"He'll recognize you quickly. Just hold still when he bites so it doesn't tear," Jonathon said, holding my gaze.
"I'll be good," I said, smiling as Jonathon rumbled, leaning in to kiss my brow.
"I know. You always are."
There was a thrill of awareness but also a comforting warmth at that praise, and then Jonathon turned us to a stone hall that opened out into a wine cellar. Another trick door, with a gentle rattle of old bottles, and we stepped into a small compartment lit only by one candle. In front of us was an old wooden door, and I wondered how long this room had existed here and what protected Auguste inside when he was in his sleep.
"It's generally locked, but I did hint to him we might come down," Jonathon said with a shrug.
I relaxed a little at that, relieved to know I wasn't about to disrupt Auguste's privacy completely, and stepped forward. The handle was old iron, and it stuck at first, the door groaning as I pushed it open.
I'd expected a room similar to the spaces we'd just passed through, cold stone and rough dirt floors, but of course, that wasn't suited to Auguste at all. The room inside was warm, lit faintly by rosy orbs near the door. The floor was layered with more dense soft carpets, and the walls were paneled with dark wood and jacquard wallpaper. It was a romantic space, close and intimate, and the main focus was the enormous four-poster bed directly in front of me, draped in thin silk and curtains of velvet.
I could just make out Auguste on the bed, glowing in red sheets. It wasn't a coffin, or a grave, but a beautifully welcoming picture, one I wanted to slide directly into. I untied the robe around my waist and did exactly that, running my fingers over the fabric surrounding the bed and then pushing it aside. Auguste looked like a painting, an angel collapsed in its fall from heaven. I tugged on the sheet draped over his hips, watching the reveal of his still form inch by inch with a hungry gaze. It was strange to see him lying there, breathless, but he didn't look dead to me, just like a work of art. One I was allowed to touch.
I glanced over my shoulder to find Jonathon watching, leaning against one of the posters, and he nodded at me.
"Go on. I'll join in a moment or two."
I bit my lip, crawling forward, smiling at the brief grunt from Jonathon as he admired the view of me. Auguste's arms were tossed above his head, body slightly angled on one hip, one knee bent and the other leg stretched to the edge of the bed. I ran my hand up the long leg, testing my grip on his thigh, watching his face for any movement.
"How do I get him hard?" I whispered, even though Auguste was obviously far from overhearing us.
"How do you usually?" Jonathon asked with humor.
I straddled my slumbering vampire, bending down to kiss his shoulders, his chest, pushing at his hip to roll him fully onto his back. He was heavier like this, and there was something frighteningly thrilling to know he was entirely oblivious to what I was up to, as if I were suddenly the predator. I reached for his cock, wrapping my fingers around his base, nibbling at one of his nipples, and was surprised to find it jump in my palm.
"It's his brain that's offline not—" I flashed Jonathon an arch look and he rolled his eyes. "Yes, fine. Lessons later. Hurry, you can't have much more time before sunset."
True, and this wasn't really about teasing Auguste awake like it had been with Jonathon this morning. I fisted Auguste's cock fully, pumping it as it swelled and stiffened in my hand.
"Here," Jonathon murmured, handing a small, ornate pitcher of oil.
I smirked back at him, spilling some into my palm and stroking it onto Auguste's cock. "What's this here for?" I teased.
It was hard to tell in the already red light of the room, but I was fairly sure Jonathon blushed as he shrugged. "Can never be too prepared."
I scooted forward to hover over Auguste's now long and stiff cock, holding it in my hand and sighing as I rubbed the head of it against my clit and down to my opening, back and forth until the glide was slippery.
"You have a very intoxicating expression when you're seeing to your own pleasure," Jonathon said softly.
My eyes fell shut, lips curling as I sighed and sank onto Auguste's cock. I toyed with myself as I worked him into me, swirling my finger over my clit, plucking my nipples, and gripping my breasts, my eyes opening to admire the sight of a sleeping Auguste. He really was helpless like this, and it made my heart pang at the thought that anyone might be able to harm him in this state if they could reach him. And directly adjacent to that worry was the knowledge that he was, for the moment, entirely at my mercy and completely safe with me.
"Does he feel good?" Jonathon asked, words low and quiet, barely audible beneath the slick sounds of my riding.
"So good, always," I sighed out, picking up my pace, forgetting that at any moment, Auguste would wake and my control would evaporate. Maybe I could get myself off before he even woke? If I was quick…
My eyes were fixed to Auguste's relaxed face, a soft moan rising, when suddenly, he transformed.
I was in the air, my wrists snatched in an iron-tight grip, an animal's snarl and black eyes rushing for me. Auguste pinned my arms behind my back in one quick motion, taking them both in one hand and using the other to grip the back of my neck. His fangs slid into my throat in one quick, brutal bite. I froze, my heart stopping in my chest, my eyes wide on the dark look in Jonathon's gaze, the ache of the bite burning up quickly.
Auguste moaned, his jaw relaxing, and shuddered against me, but his grip didn't ease, his hips lifting and snapping in a sudden rush so he clapped into me. My blood welled at the wound on my neck, fire on my flesh, sliding into Auguste's waiting mouth, and I released a small cry. Auguste trapped me in his arms, fucking and feeding from me in a starving rush. His tongue lapped around the bite of his teeth, gathering the blood, and his growl vibrated into my throat, echoing the thrum of pressure and pace beating into my cunt with his thrusts.
Slowly, and without stopping his fucking, Auguste lowered me onto the mattress, hips pistoning into me, pushing me deeper into the sheets, insatiably powerful on top of me. He released my arms and his teeth finally unlatched, and he let the wound seep into his now kissing and caressing lips.
"Oh god, Auguste, yes," I whimpered as his angle shifted, stroking inside of me, driving any thought but him from my mind.
Jonathon loomed behind us, the robe now shed, and my eyes widened as his shining fingers reached down to Auguste's ass.
Auguste went rigid on top of me, his head finally lifting, eyes wild and mouth streaked and glossy with my blood. "Fuck!" His bucking grew rough and irregular, trying to burrow deeper into me to avoid Jonathon's probing touch. "Oh fuck, the pair of you. Mon coeur, are you—?"