet hall is filled with the other women, all dressed in identical workout sets. Your stomach twists at the sight, a foreboding knot tightening as you scan the room, the giddiness on some of their faces unsettling in contrast to the dread settling over you.

The only man in the room steps forward in a pristine black suit. He has an authoritative air, his cold gaze sweeping over you all as a bell rings, pulling everyone’s attention to him.

“Please be seated,” he commands, voice devoid of warmth. Some of the women practically bounce with excitement, as if they’re at a themed event, but you can’t shake the gnawing sensation that every move, every breath is being watched.

You take your seat as covered dishes are placed in front of each guest. You can’t hide your surprise as a servant lifts the silver lid to reveal a simple peanut butter jelly sandwich on an ornate plate.

Around the table, other girls find similarly strange items, childish meals of nostalgia on elaborate dishes, and excited whispers start to spread across the room.

The young actress beside you rolls her eyes. “It must his favorite.” She mutters.

“Whose favorite?” you ask, blinking in confusion.

She tilts her head with a look at you that’s almost pitying. “The one you belong to.” She says rhetorically.

The words drop like a stone in your chest, the realization hitting heavy as a dreadful connection forms in your mind.

“Ladies, you may begin eating your meals,” the man in the suit announces —clearly the host of the evening, his gaze sweeps over you all, cold and watchful.

Reluctantly, you eat a few bites of the sand which until your stomach churns and you set it down.

Servants enter through the room, placing goblets beside each guest. The liquid is thick and black, a shimmering swirl of gold catching the dim light.

Giving it an easy look you whisper to the servant as he places it. “What exactly is this?”

The servant merely bows and moves on, ignoring your question entirely.

The host checks his watch, then lifts his hand. “Drink from the goblets entirely,” he says in a tone that garners no defiance. “Then you are to continue with your meal.”

The last thing you want is to drink the mysterious black liquid, but under the sharp, watchful eyes of the host and the female attendants, and the exclusivity of the event, you reluctantly take the goblet to your lips.

The liquid is sweet like honey, coating your throat as you drain the glass.

As soon as you set it down, a warmth begins to spread through you, intensifying with each passing second. Your breath quickens, lips parting as you feel a tingling feeling in your core. Your thighs press together involuntarily, feeling a pulsing ache that refuses to subside in you, as an overwhelming sense of desire floods your body.

“What the hell…” the actress gasps beside you, her voice shaky. She presses her hands to her flushed cheeks, eyes wide in startled excitement.

“Oh my god,” another sighs, leaning back with a blissed-out laugh as her hands glide along the tablecloth. All around you, the women are reacting, some whispering breathlessly, others laughing, touching their own arms, their skin hypersensitive to every touch.

A horrifying realization dawns—you’ve been drugged, and aroused, prepared as prey. Panic grips you as you push back from the table, the lustful haze battling the panicked need to escape.

You’re not the only one; a few other women understand and leave their seats, with terror flashing in their eyes as they scramble for the doors, pulling at them in desperation but the doors are locked tight.

The host watches, a smirk playing on his face as he presses a button. “No need to be in such a hurry ladies,” he says smoothly, and the glass doors along the far wall slide open, revealing the sprawling grounds outside. “The best one to hide will receive a reward beyond her wildest dreams.” He says.

Before the words even fully register, the room erupts with excited screams, the young women spilling out into the night, each one believing they’re part of some elaborate game.

Your heart pounds as you glance at the host one last time, his smile lingering as he watches you. With a shudder, you bolt out with the others, adrenaline flooding your veins.

Outside, the manor has an endless expanse of trees and dense gardens. You sprint, weaving past hedges and statues, your heart racing as you search for cover. The moonlight glows faintly over the grounds as rows of marble statues and manicured flowerbeds appear briefly as you run, disappearing into the shadows with the other women behind you. You push forward, darting between archways and tall hedges, searching desperately for a place to hide.

Spotting a small stone gazebo, you dart inside, pressing yourself against the cold, damp stone as you strain to catch your breath. The night is filled with the sound of footsteps, voices calling, and laughter echoing in the dark.

Suddenly, the crunch of gravel and the rustle of leaves grow louder near you, impossibly close. Your chest heaves as you listen intently, hoping the shadows will conceal you.

You freeze as you hear a girl nearby, her voice high-pitched and excited as she talks to someone. “There you are,” a male voice responds, his tone carrying an unsettling mix of eagerness and satisfaction.

You press yourself harder against the stone, your pulse pounding in your ears as you try to stay silent, your every muscle tense with dread.

Peeking around the corner you freeze in horror as you watch the girl being cornered by a familiar face—Timothee Chalamet, his grin almost playful as he closes in on her, eyes glinting with an unnatural hunger in the moonlight.

She giggles as he grabs her, his mouth descending to her neck, and you’re frozen, watching as he drinks from her. She moans in pleasure her body weakening in his arms as he guides her to the floor, then he turns to another man who appears from the shadows— one of Hollywood’s older stars, an actor you recognize instantly, though his name frustratingly escapes you.

“Isn’t this fun?” Timothee grins at him, wiping his mouth with a satisfied sigh.

The older actor chuckles darkly his voice filled with amusement, “The enhancement makes them taste so much richer. It’s intoxicating—almost impossible to stop once you start.” He reveals.

Timothee laughs a sharp, delighted sound, and the two slip away into the shadows, searching for their next victim.

Your stomach turns, revulsion and terror twisting within you as more screams and laughter split the night, the other girls becoming prey in a twisted hunt.

Frantically, you glance around the gazebo, hands groping along the stone ledges until your fingers close around a piece of jagged iron, part of the gazebo’s old railing. You grip it tightly as desperation flares in your chest realizing this is your only weapon.

Holding your breath, you peek out, eyes darting as shadows flicker between the trees, figures moving with inhuman grace. With trembling hands, you press yourself deeper into the shadows, clutching your makeshift weapon and praying that you’ll find a way out of this nightmare.

When your surrounding quiet you exit the gazebo with trembling steps, heart pounding as you make your way to the girl laying on the cold ground. You kneel beside her, pressing two fingers to her neck. Her pulse is weak but steady, her skin deathly pale, her breaths shallow—she’s alive, but only barely.

You glance around, the sounds of distant laughter and haunting cries echoing through the night in a terrifying symphony. Shadows slip between the trees, vampire silhouettes stalking their remaining prey. You have to move before you’re discovered, but as you rise to your feet, you feel a familiar presence.

A heavy silence settles around you, and your pulse thunders in your ears.

You turn, already knowing who you’ll see.

Austin stands just a few feet away, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. There’s a wildness in him, something dangerous simmering beneath his calm, poised exterior, and yet he doesn’t advance. He watches you, chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths, his gaze intense.

“Austin…please ” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath, the mingling of fear and yearning twisting in your stomach.

His eyes never leave yours as he grins, a flicker of joy in their depths, genuinely excited to see you.

You raise the spike of iron, gripping it tightly to keep him at a distance, but it doesn’t stop him from stepping closer, his movements slow, savoring the moment.

“I told myself I wouldn’t get attached,” he says, his grin slipping, almost painfully. “But you…” He reaches for you and when you lift the iron spike, his eyes softens. “I want you more than anything.”

He gestures for you to drop your weapon, and your hand releases it involuntarily, the iron piece clattering to the dirt as you struggle to maintain control over your own movements.

You can feel his power, a subtle, unbreakable hold, allowing you only the faintest control as he tries to override your will to bend you to his command

“Let me go,” you plead, your voice trembling. “Please! You don’t have to do this, Austin.”

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, as though his mind is too clouded to make the decision clearly.

Then his eyes open, his gaze is sharper, darker and filled with barely restrained hunger.

“Let me taste you ,” he rasps his, voice low and dangerous. “I need to have you again … .” He says stepping closer, his eyes locking onto yours, pulling you into their depths.

“They’ve enhanced you,” he reveals, his voice softening briefly as his eyes lock onto your neck. “Your blood, your essence… it’s perfect now. Perfect for me. It’s like you were made for me.” His tone shifts, the restraint in his voice desperate as he steps even closer. “And I need you more than you could ever understand.”

The weight of his presence fills the space between you, magnetic and terrifying, yet impossible to resist.

Your heart stammers as his words settle over you, your pulse hammering wildly in your veins. “Please just… just let me live,” you whisper, your voice barely audible from the panic rising within.

A smile curves his lips at your willingness, and he closes the distance in an instant, his fingers trailing down to your neck, where your pulse beats frantically.

“My sweetest one,” he whispers, his voice soft and possessive and you’re trapped in his gaze, the world shrinking to just the two of you.

“I could never take your life,” he says softly, his voice laced with a dark promise that makes your breath catch as his mouth descends to your neck.

His breath is warm and intimate against your skin as his teeth graze your pulse point, and then, with a groan of satisfaction, he sinks his fangs in.

A shock of pain mingles with a rush of pleasure that pulses through your entire body.

Your senses are overwhelmed as the sharp sting fades into an intoxicating warmth that spreads through you, a sensation that is both terrifying and thrilling, igniting something deep within you that you can neither resist nor fully understand.

You grip his arms, your nails digging in as you pant, feeling every beat of your heart push against his hold, against the intensity with which he drinks from you.

His moan vibrates against your skin, his hands gripping you tighter as he drinks, each pull making your pulse thrum in your ears with a heightened, feverish ache.

Your eyelids flutter as a euphoric haze settles over you and he draws from you even deeper, his strength growing with your every heartbeat.

He’s becoming too powerful, his moans vibrating against your skin, his bite intense and consuming. It’s overwhelming, and instinctively, you claw at his arms, your body writhing as the need to break free grows.

But he’s relentless, his grip tightening as he drinks deeper, the pull of his hunger making you whimper against him, helpless under the force of his need.

Your head grows light, the night spinning around you in a haze of heat and shadows. The pounding of your heartbeat in your ears begins to slow, muffled and distant, your limbs growing heavy and unresponsive.

You try to speak, to push him away, but the energy to resist has completely diminished, leaving you weightless in his grasp, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

Your breaths become shallow, each one a struggle as your vision blurs at the edges, fading into darkness.

—You promised me— is the only thought that lingers in your mind, a faint, desperate echo, as you begin to fall unconscious.

He continues to drink from you, each pull drawing you closer to the brink. Your vision dims, the edges fading into a consuming blackness. Your pulse becomes faint and your body weakens to the point of slipping away.

—I will always keep my promise— he finally transfers in to your mind and as the world falls away his presence anchors you, his words threading through the haze with an almost comforting certainty.

Your body grows limp, the last remnants of strength fading as a strange warmth envelops you, soothing you into an inevitable surrender as your mind fades to black.

Somewhere, deep within the void, a whisper of acceptance rises—silent, unspoken, but clear and you let go, giving in to him, to his promise, to the connection that feels inevitable as the darkness swallows you whole.

Your mind swims in a haze, the darkness giving way to the faintest flicker of light as your consciousness slowly returns.

You realize you are in an ornate bathroom, the air fragrant with hints of vanilla and orange blossom. The sound of water trickling fills your ears, and a warmth surrounds you—comforting, soothing. Your head lolls to the side, and through the blur, you see Austin kneeling beside the large, clawfoot tub you’re submerged in, his hands carefully guiding warm water over your skin.

“You were so cold,” he reveals, his voice low and tender, tinged with something that sounds almost like worry. His gaze is intense, his movements gentle as he brushes damp strands of hair from your face.

Your lips part, but your voice is barely audible. “What… what happened?”

He hesitates, his jaw tightening briefly before his expression softens again. “Your blood was so sweet… so perfect,” he admits, his voice low, almost reverent. “I almost drank too much—almost let you slip away.” His tone is steady but quiet, carrying the weight of his regret. “I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t lose you.” He says with conviction, his eyes locking onto yours ensuring you understand the depth of his promise.

The words tug at your memory, fragments of his voice in your mind, but everything feels fractured, out of reach. You blink up at him, still dazed, the warm water cradling your weak body.

“I feel… heavy,” you whisper, your voice faint, every word an effort.

“Shh,” he soothes, his hands skimming the water as he washes away the remnants of blood from your neck and shoulders. “Don’t try to talk. Just rest. Let me take care of you.”

The heat of the water lulls you further, your mind drifting in and out of focus. You hardly register when he carefully lifts you from the tub, his strong arms cradling you as if you weigh nothing. The cool air brushes your damp skin as he carries you to a chaise lounge draped in dark velvet.

He lays you down gently, his hands precise as he removes the towel wrapped around you. “Stay still,” he murmurs, reaching for a thick, soft blanket. He guides it over you, his touch firm but comforting as he wraps it around your body.

Your gaze flickers toward him, confusion clouding your thoughts. “Why… why are you doing this?” You ask.

He pauses for a moment, his hands lingering at your shoulder where the blanket rests. “Because you’re mine to protect,” he answers, his voice steady, but there’s a depth to it, an emotion he doesn’t fully show.

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he stands and begins to undress, his movements unhurried, deliberate. His shirt falls away, revealing the lean, chiseled planes of his torso. His pants follow, and then he steps into the shower. The sound of water cascading fills the room, and despite the fog in your mind, your gaze lingers on him. The water runs down his perfect form, tracing the contours of his back, his muscles shifting with every movement.

Your breaths are shallow, the weakness in your body anchoring you in place.

“You’re… so beautiful ,” you whisper faintly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

He glances over his shoulder, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re delirious, you need rest,” he says gently, his tone amused yet soft.

When he finishes, he dries off quickly, the towel wrapped low on his hips as he steps toward you. Then, without hesitation, he drops it, standing bare and unashamed as he picks you up in his arms once again.

His skin is warm, the faint scent of soap clinging to him as he carries you into the dimly lit bedroom.

The bed is massive, draped in dark silks and accented with ornate carvings. He lays you down gently, adjusting the blanket around you. His movements are precise as he sets up an IV, his fingers deftly working to place the needle in your arm.

You flinch slightly at the prick, your eyes fluttering open fully to meet his. “What are you doing?”

“We need to replenish your blood,” he explains, his voice calm but firm. “This will help you recover your strength.”

Your gaze flickers over him, taking in the softness in his eyes, the way he moves with gentle urgency.

He looks at you, his expression softening. “Rest now” he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I need you stronger.”

The weight of exhaustion pulls at you again, and as your eyes drift shut, his voice lingers, soothing and steady. “You’re safe with me.”

You awaken slowly, the heaviness in your body gone, replaced by a strange sense of strength. As you sit up in the massive bed, the silky sheets slip from your skin and you realize you’re completely naked.

The room is dimly lit, luxurious and unfamiliar, and a sense of disorientation washes over you realizing you have no idea where you are—or even what time it is.

Your eyes fall to a tray covered with an ornate silver cover sitting on the bedside table. Instantly, you reach out and lift the lid to reveal a peanut butter sandwich, a bar of dark chocolate, and a chilled bottle of almond milk.

A famished hunger gnaws at you inside and you waste no time, devouring the sandwich entirely, swallowing the almond milk in quick gulps, and finishing the chocolate bar in a few eager bites. The food satisfies the deep hunger within you, grounding you slightly, though questions still swirl in your mind.

Just as you set the empty bottle back down, a sudden chill prickles at the back of your neck, and you freeze. You sense him before you see him—a shift in the air, making your pulse quicken.

Austin climbs onto the bed behind you, his blue eyes glinting with a predatory edge, and though his expression is calm, there’s an undeniable intensity radiating from him that sends a shiver through

He’s naked, just like you, his presence commanding and intimate, and your heart races at the sight of him.

“You’re awake. That’s good,” he says closing the distance between you. “You’re stronger now. You’ve healed faster than I expected.”

Your breath hitches, and instinctively, you shift back against the headboard, suddenly hyper-aware of your vulnerability.

“Austin…” you whisper, a flicker of fear returning as you see the hunger in his eyes. “You’re going to… you’re going to drink from me again, aren’t you?”

A small, smile touches his lips. “You already know the answer to that,” he replies, his tone calm, almost soothing.

Panic grips you, and you throw off the blanket, attempting to leave the bed. But he moves faster than you can comprehend his arm wrapping around your waist, strong and unyielding as he pulls you back down onto the bed.

You struggle, your hands pushing against his chest, your breath coming in shallow gasps. “Let me go!” you cry, but his voice cuts through the chaos, low and commanding.

“Look at me,” he says, cupping your face and forcing your eyes to meet his. His gaze holds yours, steady and penetrating. “We share blood now,” he says

“I can feel it in you,” he continues, his voice dropping lower, rich and intimate, his eyes never leaving yours. “Your heart races for me, your body answers to me, and you can deny it all you want… but you can’t fight what’s already inside you.” His words wrap around you like a spell, powerful and inescapable, pulling you deeper into his control.

“It binds us completely, stronger than anything you could understand,” he reveals, his voice a dark promise as his fingers trail down the side of your neck, lingering just above your pulse point reminding you of his hunger.

As his words seep into your mind, they lull you into a sense of surrender, the tension in your body loosening against your will.

Your breath slows, your resolve faltering as his presence overtakes your will.

His gaze intensifies watching the shift in you as a slow knowing smile spreads across his lips. His eyes seem to pierce through you, pulling at the deepest, most hidden parts of your mind, leaving you completely exposed for him.

A warmth begins to unfurl in your core, spreading through your body like fire. Your pulse quickens from an undeniable growing arousal that steals your breath and leaves you helpless against him.

A soft, involuntary moan escapes your lips, and his eyes flash with satisfaction, his grip tightening as he pulls you closer.

“There she is,” he rasps, his voice low and reverent, filled with a dark tenderness. “My sweetest one.”

He lifts you effortlessly, guiding you up into his arms before settling you back down, his body pressing intimately against yours as he moves between your legs.

The coldness of his skin against yours is intoxicating, his presence overwhelming as his hands slide along your hips, holding you close.

“You feel it again don’t you?” he whispers his voice a dark mix of tenderness and hunger. “I’ve craved you—every part of you. And now that you’re mine, I’ll never let you go.”

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours, slow and deliberate, claiming you completely. His kiss is deep and unrelenting, sending surges of pleasure racing through your body, his hands grounding you and binding you to him all at once.

His lips trail lower, his kisses grazing the sensitive skin of your neck then your collarbone, before descending to your breast.

His hands slide down, caressing your supple flesh with a slowness that sets every nerve on fire.

He scrapes his fang against your hardened nipple and a gasp escapes you as your back arch’s instinctively. Your hips push up as you whine your body already anticipating what’s next and he eagerly bites down on your breast.

The sharpness of his fangs blends with an overwhelming wave of pleasure, the sensation so arousing it draws a moan from deep within you.

Your hips press upward again, the wetness between your legs sliding against him, driving both of you into a fevered state. His moan vibrates against your skin, his mouth still on your breast as he tastes not just your blood but your growing pleasure.

“My favored one,” he rasps, his voice low and reverent, filled with a dark tenderness as he pulls back slightly.

His tongue teases the small wounds before he brings his lips to yours. “Taste yourself,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with dark satisfaction.

His mouth presses to yours, and the metallic tang of your blood mingles between you, stirring something feral within him.

Your heart pounds as he pulls back, his dark eyes gleaming. “Now that youre mine,” he says, “It’s only fair you taste me too.”

Before you can respond, he tilts his head, exposing his neck. With deliberate slowness, he drags a sharp nail across his skin, releasing a thin line of blood that glistens in the dim light. “Drink,” he commands softly, his voice thick with need.

Your lips meet his neck, your tongue darting out to taste him. The moment his blood touches your tongue, a wave of heat and power floods through you, the sensation so overwhelming that you moan against his skin. “That’s it,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you closer. “Feel it… feel us.”

The intensity rises as he pushes his cock into you, his body perfectly aligned with yours, his thrusts deep and claiming.

His blood surges through you, blending with your own, binding you in a way that feels inescapable, eternal. “You’re everything,” he rasps, his voice rough and thick with emotion. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. There is no one else, nothing else.”

His hands grip your wrists possessively pulling them over your head as his thrusts grow deeper, more passionate. His strength overwhelms you, his cock pushing into you with perfect precision, each thrust sending shockwaves through your core.

His hands tangle in your hair pulling your head back, as a soft cry escapes your lips, and he lowers his mouth to your neck, his fangs grazing your pulse as his voice seeps into your mind. Come for me sweetest one….Give me everything.

His fingers slide down, finding your sensitive clit nestled between your thighs, moving in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. The pressure is unbearable, the sensation so intense that your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving faint marks on his skin.

“Austin!” you gasp, your voice trembling as the coil inside you tightens beyond control. He responds with a groan of satisfaction, his finger pressing into your clit, his thrusts driving deeper, pulling sounds from you that you didn’t know you could make.

Your body tenses as the sensations peak, and together, you both come, his fangs sinking into your neck again as you orgasm , your cries mixing with his groans.

The connection between you burns brighter than anything you’ve ever felt, his blood and yours mingling together, his release and yours merging in a perfect, primal harmony.

His mouth moves against your neck, savoring the taste of your blood as his fingers continue to work their magic on your clit, drawing your pleasure higher and higher creating more sweet blood for him to drink.

Your body begins to weaken, the intensity of his bite and the pleasure merging into something that leaves you lightheaded and disoriented. Just as you feel yourself slipping too far, his fangs retract, and he pulls back with a gasp, his lips red with your blood. He tilts your jaw up with his hand as his tongue tenderly licks over the marks on your neck, soothing the faint sting.

“So perfect,” he praises, his voice filled with satisfaction and restraint. His eyes meet yours, heavy with a mix of desire and control. “I could have taken more… but I won’t. Not until your stronger.” He reveals and kisses your neck softly, his breath warm against your skin.

As the waves of ecstasy subside, his lips tenderly brush your neck, his voice barely above a whisper. “You will never need anything else now because you are mine.” He confesses.

His words seep into you, sending a ripple through your very being. You feel it—this connection, this pull—as if every part of you is no longer your own, as though your blood aligns in harmony with his.

Your mind races, grasping at the edges of what your life was before this moment—your ambitions, your plans, your identity. It feels distant now, like a faded memory compared to the vivid, all-consuming presence of him.

How did it this happen? You ask yourself and as you remember, your heart pounds understanding there is no going back.

Beneath the fear, you feel stronger, more alive than you ever have, as if the pieces of your fractured world have rearranged themselves into something new. Something terrifyingly inevitable.

I’m not the same anymore, you think, a shiver running through you at the realization —I’ll never be the same again.

His gaze holds yours, unrelenting and filled with something deeper as the warmth of his thoughts pulses through you, filling every corner of your mind.

You’re mine now, completely just as I am yours. There is no going back … but you wouldn’t want to, would you? His grin widens, the intensity of his presence filling you as his words vibrate through your thoughts, binding you further, the connection growing deeper, consuming you entirely.

You’ve already changed, the reality settling over you like a dark, undeniable truth.

You don’t want to escape it—you don’t want to escape him. You know now, with every beat of your heart, you are his, as much as he is yours, and you will never leave him again.

🩸 END 🩸

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