Echo groaned loudly as the Witch's small hand brushed over him, her elegant fingers working his pants open at the fastening button. There was something incredibly lewd in the assault of shooting pains as his pleasure forced him roughly against the fabric, against her, and he flinched. His resolve began to crumble, and he snarled savagely as her warm breath breezed over his ear, and he lips brushed against his neck. His hand, which had been teasing her core with long, drawn-out stokes, moved to his fly. He couldn't be sure if the freedom his erection had been striving for came as a relief, however, or more torture. He was so incredibly aroused it was mind-boggling, and it became blatantly apparent the moment he sprang free of his confines.<br/><br/>He flipped her again, pushing Seria upright with his sheer size rather than strength, and forcing her over onto her back. Gravity slipped his trousers down over his hips as he positioned himself between her splayed thighs, and his mouth moved to her throat. He held her tightly against him as he ravished her, his lethal fangs grazing her skin while his strong hands worked her hips and legs with the gentlest of touches, guiding her long limbs around his waist as he steadied himself against her. There was a moments pause, a fraction of a second in which he'd allow her to pull away, all the while the heat radiating from her center provoked his unyielding manhood to twitch and strain and swell beyond any measure he'd known he was capable. And then to plunged himself forwards.<br/><br/>His jaws clamped shut as he sank himself deep inside her narrow, welcoming body, his gratified purr muffled against the tender skin of her trapezious while hot, crimson liquid flooded his mouth. He'd avoided any main arteries, thus the flow of blood was tauntingly steady, but it was no less sweet and incredibly erotic as Seria devoured him inch-by-inch. His body trembled in pleasure as her inner walls caressed him with such eminent tenderness he thought his mind might just implode, and it took every ounce of his dwindling self restrained and more to refrain from slamming her immediately against the headboard. But her body was mortal and he had promised to be gentle, thus he reluctantly allowed her a moment to grow accustomed to his profuse girth before, with tentative resolve, Echo's hips rolled back, and they began an inborn custom as old as the natural world itself. If there was such a thing as heaven on earth, Echo was quite sure God had hidden it between this woman's legs.<br/><br/>Perverted old fuck.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>The morning was as overcast as the night had been; the fog coating the streets remained stubbornly, although it appeared less thick in the light of a miserable dawn than it had during the blackness of the night. Echo had been roused from a rare few hours of deep sleep by a slither of dull golden rays streaming through the crack in the curtains. The scent of burning flesh was profound, as was the intense stinging of his rear, and the Dhampir was quick to wrench a few layers of blankets over his naked body the moment his unusually sluggish mind digested what was occurring. He was rather thankful that he'd been sprawled face-down at that moment.<br/><br/>Blessedly the scorched strip of flesh began to mend itself the moment it was shielded from the daylight, and the Estonian man settled back into the soft folds of the dismayed mass of sheets and pillows, and closed his eyes. Sleep would not return, of course, and he was well aware that he should be preparing to leave, but he'd not felt so relaxed nor comfortable – so safe – in more than a hundred years. It was a moment to be savored, and he would do so for as long a time as he could allow. After all, it was a precarious thought that he might be permitted such a luxury again, and certainly not while Avgust and his men were so close.