Blood Awakening: The Strongest Hybrid and His Vampire Bride

The slow slaps of flesh echoed in the darkness, a faint light leaking from the pantry as Leona's ripe peach quivered with each thrust. Her palms were flat on the counter, the cool stone misted by breath and the light sheen of condensation from her heated flesh.

The kitchen carried the lingering scent of spices and citrus, undercut by the sharp herbal burn clinging to his bandage and under that, the warmer musk spilling from them both. Outside, Londis' rain rattled the window in hushed applause.

Nikolai drove forward like a man trying to hammer a nail into the world. His fingers dug into her hipbones, thumbs notching instinctively into familiar hollows, rolling her back onto him as his body chased relief it hadn't earned.

The wolf inside him wanted something to prove that he was here, to remove the lingering pomegranate and rose that clung to his skin and drove him crazy. Each impact was violent, deliberate as if to gouge Leona's insides with his swollen shaft, a wet clap that marched the seconds along.

Leona breathed with him, no... for him. She caught the tail of each ragged and frustrated breath and caught it smoothly, inhaling and adjusting their pace. "Easy..." she murmured, half-turning her head so he could see the edge of her profile, ginger hair sticking to the curve of her neck. "You'll split the bench before you split me."

"I..." He couldn't speak well, her insides squeezing him gently, with a wet, slippery undulation. The words trapped in his throat, voice as rough as sand.

The itch under his ribs hadn't vanished, only retreated like a tide that was considering its next strike. Madoka's laugh, the broken porcelain, the VIP room. He pressed forward anyway, slapping against her buttocks, burying his cock to the root, and let a hoarse sound break free between clenched teeth.

"I know," she said softly, lifting her hips and pushing back against him, unhurried... like a gentle lake, welcoming him deeper. "That's why I'm here."

Her calm was like an anchor, a warm palm on the belly of a beast. She took his length with a steadiness that denied the chaos of his rough movements. The little flex of her belly, the reflexive clench around him each time his swollen tip tried to crush her womb.

It wasn't submission, but acceptance.

Leona used her body to speak, to understand him, trying to reassure and tell him that she would be his home, his refuge that would accept all his desires.

His hand slid up, fingers sinking into the hem of her nightgown, to find the heat of her waist, the rise of her chest. Her skin was like damp silk. He felt the delicate drumming of her heart beneath his left palm, grinding against her as he crushed her large mounds in his hands, trying to drown out the beast inside.

"Look at me," she whispered... a hot sigh leaving her lips as she pushed her ass against his abdomen, the curve of his cock rubbing deeper than before.

Nikolai's blurry eyes became focused.

He watched her calmly, cock buried to the base. Green eyes caught him when he leaned closer, cheeks brushing together. In that narrow frame, faint freckles, long lashes... the exact place her lips caught on her teeth when in pain. Nikolai's heart stirred, a different hunger began a revolution...

Not the white-hot rage that drove him now, but an old hearth, banked coals, certain warmth.

"Leona…" It spilt out of him halfway between apology and a declaration.

"I know, Nngh..." she said again, and reached back to touch his jaw, nails grazing his chin. "If you need it, take it... But please, think of me."

His cock twitched inside her... the swollen member growing larger as his body grew half-transforming. Leona's pink lips parted with a sigh of delight and pain... his member spreading her insides, but his eyes so gentle and affectionate, she endured.

The rhythm changed, though still intense; there was a touch of his affection, and he directed it at Leona, and no other woman entered his mind.

He gripped her harder, then forced himself to loosen it. His next thrust rolled through her, hips carving a longer path, the wet slap stretching into a deep, quiet pressure that made her mouth part on a sigh. The counter creaked instead of the bench now; their bodies found a middle ground between feral and affectionate.

"There," she said, her voice like a burning thread. "That's the best... spot...."

Nikolai didn't deserve such a good woman. He held on to it desperately. His mouth found the nape of her neck, breath hot against ginger and the hint of soap she'd fallen asleep in. He tasted salt and Leona and not-Madoka, and the knot under his ribs loosened.

"Tell me what you need," she murmured, tilting her hips, changing the angle so he dragged across that tender ridge inside her that made her breathing erratic. "Don't make me guess."

"Noise," he said, surprising himself with the truth.

"Alright."

Leona untangled one hand to flick the pantry light higher. The bulb spread a golden glow through the kitchen. She shifted forward, bracing one knee on a chair rung, bench squeaking as she lifted her hips higher and set the pace. A slow draw, a full slide, her body squeezing around him like a velvet fist each time he kissed her cervix. She made the sounds he asked for; not theatrical, not performed... she stopped holding back.

Low moans that vibrated against his forearms when he wrapped her close, breath squeals that threaded under his skin when she guided him to the exact curve that made her legs turn to jelly.

"That's it," she encouraged, mouth close to his ear as he bent over her. "You're right here. With me... keep going... Haa.... harder....!"

He groaned involuntarily, ashamed of the relief that scraped his throat raw.

Each time his hips slammed against hers, she scrunched her face up as the jolt of pain and pleasure mixed like a raging tide, unable to stop the explosion of bliss. "Leona..." He ground out, hips spanning harder because of his embarrassment more than violence... Leona!"

"Good." Her smile brushed his cheek. "Good boy."

The words acted like a detonator to something hot... searing hot.

Nikolai bit back the instinct to snarl at the phrase. Instead, he poured it into his hands, hauling her upright against his chest so she arched into him, her sweaty back against his muscles. He slid one hand down, over the soft plane of her belly, fingertips finding that small, slippery pearl of her attention and circling it slowly, firmly, the way she liked.

Her legs spread wider.

She opened for him with a shudder that travelled to her voice.

"Ah—Nik…"

Her body trembled in his arms, the clutching rhythm he rinner walls changing, an echo reverberating through her spine where it met his chest. He chased it ruthlessly, rolling his hips to keep the pressure relentless and precise, his palm stroking her in a patient rhythm that kept bribing her higher.

"Don't—stop," she gasped, eyes closing tight enough to crease her freckles. "There. Just like—"

He couldn't stop if he wanted to. The wolf liked this part... when hunting a target that wanted to be caught. He pressed his mouth ot her shoulder, teeth scraping gently in warning, marking his prey. Her answering cry was soft but certain; she pushed back against him, riding the length of his cock like a choice she was proud of.

The kitchen swallowed the sounds: wet, sticky percussion; her breath breaking in small, startled patterns; his deeper, rougher grunts; the squeak of a chair. Rain drummed time on the glass as the pantry light hummed.

But the city might as well have been on another planet.

Leona came with a tremor that started where his hand worked and rippled through her hips, up her spine, into his mouth. She convulsed around him, milking him, a throaty "oh—God" spilling against the cupboard door as her forehead pressed there for balance. He felt every pulse of her, every flutter and clamp; it dragged a curse from him, helpless and devout.

As if out of revenge... or a sense of victory. "Good girl," he rasped, the words scraped from the wolf's throat and given back to the woman who'd earned them.

She laughed once on the edge of a moan, breathless and bright. "Don't get cocky," she whispered, still shivering around him. "You're not finished."

No, he wasn't.

Nikolai was close enough to see the edge, close enough that the surge of heat at the base of his spine felt like a freight train. But the poison itch coiled and hissed, an old reflex wanting to turn climax into punishment. He held back with a snarl that made his jaw ache, forced his pace slower again as his cock ground inside her softness, the pulsing of her pussy comfortable and sticky.

"Inside," she said, not a question. "Fill me to the brim."

"Leona…"

"Inside," she repeated, firmer, tilting her hips to take him deeper, to show him there was no trap or lie.

He yielded when his body decided for him, a savage, grateful rush that folded him forward over her back. He sank his teeth into the slope of her shoulder to muffle the sounds that escaped his lips... feral and noisy.

Not breaking skin, just enough to ground him as heat shot through his gut and out in pulses that made his vision spark. He throbbed, filling her, hips locked to hers, every muscle singing with the paradox of release and restraint.

His thick milk oozed from their connection.

Leona took it all, hands gripping the counter, voice like a hummingbird against the stone.

When he finally sagged, muscles trembling, the heat overflowed from her pussy in thick, milky threads while she reached back to stroke his hair in a slow, soothing curve that tricked his body to calm down.

They stood there a long minute, joined, catching breath. The rain softened outside in sync with their racing hearts.

"She squeezed him gently with her body, and then eased forward, sliding off him with a deep sigh and wet pop. He hissed once, then grunted. She turned, cheeks flushed, nightgown high on her hips. She looked like trouble at home, and that was the exact reason some wars were never fought.

"Come on," she said, chest rising and falling slower now. "Shower. That bandage needs a fresh wrap... and..." Her lips touched Nikolai's ear... "I want more."