The air in Mia's cramped apartment bedroom hung thick with the scent of sweat and desire, the kind of humid heat that clung to skin like a second lover. Moans echoed off the peeling wallpaper—raw, breathless cries from two bodies in their early twenties tangled in the sheets. The bedframe creaked rhythmically, protesting the force behind each thrust, as Aman drove into her with unrelenting hunger.
Aman, the vampire who'd slipped into the mortal world centuries ago but looked no older than twenty-two, gripped Mia's hips tightly. His pale fingers dug into her soft flesh, leaving faint red marks that would fade by morning. He wasn't here for blood tonight; no, the sharp tang of crimson held no appeal when he could bury himself deep inside a warm, pulsing pussy like hers. Fucking was better—infinitely better. It quenched a thirst that biting never could, flooding his veins with a rush far more intoxicating than any vein's promise.
Mia's legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as she arched her back off the mattress. Her nails raked down his smooth, cool back, drawing thin lines that healed almost instantly under his undead skin. 'Harder, Aman,' she gasped, her voice a husky plea amid the slap of skin on skin. Her dark hair fanned out across the pillow, damp strands sticking to her forehead, and her full breasts bounced with every powerful slam of his hips.
He obliged without hesitation, his cock thick and unyielding as it plunged into her slick heat. Each stroke stretched her walls, filling her completely, the friction building that electric tension between them. Aman's fangs grazed his lower lip, a subtle reminder of what he was, but he kept them sheathed. No need to bite when her moans were like nectar, her body clenching around him in waves that made his vision blur with pleasure. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss, tongues battling as he fucked her deeper, faster, chasing the high that only this mortal coil could provide.
Mia's hands clutched at his shoulders, her body trembling as she neared the edge. 'Oh god, yes—right there,' she whimpered, her pussy tightening around his shaft like a vice. Aman growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through her as he angled his thrusts to hit that sweet spot inside her. Sweat beaded on her skin despite the chill of his touch, and she bucked up to meet him, their rhythms syncing in a frenzy of need.
He could feel her climax building, the way her breaths came in short, desperate pants, her inner muscles fluttering. It pushed him closer too, that coiling heat in his core tightening with every wet slide of his cock in and out. Fucking her was his addiction, a rebellion against the eternal night that had cursed him. Blood sustained him, sure, but this—this raw, human connection—made him feel alive.
With a final, brutal thrust, Mia shattered. Her cry filled the room as her orgasm ripped through her, pussy spasming around him, milking his length. Aman followed seconds later, burying himself to the hilt as he came, hot spurts of cum flooding her depths. He collapsed onto her, their bodies slick and spent, hearts pounding in unison—hers frantic, his a faint echo of what it once was.
They lay there panting, limbs entwined, the afterglow wrapping around them like a blanket. Aman's hand traced lazy circles on her thigh, savoring the warmth of her skin against his eternal coolness. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.
Then, from the nightstand, his phone buzzed—a sharp vibration cutting through the haze.
Aman's eyes snapped open at the insistent buzz, the vibration rattling against the wooden nightstand like an unwelcome intruder. He groaned, his body still humming from the release, cock softening inside Mia's warmth. She shifted beneath him, her pussy giving a final, lazy squeeze around him as he pulled out with a wet slide, a trail of their mixed fluids leaking onto the sheets.
'What is it?' Mia murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction, one hand trailing down his chest. Her fingers brushed the faint scars from her nails, already gone, but she didn't notice in the dim light filtering through the curtains.
'Nothing,' he lied smoothly, rolling off her to snatch the phone. The screen glowed with a single message from an unknown number: We need to talk. Now. The Council's watching. His undead heart—if it could be called that—stilled for a beat. The Council. Those ancient pricks who enforced the old ways, blood and shadows only. They wouldn't approve of his... indulgences.
He deleted the text, but the words lingered like a bad aftertaste. Mia propped herself up on an elbow, her breasts swaying gently, nipples still peaked from their exertions. 'Aman? You're looking all broody again.' She reached for him, but he caught her wrist, pulling her into a kiss to silence any questions. His tongue delved into her mouth, tasting the salt of her sweat, distracting them both.
She melted against him, moaning softly as his free hand cupped her ass, squeezing the firm flesh. 'Round two?' she teased, grinding her thigh against his stirring length. But the message gnawed at him. If the Council knew about his habits—fucking mortals instead of feeding properly—they'd drag him back to the crypts, force the hunger on him until he broke.
'Not yet,' he whispered against her lips, nipping at her bottom one. He needed to move, to think. Sliding out of bed, his naked form cut a lean silhouette in the low light—pale skin stretched over toned muscles, cock hanging heavy between his legs. Mia watched him, eyes hungry, but he dressed quickly, pulling on jeans and a black shirt that hugged his frame.
'Where are you going?' She sat up fully now, sheets pooling around her waist, exposing the curve of her hips and the glistening evidence of their fuck between her thighs.
'Errand. Won't be long.' He leaned down, capturing her nipple in his mouth for a quick suck, tongue flicking the hard bud until she gasped. 'Stay here. I'll be back to finish what we started.' His hand dipped between her legs, fingers sliding through her slick folds, teasing her clit with a firm circle. She bucked into his touch, whimpering.
'Promise?' Her voice was breathy, eyes half-lidded.
He smirked, withdrawing his hand and licking her essence from his fingers. 'Promise.' But as he slipped out the door into the cool night air, the weight of the message pressed heavier. The streets of the city were alive with distant traffic and neon glow, but shadows hid threats he knew too well.
His phone buzzed again—another text, this time with coordinates to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts. Come alone. Or they find her. A photo attached: Mia, asleep in her bed, taken just minutes ago.
A low snarl escaped his lips. Bastards. He broke into a run, the night blurring around him as he raced toward confrontation, the thrill of the hunt mixing with the ache of what he'd left behind.