Paris Is Burning [J2 AU] [NC-17]
Title: Paris Is Burning
Pairing: J2 (AU)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: I am sorry to report dear, Paris is burning after all...
Warnings: PORN. Hot, heavy, filthy boy sex and, oh yeah, vampirism.
Word Count: 2936
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Never have. Sadly, never will.
Notes: Loosely, and I mean loosely, based on this lovely song by St. Vincent: Paris is Burning.
A recording of this story by the amazing blackbyrdy is available here. Please go check it out and tell her how awesome she is for doing it!
The noise was atrocious. It was sweltering and it seemed as though the entire city was outdoors and being swept up in the hysteria. He hadn't heard such cacophony since the Black Death swept through the city gates and made off with any plans he might have had for dinner.
Despite the late hour, the stars were obscured by the flames, the crickets by the screaming and gunfire, and the moon by blood.
After another failed attempt at writing something of coherence, a great sigh was given and the paper crumpled onto the desk as he stood to leave. If he couldn't have peace, then he might as well aquiesce the madness and head to the old ballroom.
He had sworn on all that was indeliby unholy that he would not attend. Like most balls, it was merely an excuse to preen and present oneself like a court-appointed whore, and while the label had hung over his head for centuries, there was no reason to advertise it as such. He was a whore after a fashion, but he was selective with who he let in his bed, and more importantly, into his life.
Casting a quick gaze upon his face in the mirror, he grabbed his coat and headed out, slipping soundlessly from the third story window and into the muddy street below. No one noticed the man land elegantly on his feet, barely giving pause to brush himself off before beginning a measured pace towards the heart of Paris.
If he were to be truthful with himself, he would acknowledge that he was famished. It'd been a few days since his last meal and as he walked, he realized that everyone smelled wonderful. Perhaps this ball, unlike so many of the others, would have a fair offering at the table. He was not so late as to miss the dinner beforehand, but if he did not hurry, he would be left with the scraps and they were never any good with their bellies full of wine, animal fat, and rotting waste. It seeped into every pore and left a terrible taste in his mouth.
The Théâtre de Enfer had a long and sordid history to a select few residents of Paris. The rest of the population, including the King himself, had no idea it even existed. A building as old as the city itself, it stood nestled behind a thick covering of trees, elegant and daunting in its size.
It has to be. He mused to himself as he approached the gate, How else would it contain all the sin?
Wrought iron gates loomed a few feet over his own head and while he could easily sail over it if he had wanted, there was something quaint about being let in properly. The two gaurds gave him one look before each took a side and allowed him passage through the entrance arched by vines that were perfectly manicured.
The trees surrounding the property provided insulation to the screams and gunpowder emanating from the Bastille. He had been there earlier when it had fallen, watching and laughing as the royalty were proven to be mortal just like anyone else, knocked down off their pedastal by the overturning of their prized cache.
Tomorrow, he was sure, the executions would start and if he wanted to play spectator and not give himself away, he would have to fill his own belly to quiet the hunger. The aristocracy would meet Madame La Guillotine tomorrow and he would stand front and center and watch as their heads rolled into the baskets, the smirk on his pale lips the last thing they would ever see.
Incense. He could smell it even as he walked up the gravel path to the mamoth double doors. His kind was fond of the smokey scent and he had to admit that it helped cover the stench some of them left behind. Those that were new or that had never been properly taught tended to leave what they didn't eat to rot in the sun and the smell played merry havoc with even the oldest sense of smell. A candle lit each window of the facade, the bodies moving behind it in such a way as to indicate that drink and smoke had just been passed round the rooms and that old friends were reminiscing.
Great, just great. He would actually have to speak to them. He was hoping merely for an hour's worth of entertainment, a bite of dinner, and a silent escape back to his own home. He had miscalculated however and now he was trapped. Taking another heaving sigh, he crossed the threshold, shoes clicking on the Italian marble of the entry.
All the usual faces graced his vision, chins high and conversation petty. The latest fashions direct from court were all on display in rich silks and velvets, jewel-toned if they were not sewn in all black. As he crossed the floor, he could smell the food, the sweet aroma emanating from the floor below his feet, causing his mouth to water and his hunger to take over but for a moment.
Striding past the foyer, he made a straight route to the bar, the man behind it pouring him his drink with wide eyes and a trembling hand. Typical. Those that planned the event wanted entertainment to be all-encompassing and watching the man fumble around was good for a few laughs from the guests. He however, just felt aggravated as he waited for the man to fill the glass. Snatching it up, he gave barely a second glance back as he kept walking, heading for a quieter corner of the Théâtre. The sitting room would do nicely to calm his pangs and his mind. Usually, it was devoid of those he could not tolerate and it gave him enough time to come around and garner up the necessary patience to deal with his own kind.
Tonight however, he found that he was not the solitary man in the room. By one of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows stood another man, his clothes belying his wealth, his hair cropped short as was beginning to come into fashion. His stance was not so rigid as the others, and from his stillness, he could easily be mistaken for a philosopher in the midst of a revelation.
“So trite, are they not?” He asked, startling his intruder, and as he turned, the man's green eyes flashed the moonlight so clear they became incandescent for an instant.
“I believe they feel entitled to being that way.” Jared smiled as he walked further into the room, one palm flat against his waistcoat, the other hanging loosely at his side.
“It's a pity. We'd be so much more interesting a species were we not so caught up in our own reflections.” The man returned Jared's smile with one of his own, the anomaly of his teeth a subtle greeting of sorts, one which Jared himself had given not a moment before.
“I have not seen you at a ball here. New to the city? For I'm afraid if you are, you've come during one of the more unpleasant events in our history.” The man for whom the question was intended let out a laugh, soft and honest as though the statement were impossibly funny.
“I noticed, yes. Your people seem to be suffering a great malady at the moment; madness never tastes good. It's why I came. Imported fare is much more satisfying than the local offering at the moment. And to answer your question, no, I'm not new. I just...”
“You'd rather not be seen if you do not have occasion to be.” Jared finished, reading the thought in the other man's mind with ease, interpreting it in his own words for the benefit of his companion.
“It's nice to meet you, Jared. My name is Jensen. I live just outside the gates, though I suspect I am at the opposite end of the city from your own quarters.” Eyebrows going up quickly as a smirk of amusement passed onto his face, Jared nodded. So he wasn't the only one with that particular gift.
The rest of the introduction was silent, the two men falling into step with one another as they headed out the glass doors of the sitting room, into the gardens behind the building. Ages, birthplaces, family history, and on what night they became what they are were all exchanged in a matter of minutes, each man taking the information in with a grin or a frown, depending on the context. So much conversation had occurred by the time they reached the grotto nestled deep in the woods, that it felt like the two were old friends, reunited by some happy occasion.
“I stole one of the courses before anyone noticed. I prefer eating alone or in the company of one other than making my habits known to the whole room.” Jensen finally spoke as he ducked under the smooth, aged stone of the grotto.
Once inside, he shed his jacket and cravat, leaving his shirt open to expose the smooth skin beneath it, the sight of which made Jared's mouth water for a very different reason. He could smell their meal, and as they rounded the corner, he saw the most delicious little thing that could be brought into Paris given the conflict.
“You dog, you stole dessert.” Jared laughed, his own formality gone as he too stripped down to just his shirt and breeches, everything else forgotten in a pile by the entrance.
“She was actually the second course, poor thing. So under-appreciated.” Jensen tutted as he slid a palm up the length of the girl's nude form, starting between her legs and ending at her neck where he gave her a quick pinch.
“Firm as plum, fresh as morning dew. They won't know what they're missing.” Jared agreed as he got into position, waiting patiently until Jensen did the same and took the first bite without pomp or circumstance.
The girl-no older than eighteen-screamed and then fell into a swoon, a trick, Jared was delighted to see, that Jensen was a master of. He could smell her sex as she writhed beneath his companion's hands, body coming to full attention even as she was slowly being drained of life. Taking her left wrist into his hand, Jared too bit down, a deep groan of satisfaction escaping him as he lapped up her sweetest nectar.
With an arch of her back, the girl simultaneously had her first orgasm and drew her last gasping breath, both Jensen and Jared pulling away just before the last pulse of blood shot through her veins.
“Tremendous.” Jared complimented Jensen's choice breathlessly as he leaned against the far wall of the grotto, satisfied and more than a little aroused thanks to the girls uninhibited performance.
With his legs splayed lazily, his shirt unbuttoned down to the beginning of his breeches and his hair slightly mussed from where the girl had clung while he fed, Jared was the picture of sex and he knew it. A thought blipped across his mind's eye, directed at Jensen who merely nodded and moved slowly around the pool of crystal water, the girl's blood lingering in a tiny drop at the corner of his mouth.
“May I?” Jared asked, looking up into emerald orbs that were intense in their coloring given the low light of the stone refuge. Jensen merely nodded, settling in and allowing the younger man to straddle him before taking what he wanted.
Her blood, though cold, still tasted sweet as Jared swiped it off the skin of his companion, his own lips still retaining her taste as they conquered Jensen's. A moan passed softly between them as the older man's hands slid into the opening of Jared's shirt, untucking it from breeches that were impossibly tight before fingers swept up to pinch at dusty pink nipples gently.
“You give yourself over so easily, Jared. Open yourself up for nearly anyone.” Jensen remarked, his voice as gritty as the gravel path, hands moving to push down the breeches that were hindering his progress and his view of his young companion's awe-stricking body.
“I cannot help myself, Jensen. It's a vice.” Jared smirked back before devouring Jensen's mouth again, his own big hands removing nearly-identical fabrics from his new lover's form.
“A vice I will gladly endorse tonight.” Was the answer as the breeches finally released what they'd been hiding, Jared laying back to give Jensen a full view as he wet his hair in the grotto's water.
“Take me.” He whispered, eyes gazing up at Jensen and seeing the man's need to ravish written plainly in his green eyes.
Jensen's response was silent and visible, his smile accompanied by the last of his clothes falling against the stones, his impressive length standing at attention and already wet at the tip. Jared couldn't stop himself from crawling over to the new spot Jensen had chosen, lips wrapping around the rigid tissue as he sucked down the salty skin hungrily. His enthusiasm and the power with which he pulled Jensen into his mouth gave the man reason to gasp and slam his hips forward, pushing himself into his young companion's throat.
One of the few joys of being what they were was that one needn't ever worry about a little thing like choking as Jared made abundantly clear when he greedily swallowed the mass in his throat over and over. With his head tipped back, Jensen moaned loudly, the sensation unlike any other he'd experienced. The wet slide of Jared's throat had his head spinning and before he could reach the same blissful state as their dinner, Jensen pulled away and silently demanded Jared get on his knees.
With a sly smirk, Jared did as asked, making sure Jensen could see everything that hung or contracted taughtly between his legs, every inch of skin throbbing and full of the one liquid they could drink without end and which they'd just enjoyed not minutes prior.
Without permission, Jensen grasped what at what lay flat against Jared's stomach even in the position he was in, giving it a squeeze and a tug down and back towards his lover's opening. It wrenched a moan from Jared and Jensen was rewarded with a nice big spurt of precome, Jared's cock jolting back into place one he'd let go.
“Are you ready, my little whore?” Jensen asked, lining his cock-still soaked in Jared's spit-up against his companion's entrance, not waiting for a reply before beginning to push past the muscle.
“Jensen!” Jared gasped, reaching back and forcefully pulling the other man in, barely an instant passing until they were flush, both bodies heaving with passion.
Jared could not keep the cries from his lips, praises gasped to deities most Parisians didn't know to exist as his body was rutted into, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. The heat in the grotto caused the water to condense, droplets running down their skin and creating even more slip for their actions.
With a sound of surprise, he found himself on his back, feet in the air as Jensen spread him wide and plunged into him over and over, Jared's eyes wide and mouth slack as he watched the slippery cock disappear completely only to reimerge even more swollen and wet than it had gone in. He licked his lips as he was taken and used, the sensations incredible, especially when the angle of the thrusts were changed and Jensen's cock rubbed against a miniscule spot inside him that sent shocks through his whole body.
His own cock weeping and moving around wildly of its own accord, Jared knew it was only a matter of time before he felt the two poweful rushes he was so accustomed to. First would come his own, thick and copious, spilling over his abdominals and sometimes even reaching his neck. Most of those whom he slept with adored playing in the release afterward, spreading it all over his body and then licking it up as though it were some sugary syrup. A few moments after would come the second, more intense release. Jared's body would open for it, chest expanded and mouth ajar as the heat flooded him from inside out, coating his opening and filling him up. Jared loved being filled and it showed in how he purred and writhed beneath Jensen, coaxing him to finish and flood the body his cock was so deeply plugging.
After a few more animalistic thrusts, Jensen cried out, watching in amazement as Jared's release washed over him, the light making it clear just how much there was. It took but one hard buck from Jared and his lover was emptying into him, both men moaning as their movements came to a head and then slowed, letting them relish in the feelings.
Even as the euphoria died away, Jensen did not pull out, preferring instead to keep himself buried in Jared's lithe form as the two relaxed.
“You're my whore from now one, your understand.” Jensen whispered, claiming his young lover's mouth, one hand splayed across the wet chest, rubbing delightfully big circles into the skin.
“I did always say I needed a sire...” Jared smirked, pulling his new master in for another deep kiss, his legs locking behind Jensen's back as he silently added, You're mine.
Pairing: J2 (AU)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: I am sorry to report dear, Paris is burning after all...
Warnings: PORN. Hot, heavy, filthy boy sex and, oh yeah, vampirism.
Word Count: 2936
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Never have. Sadly, never will.
Notes: Loosely, and I mean loosely, based on this lovely song by St. Vincent: Paris is Burning.
A recording of this story by the amazing blackbyrdy is available here. Please go check it out and tell her how awesome she is for doing it!
The noise was atrocious. It was sweltering and it seemed as though the entire city was outdoors and being swept up in the hysteria. He hadn't heard such cacophony since the Black Death swept through the city gates and made off with any plans he might have had for dinner.
Despite the late hour, the stars were obscured by the flames, the crickets by the screaming and gunfire, and the moon by blood.
After another failed attempt at writing something of coherence, a great sigh was given and the paper crumpled onto the desk as he stood to leave. If he couldn't have peace, then he might as well aquiesce the madness and head to the old ballroom.
He had sworn on all that was indeliby unholy that he would not attend. Like most balls, it was merely an excuse to preen and present oneself like a court-appointed whore, and while the label had hung over his head for centuries, there was no reason to advertise it as such. He was a whore after a fashion, but he was selective with who he let in his bed, and more importantly, into his life.
Casting a quick gaze upon his face in the mirror, he grabbed his coat and headed out, slipping soundlessly from the third story window and into the muddy street below. No one noticed the man land elegantly on his feet, barely giving pause to brush himself off before beginning a measured pace towards the heart of Paris.
If he were to be truthful with himself, he would acknowledge that he was famished. It'd been a few days since his last meal and as he walked, he realized that everyone smelled wonderful. Perhaps this ball, unlike so many of the others, would have a fair offering at the table. He was not so late as to miss the dinner beforehand, but if he did not hurry, he would be left with the scraps and they were never any good with their bellies full of wine, animal fat, and rotting waste. It seeped into every pore and left a terrible taste in his mouth.
The Théâtre de Enfer had a long and sordid history to a select few residents of Paris. The rest of the population, including the King himself, had no idea it even existed. A building as old as the city itself, it stood nestled behind a thick covering of trees, elegant and daunting in its size.
It has to be. He mused to himself as he approached the gate, How else would it contain all the sin?
Wrought iron gates loomed a few feet over his own head and while he could easily sail over it if he had wanted, there was something quaint about being let in properly. The two gaurds gave him one look before each took a side and allowed him passage through the entrance arched by vines that were perfectly manicured.
The trees surrounding the property provided insulation to the screams and gunpowder emanating from the Bastille. He had been there earlier when it had fallen, watching and laughing as the royalty were proven to be mortal just like anyone else, knocked down off their pedastal by the overturning of their prized cache.
Tomorrow, he was sure, the executions would start and if he wanted to play spectator and not give himself away, he would have to fill his own belly to quiet the hunger. The aristocracy would meet Madame La Guillotine tomorrow and he would stand front and center and watch as their heads rolled into the baskets, the smirk on his pale lips the last thing they would ever see.
Incense. He could smell it even as he walked up the gravel path to the mamoth double doors. His kind was fond of the smokey scent and he had to admit that it helped cover the stench some of them left behind. Those that were new or that had never been properly taught tended to leave what they didn't eat to rot in the sun and the smell played merry havoc with even the oldest sense of smell. A candle lit each window of the facade, the bodies moving behind it in such a way as to indicate that drink and smoke had just been passed round the rooms and that old friends were reminiscing.
Great, just great. He would actually have to speak to them. He was hoping merely for an hour's worth of entertainment, a bite of dinner, and a silent escape back to his own home. He had miscalculated however and now he was trapped. Taking another heaving sigh, he crossed the threshold, shoes clicking on the Italian marble of the entry.
All the usual faces graced his vision, chins high and conversation petty. The latest fashions direct from court were all on display in rich silks and velvets, jewel-toned if they were not sewn in all black. As he crossed the floor, he could smell the food, the sweet aroma emanating from the floor below his feet, causing his mouth to water and his hunger to take over but for a moment.
Striding past the foyer, he made a straight route to the bar, the man behind it pouring him his drink with wide eyes and a trembling hand. Typical. Those that planned the event wanted entertainment to be all-encompassing and watching the man fumble around was good for a few laughs from the guests. He however, just felt aggravated as he waited for the man to fill the glass. Snatching it up, he gave barely a second glance back as he kept walking, heading for a quieter corner of the Théâtre. The sitting room would do nicely to calm his pangs and his mind. Usually, it was devoid of those he could not tolerate and it gave him enough time to come around and garner up the necessary patience to deal with his own kind.
Tonight however, he found that he was not the solitary man in the room. By one of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows stood another man, his clothes belying his wealth, his hair cropped short as was beginning to come into fashion. His stance was not so rigid as the others, and from his stillness, he could easily be mistaken for a philosopher in the midst of a revelation.
“So trite, are they not?” He asked, startling his intruder, and as he turned, the man's green eyes flashed the moonlight so clear they became incandescent for an instant.
“I believe they feel entitled to being that way.” Jared smiled as he walked further into the room, one palm flat against his waistcoat, the other hanging loosely at his side.
“It's a pity. We'd be so much more interesting a species were we not so caught up in our own reflections.” The man returned Jared's smile with one of his own, the anomaly of his teeth a subtle greeting of sorts, one which Jared himself had given not a moment before.
“I have not seen you at a ball here. New to the city? For I'm afraid if you are, you've come during one of the more unpleasant events in our history.” The man for whom the question was intended let out a laugh, soft and honest as though the statement were impossibly funny.
“I noticed, yes. Your people seem to be suffering a great malady at the moment; madness never tastes good. It's why I came. Imported fare is much more satisfying than the local offering at the moment. And to answer your question, no, I'm not new. I just...”
“You'd rather not be seen if you do not have occasion to be.” Jared finished, reading the thought in the other man's mind with ease, interpreting it in his own words for the benefit of his companion.
“It's nice to meet you, Jared. My name is Jensen. I live just outside the gates, though I suspect I am at the opposite end of the city from your own quarters.” Eyebrows going up quickly as a smirk of amusement passed onto his face, Jared nodded. So he wasn't the only one with that particular gift.
The rest of the introduction was silent, the two men falling into step with one another as they headed out the glass doors of the sitting room, into the gardens behind the building. Ages, birthplaces, family history, and on what night they became what they are were all exchanged in a matter of minutes, each man taking the information in with a grin or a frown, depending on the context. So much conversation had occurred by the time they reached the grotto nestled deep in the woods, that it felt like the two were old friends, reunited by some happy occasion.
“I stole one of the courses before anyone noticed. I prefer eating alone or in the company of one other than making my habits known to the whole room.” Jensen finally spoke as he ducked under the smooth, aged stone of the grotto.
Once inside, he shed his jacket and cravat, leaving his shirt open to expose the smooth skin beneath it, the sight of which made Jared's mouth water for a very different reason. He could smell their meal, and as they rounded the corner, he saw the most delicious little thing that could be brought into Paris given the conflict.
“You dog, you stole dessert.” Jared laughed, his own formality gone as he too stripped down to just his shirt and breeches, everything else forgotten in a pile by the entrance.
“She was actually the second course, poor thing. So under-appreciated.” Jensen tutted as he slid a palm up the length of the girl's nude form, starting between her legs and ending at her neck where he gave her a quick pinch.
“Firm as plum, fresh as morning dew. They won't know what they're missing.” Jared agreed as he got into position, waiting patiently until Jensen did the same and took the first bite without pomp or circumstance.
The girl-no older than eighteen-screamed and then fell into a swoon, a trick, Jared was delighted to see, that Jensen was a master of. He could smell her sex as she writhed beneath his companion's hands, body coming to full attention even as she was slowly being drained of life. Taking her left wrist into his hand, Jared too bit down, a deep groan of satisfaction escaping him as he lapped up her sweetest nectar.
With an arch of her back, the girl simultaneously had her first orgasm and drew her last gasping breath, both Jensen and Jared pulling away just before the last pulse of blood shot through her veins.
“Tremendous.” Jared complimented Jensen's choice breathlessly as he leaned against the far wall of the grotto, satisfied and more than a little aroused thanks to the girls uninhibited performance.
With his legs splayed lazily, his shirt unbuttoned down to the beginning of his breeches and his hair slightly mussed from where the girl had clung while he fed, Jared was the picture of sex and he knew it. A thought blipped across his mind's eye, directed at Jensen who merely nodded and moved slowly around the pool of crystal water, the girl's blood lingering in a tiny drop at the corner of his mouth.
“May I?” Jared asked, looking up into emerald orbs that were intense in their coloring given the low light of the stone refuge. Jensen merely nodded, settling in and allowing the younger man to straddle him before taking what he wanted.
Her blood, though cold, still tasted sweet as Jared swiped it off the skin of his companion, his own lips still retaining her taste as they conquered Jensen's. A moan passed softly between them as the older man's hands slid into the opening of Jared's shirt, untucking it from breeches that were impossibly tight before fingers swept up to pinch at dusty pink nipples gently.
“You give yourself over so easily, Jared. Open yourself up for nearly anyone.” Jensen remarked, his voice as gritty as the gravel path, hands moving to push down the breeches that were hindering his progress and his view of his young companion's awe-stricking body.
“I cannot help myself, Jensen. It's a vice.” Jared smirked back before devouring Jensen's mouth again, his own big hands removing nearly-identical fabrics from his new lover's form.
“A vice I will gladly endorse tonight.” Was the answer as the breeches finally released what they'd been hiding, Jared laying back to give Jensen a full view as he wet his hair in the grotto's water.
“Take me.” He whispered, eyes gazing up at Jensen and seeing the man's need to ravish written plainly in his green eyes.
Jensen's response was silent and visible, his smile accompanied by the last of his clothes falling against the stones, his impressive length standing at attention and already wet at the tip. Jared couldn't stop himself from crawling over to the new spot Jensen had chosen, lips wrapping around the rigid tissue as he sucked down the salty skin hungrily. His enthusiasm and the power with which he pulled Jensen into his mouth gave the man reason to gasp and slam his hips forward, pushing himself into his young companion's throat.
One of the few joys of being what they were was that one needn't ever worry about a little thing like choking as Jared made abundantly clear when he greedily swallowed the mass in his throat over and over. With his head tipped back, Jensen moaned loudly, the sensation unlike any other he'd experienced. The wet slide of Jared's throat had his head spinning and before he could reach the same blissful state as their dinner, Jensen pulled away and silently demanded Jared get on his knees.
With a sly smirk, Jared did as asked, making sure Jensen could see everything that hung or contracted taughtly between his legs, every inch of skin throbbing and full of the one liquid they could drink without end and which they'd just enjoyed not minutes prior.
Without permission, Jensen grasped what at what lay flat against Jared's stomach even in the position he was in, giving it a squeeze and a tug down and back towards his lover's opening. It wrenched a moan from Jared and Jensen was rewarded with a nice big spurt of precome, Jared's cock jolting back into place one he'd let go.
“Are you ready, my little whore?” Jensen asked, lining his cock-still soaked in Jared's spit-up against his companion's entrance, not waiting for a reply before beginning to push past the muscle.
“Jensen!” Jared gasped, reaching back and forcefully pulling the other man in, barely an instant passing until they were flush, both bodies heaving with passion.
Jared could not keep the cries from his lips, praises gasped to deities most Parisians didn't know to exist as his body was rutted into, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. The heat in the grotto caused the water to condense, droplets running down their skin and creating even more slip for their actions.
With a sound of surprise, he found himself on his back, feet in the air as Jensen spread him wide and plunged into him over and over, Jared's eyes wide and mouth slack as he watched the slippery cock disappear completely only to reimerge even more swollen and wet than it had gone in. He licked his lips as he was taken and used, the sensations incredible, especially when the angle of the thrusts were changed and Jensen's cock rubbed against a miniscule spot inside him that sent shocks through his whole body.
His own cock weeping and moving around wildly of its own accord, Jared knew it was only a matter of time before he felt the two poweful rushes he was so accustomed to. First would come his own, thick and copious, spilling over his abdominals and sometimes even reaching his neck. Most of those whom he slept with adored playing in the release afterward, spreading it all over his body and then licking it up as though it were some sugary syrup. A few moments after would come the second, more intense release. Jared's body would open for it, chest expanded and mouth ajar as the heat flooded him from inside out, coating his opening and filling him up. Jared loved being filled and it showed in how he purred and writhed beneath Jensen, coaxing him to finish and flood the body his cock was so deeply plugging.
After a few more animalistic thrusts, Jensen cried out, watching in amazement as Jared's release washed over him, the light making it clear just how much there was. It took but one hard buck from Jared and his lover was emptying into him, both men moaning as their movements came to a head and then slowed, letting them relish in the feelings.
Even as the euphoria died away, Jensen did not pull out, preferring instead to keep himself buried in Jared's lithe form as the two relaxed.
“You're my whore from now one, your understand.” Jensen whispered, claiming his young lover's mouth, one hand splayed across the wet chest, rubbing delightfully big circles into the skin.
“I did always say I needed a sire...” Jared smirked, pulling his new master in for another deep kiss, his legs locking behind Jensen's back as he silently added, You're mine.