Before
"Put your hands up, Kitty."
Kit put his wrists together and raised them over his head. Devlin pressed him against the leather seat and tied his hands to the headrest with quick, practiced movements, silk tie digging into his flesh.
"Don't call me that."
"Why?"
"It was my mother's name."
Devlin's head dipped, nipping at the skin on Kit's collarbone, fingers slipping into the waistband of his jeans and brushing over his tip through his underwear, teasing.
"Ah!"
He slipped Kit's cock free and squeezed it, biting his nipple hard.
"Ahh! Fuck!"
"You belong to me now, Kitty. And I will call you whatever I like."
Kit strained against the silk biting into his wrists, tossing his head back against the seat as Devlin slipped his jeans and boxers off, then unbuttoned his suit pants with one hand.
He pulled Kit's legs up, nearly folding him in half, and spat on his crease.
"What the - Oh! Aaa..." He moaned, feeling the car turn as Devlin shifted his weight, lining up his hard cock. Kit's eyes met the driver's in the rear-view mirror and he realized that Devlin's bodyguard could see and hear everything. His mouth snapped shut.
But when Devlin thrust in, Kit screamed. In this sharp pain, in this overwhelming pleasure, he could forget everything.
He could scream and thrash and wrap his legs around Devlin, holding him close - not because he had just slit a mans throat or lost his uncle or signed away his freedom but because he was getting fucked in the back of a car, so it was okay to lose control.
For a moment he could let everything go.
"Hah, ha, aaah..." he panted, moaning.
Devlin covered his mouth with his and fucked him with his tongue in rhythm with his thrusts. He rolled them both on the seat, sticking his head up between Kit's bound hands and positioning him on top of his cock.
"Ride me, Kitty."
In this position he was so deep, brushing Kit's sweet spot and making him twitch and tighten around him. The wolf obeyed, sitting down on the hard cock and gasping. Setting his own pace and moving, he closed his eyes.
He rode him, throwing back his head and moaning. Devlin licked the sweat from his chest between his nipples, grabbing Kit's hips and pushing deeper into his ass.
"Aaahhh...Ahh!"
Devlin was grazing his prostate just right with every thrust and the boy lost the ability to move, his body exploding into sensation, shivers running through him.
The vampire grinned, breathing hard. His pupils were deep black pits and wet, gleaming fangs poked out from below his thin top lip.
Fangs? Kit's eyes widened but before he could more than jerk away - his bound wrists bringing him up short - Devlin's head fell forward, nuzzling Kit's skin where his neck met his shoulder. His tongue darted out, tasting, and his teeth scraped along the sensitive flesh.
Kit shuddered and then tensed as Devlin bit down, jaws widening and fangs pressing down, sinking in like twin daggers.
A sharp, intense pain radiated from Kit's neck, pushing him right over the edge. He shuddered, cumming onto Devlin's designer shirt as the vampire's jaws worked at his neck, sucking, licking, biting savagely.
Kit trembled against him. He felt dizzy, slamming an elbow against one dark window. No-one could see them. No-one would come even if Devlin sucked him dry. He strained against the silk fabric, whimpering.
To ward off the pain he bit into the shoulder in front of him, finding that his own teeth had shifted, a wolf's long curved canines, made to hold and tear, emerging from both his upper and lower jaws.
His vision was changing too, colours fading, lines and shadows growing sharper. He bit down, worrying at the fabric.
Growling, he sat down on Devlin's cock, burying it to the hilt. The vampire gasped and came up for air. He rolled them again, slamming Kit down into the car seat and ravaging him, pounding him desperately, biting into his bleeding neck again.
Kit felt his fingers morph into claws and tore a hand lose from his bindings. He scratched at Devlin's back and shoulders, ripping through his expensive suit.
The mobster kissed him roughly, forcing him to drink a mouthful of his own blood as he slammed into him. The gulp tasted nothing like licking a cut, not vaguely sour and metallic. It was salty and overpowering and thick, reminding him more of a mouthful of cum.
Kit coughed and sputtered, pulling on his remaining bind. The warm blood dribbled down his chin and his claws tore open the back of Devlin's suit at the shoulder seam, drawing blood.
Devlin paused and touched his fingertips to the scratch, then offered them to Kit.
"Lick them."
The little werewolf just glared at him, panting. Devlin thrust his fingers into Kit's mouth, fucking him hard. He couldn't breathe, the taste of blood deep in his throat and Devlin's fingers thrusting in and out. The vampire bit down again.
A vision of blood flashed across Kit's eyes. For a second he couldn't see the other man's face and his stomach clenched. The car shook and Devlin held him fast, jaws locked, sucking and licking, tongue pushing into the puncture wounds and making him flinch.
Devlin growled into his neck, pulling Kit up and pushing in deep, until his ass rested against Devlin's hips. Kit gasped and then the vampire fucked him hard and fast, making him arch his back and moan uncontrollably, unable to feel anything but the hard cock moving in and out of him.
He whimpered. Waves of pleasure and pain were rolling over him but at the same time his surroundings were growing hazy. Blood-loss - and maybe shock - was weakening him. It was just too much...
With effort, Kit turned his face and whispered into Devlin's ear.
"Ah, Devil. Cum inside me, okay? Please... I can't take it anymore."
Astonished burgundy eyes met his and then he could feel Devlin convulse inside of him, moaning in his ear. Kit grinned faintly.
"Got you."
Then he let his head fall back against the leather seat, slipping into unconsciousness.
"Wake up."
Kit's eyes snapped open. He felt sore and sticky; his mouth was dry and his body ached, especially his neck - oh.
That's right.
His head was wedged at an uncomfortable angle and he had just been devoured (literally and figuratively) by a vampire.
Aforementioned vampire sat regarding him in a pristine white leather armchair, smirking.
Kit was lying on a matching couch, in what looked more like a hotel suite than a private apartment. It was spacious, with light muted colours, large faux windows framed by heavy velvet curtains, and spotless designer furniture. Everything was brushed steel, dark wood, dove-grey and blue-grey textiles.
He could not hear anything from outside the building. Either they were below ground...or the apartment was soundproof.
A full ashtray sat on top of the marble coffee table and a vague odour of trash came from another room. Did Devlin Novák, notorious mobster and immortal vampire, really live in this modern condo?
"You are quite weak for a werewolf, aren't you?"
"Gah - um, what?"
"You. Weak. Although you have recovered considerably quicker than a human, I would have expected more stamina from a werewolf."
Kit scowled at him. He didn't feel like mentioning how little he knew about about other werewolves.
Devlin leaned forward, smiling causally. Without changing his expression he backhanded Kit, slamming his head back into the couch. Still smiling, he leaned back.
"Well, be that as it may - I am quite pleased to have finally acquired a wolf."
He reached over and picked up a flat, rectangular black metal box from the coffee table.
"A gift, for my pet."
Devlin showed his fangs as he handed the box over, looking like a fallen angel in his torn, bloody designer suit and disheveled hair.
Kit took the box and swallowed. He had a bad feeling about this.
Better get it over with. He clicked the lid open.
Inside, on black velvet lining, lay a silver-coloured handgun and three clips loaded with bullets. Two were black; the third was red.
"As glorious as you were with that scalpel," Devlin said, "This ought to be more convenient. Do you know how to use it?"
Kit shook his head.
"I'll have Kosta teach you. Here." He picked up a black clip and showed it to Kit. "Jacketed copper hollow points. These are illegal in war - they are too deadly. Ironic, I know. They do more damage than full mantle bullets, mushrooming inside the body instead of passing through. And these - "
He put down the black clip and lifted the red one, pressing it into position in one swift motion. Click.
" - Are copper and silver full metal jacket bullets."
"Silver?"
"Yes, silver. To kill a werewolf. Or...a vampire."
"Aren't you afraid - "
"That you will use them on me?" He smiled. Flipping the gun around, he wrapped Kit's fingers around the grip. It was a perfect fit.
Kit's eyes widened. Now they were in a mirrored position from their first meeting, Kit pointing the firearm at Devlin's chest. He smiled that close-lipped, cruel smile that the werewolf was already learning to dread.
He flicked the safety back and and pulled Kit forward, pressing the muzzle into his own chest.
"Feels a bit like the roles have been reversed, niet? Now pull the trigger."
The young man had been too stunned to move, but now he bit his lip, mind whirring. He knew it was a trap, but where was the catch?
"Pull the trigger, Kitty. Go on."
Fuck. What kind of a game was this? He had no idea, and was to exhausted to think of one. Screw it, then.
He squeezed the trigger.
And then he didn't. He couldn't. His finger froze, as if paralysed. Glancing down, he flexed his hand and tried squeezing again, concentrating. His hand didn't move. What the...?
"What the Hell?"
Devlin's low laugh rolled over his skin, raising goosebumps, purring.
"You made a vow and sealed it in blood, Kitty. You are mine now."
Ah fuck.