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“My mother... she was a remarkable woman. Kind and gentle, but with a strength that could rival any man’s.”
Jonathan smiled encouragingly. “She sounds wonderful. What was she like?”
“She had this way about her,” Dracula mused, his eyes distant with memory. “Grace personified. She could enter a room and command attention without saying a word. It was she whotaught me the importance of poise, of carrying oneself with dignity.”
“Did she enjoy the balls as well?” Jonathan asked.
Dracula nodded, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Oh yes. She loved to dance. I can still see her, twirling across the ballroom floor, her laughter ringing out like music.”
Jonathan’s expression turned wistful. “My own mother loved to laugh as well. She had the warmest smile you’ve ever seen. It could light up a room.”
“Tell me more about her,” Dracula encouraged, genuinely interested.
“Well,” Jonathan began, his voice soft with affection, “she wasn’t one for grand balls, but she did love to sing. Every evening, she’d sit by the fire and sing old folk songs. And her hugs...” He paused, swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat. “Her hugs could make you feel like everything in the world was right, even when it wasn’t.”
Dracula’s hand tightened slightly on Jonathan’s waist, a gesture of comfort. “She sounds like a truly wonderful mother.”
Jonathan nodded, blinking back tears. “She was. I admit I rarely think of my father, and when I do, a lot of anger follows it, but my mother. I’m almost surprised that I can still speak fondly of her. Despite everything, I still miss her terribly.”
“Mother is God in the eyes of a child,” Dracula said softly.
Dracula jerked Jonathan about and whirled about the room as if to shake him from his melancholic thoughts. Their dance became less structured and more playful. They teased and bantered, their bodies drawing closer with each turn. Finally, unable to resist any longer, Dracula pulled Jonathan close and kissed him.
It was a sweet, tender kiss, far removed from the passionate encounters they had shared before. In that moment, surrounded by candlelight and silence, Dracula felt something stir within him - a warmth he had thought long extinct.
As they parted, both slightly breathless, Jonathan smiled up at him. “Well, Count,” he said softly, “it seems you’re a natural at modern romance as well.”
Dracula chuckled, pulling Jonathan close once more. “Perhaps,” he murmured, “or perhaps I simply have an excellent teacher.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
As the haunting melody faded away, Jonathan and Dracula remained locked in their embrace, swaying gently in the center of the grand ballroom. The candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across their entwined forms. Dracula’s eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at Jonathan, their bodies pressed tightly together. The warmth that had stirred within him now burst into a full-blown inferno, consuming all rational thought. He wanted Jonathan, needed him with an intensity that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
“You are exquisite,” Dracula murmured, his voice a low rumble. He leaned down, capturing Jonathan’s lips in a fierce kiss. Theirtongues clashed, dancing together in a wild, passionate tango that left them both breathless.
Dracula’s hands roamed over Jonathan’s body, tracing the lines of his muscles and the curves of his hips. He could feel the young man’s heart racing, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He wanted to draw out this moment, to tease and tantalize, but his own desire was too great.
He lifted Jonathan off the ground with a swift, fluid movement, pinning him against the wall. Jonathan gasped, his eyes widening in surprise and excitement. He could feel Dracula’s hard length pressing against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body.
Dracula’s mouth moved to Jonathan’s neck, his fangs grazing the sensitive skin. He could hear the young man’s pulse quickening and could smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of his blood. But he held back, not wanting to hurt Jonathan or take more than he could give.
Instead, he focused on the sensation of their bodies moving together, the dance of their lovemaking. He ground his hips against Jonathan’s, their cocks straining against the confines of their pants. The fabric was rough and restrictive, a barrier that Dracula quickly grew impatient with.
With a growl of frustration, he set Jonathan down, his hands moving to the young man’s pants. He tore at the fabric, ripping it away with inhuman strength. Jonathan’s cock sprang free, hard and ready, and Dracula couldn’t resist the urge to take it in his mouth.
Jonathan cried out, his fingers tangling in Dracula’s inky black locks as the Count’s lips wrapped around his shaft. Dracula’s tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, his mouth working in a steady, rhythmic motion that had Jonathan writhing in pleasure.
Dracula’s mouth worked expertly, drawing out a gasp from deep within Jonathan. The Count’s tongue teased the sensitive tip, coaxing a bead of pre-cum from Jonathan’s body. Dracula pulled back slightly, opening his mouth to allow the slick saliva and Jonathan’s precum to drip onto his fingers. He then reached around, using the slick fluid to gently coat Jonathan’s hole before slipping his finger inside. Jonathan’s breath hitched as Dracula’s finger entered him, the sudden intrusion sending a shockwave of pleasure through his body. He clung to Dracula’s shoulders, his nails digging into the fabric of the Count’s shirt, as he was slowly and expertly prepared. Dracula’s mouth never left Jonathan’s cock, his tongue and lips working in tandem with his finger, drawing out moans that echoed through the empty ballroom.
Dracula looked up at Jonathan, his dark eyes filled with lust and hunger. He added another finger, stretching and scissoring, his movements deliberate and tantalizingly slow. Jonathan’s hips bucked, seeking more friction, more contact, but Dracula held him firmly, controlling the pace, building the tension.
“Please,” Jonathan begged, his voice a ragged whisper. “Please, I need... I need more.”
Dracula smiled, a slow, sensual curve of his lips that promised untold pleasures. He withdrew his fingers, leaving Jonathan feeling empty and desperate. But not for long.
He wanted to feel Jonathan, to be inside him, to claim him completely. He stood up, his own pants disappearing in a flash of movement. He lifted Jonathan again, this time wrapping the young man’s legs around his waist, and with a single, powerful thrust, he entered Jonathan, their bodies joining together in a dance as old as time itself. Jonathan gasped, his nails digging into Dracula’s shoulders as he adjusted to the sensation of being filled so completely.
Dracula began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady, sensual rhythm. He pinned Jonathan to the wall, his hands gripping the young man’s thighs, his eyes locked onto Jonathan’s face. He wanted to see every expression, every gasp, every moan of pleasure.
