Princes of the Undead

Part 43

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The road to hell is paved with good intentions, by contrast the floor between the door of their hotel suite and their king-sized bed, was paved with hastily discarded clothing.

"I thought you wanted to get some sleep?" Agatha moaned as Dracula's mouth latched onto her neck, sucking her skin into his mouth roughly enough to leave livid marks on a mortal, but on a vampire leaving only pink imprints that would fade in a few hours.

"Later..." Later, Dracula continued to mouth the word into her skin as his hands roamed down the plains of her back; lifting an unprotesting Agatha into his arms, growling as her legs wrapped snugly around his hips.

It didn't seem real what they had done, that they hadn't gotten away with it, their enemy as good as slain and a new, worthier target in their sights; it was enough to get his blood pumping...figuratively speaking. Fighting and fucking had once been his way of life, one that Dracula had been forced to supress under the veneer of being a respected member of the Elder community. Fucking his beloved Agatha had been enough to take the edge of that violent craving, but there really was no substitute for combining a victory and sex.

There was also nothing like seeing his beloved finally show her fangs.

Dracula had always known that Agatha had a strain of wickedness within her, a ruthlessness towards her enemies that she had spent years suppressing with prayer and good deeds, and she had been able to rid herself it entirely. He had seen it in her approach to countering him onboard the Demeter, how she hadn't paused except to gloat before setting him alight, that she wouldn't shy away from blowing the ship up, including Captain Sokolov, if it meant she took him with her.

To see Agatha finally tap into that power, to use it for their benefit, against their shared enemies...well it was a wonder Dracula had waited long enough to get back to the hotel suite to ravage her; it had been touch and go when they had dumped their clothing into the river, it had certainly been uncomfortable trying to pull on a pair of trousers whilst hard, yet somehow Dracula had managed.

"I am going to make you scream." He hissed, dumping them both onto the large king-size bed, whilst kicking off those damn trousers. "I'm going to make you beg."

Bouncing on the well sprung mattress, Agatha couldn't help but giggle at the look on her lover's face as he finally stripped down, only biting her lip when the look he shot her was somewhere between disbelief and feral lust.

"Do you doubt that I can beloved?"

Mutely shaking her head Agatha tried her best to appear penitent, Dracula was clearly not in the mood to be poked at...well not in any humorous way. If he were anyone else Agatha would have called him out...well if he were anyone else, they wouldn't be in this position...but Vlad Dracula was not a vampire used to playing second fiddle to anyone, not even her, no matter how much he did love her. He might be aroused by her capabilities, might praise her deeply for finally using her claws, but deep down she knew this dominant posturing was a direct result of her levelling up; they were equals now in fact, and not just because he graciously chose to treat her that way.

Or was she now more dangerous?

For a moment Agatha couldn't help but wonder if Dracula himself might be vulnerable to her abilities? Over time he might learn to protect himself, Agatha knew Dracula was skilled in the mental arts just as Lucy was, but right now she probably held that advantage. So, it was no concession to allow him this, to play a more submissive role in the bedroom if that was what he needed in this moment. Still it was a genuine gasp that escaped her lips as she was dragged down the bed, her legs propped up onto her lovers' shoulders, that devilish smirk disappearing between her thighs.