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Oh god, what has he done?
It’s unbearable. It’s unrelenting. It’s torture. Fuck, it may even be worse than Divisadero. It certainly bears a few of the same hallmarks. Like for one, it’s being perpetrated by the same perfect devil.
And two, Daniel can’t fucking move.
Although, therein lies a major difference. Now—while Daniel is immobilized—he’s laid out like a banquet on a luxuriously soft bed, his head cushioned against plush pillows instead of… you know… slamming into the wall. The other major difference is that the predator staring at him isn’t sitting in a chair, eyes blazing, hair all sexy-messy as he fucks around in Daniel’s head. No, he’s lying on his stomach between Daniel’s spread legs with one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him painfully slowly. He's resting his chin on his other hand and looking up at Daniel with a practiced air of innocence, like he isn’t torturing him worse than he did fifty years ago. Daniel can feel his orgasm chasing him down again. Oh God, it’s like the fifteenth time! And predictably, metronomically even, as soon as Daniel is teetering on the precipice of release, Armand removes his hand.
Curse the vampire bond!
“Fuck you,” Daniel grits out.
“How many is that, beloved?” Armand asks in the sickliest, sweetest voice. Like he hasn’t been counting.
“Fifteen,” Daniel says, tugging on the restraints…
Oh, that’s right, he doesn’t have restraints. Not physical ones anyway. Armand has him locked in place using only the power of his mind.
Fuck, it’s so hot.
Another drip of precome drips down Daniel's length. Armand doesn’t touch him, he just crawls up his body to press a hot, wet kiss to his lips. It’s too brief. Daniel tries to chase it when he pulls away.
“You’re doing so well, lover,” he says, settling back between Daniel’s legs. “You’re so beautiful when you suffer for me.”
It had been Daniel’s idea of course. Take the horror that was having his body manipulated in San Francisco and turn it into something hot. He’d pitched the idea to Armand, who had looked in equal measures intrigued and cautious. He hadn’t used that particular power on Daniel after their initial meet-cute from hell. He’d sworn off it, at least where Daniel was concerned. But when Daniel suggested he harness those powers for good instead of evil it hadn't taken long for Armand to enthusiastically agree.
That’s another major difference between now and 1973. Now their kink practice is safe (enough), sane (welllllll…), and consensual (hell yeah).
Armand leans in closer to where Daniel’s cock is throbbing, he takes it back in his hand and brings it to his lips. His breath ghosts over it and Daniel groans. He paints it with a few gentle kitten licks that would have Daniel squirming like crazy if he wasn’t currently in telekinetic bondage (fuck, that’s a term that would have sent young Mister I’m-into-counter-cultures Molloy’s head spinning).
“You’ve always had such a beautiful cock,” Armand says between peppering frustratingly light kisses up and down his length. “It has always fit so perfectly inside me. Like it was designed only for that purpose. Created only for me.”
Fuck.
When he says shit like that… while he’s doing that… it’s a wonder Daniel hasn’t fucking exploded all over his face.
“It looks like it aches, beloved,” he says, releasing it again. “Perhaps it’s time we give it a break.”
Daniel whines. “Baby, please…”
“Don’t fret, my darling.” Armand has a devilish look in his eyes. “There are always other parts of you I can play with.”
In a second, Daniel’s knees are pushed up against his chest, thighs spread, ass fully on display. Armand hasn’t touched him. No, he did all that with his mind.
Fuck.
Another trickle of precome drips onto his stomach.
Armand glances over to the nightstand and telekinetically retrieves the lube. Then he’s slicking his fingers. Then he’s swirling one lithe digit around and around Daniel’s greedy hole. Five minutes or a century passes before he finally pushes in and rubs against his prostate. Daniel lets out another pathetic whine and his cock twitches against his stomach. Armand adds a second finger. Daniel is going to die. Sure, vampires are immortal… whatever… Armand is going to find a way to pleasure him to death.
Then the weirdest thing happens, which is saying a lot given everything Daniel has seen. Armand, who is now three fingers deep in his ass is staring intently at Daniel’s swollen cock. His irises are doing that crazy-hot vibrating thing they do when he’s locked the fuck in. Then Daniel feels it. A hand wrapped around his length again, a familiar touch, a perfect pressure. It starts stroking him. Daniel is so strung out it takes him a minute to register what’s happening.
Armand is literally mind-fucking him.
Holy shit!
It’s too much. Armand flexing his powers has always been Daniel’s biggest turn-on. The telekinesis is a particular favorite. But for him to use it like this. This is on another level. This has just opened his third eye. This is going to ruin him forever.
Pleasure shoots up Daniel’s spine. He clenches so hard around Armand’s fingers he thinks they might snap off. His fangs unsheathe and he lets out a primal groan as his cock kicks against his stomach. He comes so hard, he ends up with some of it on his glasses.
But Armand doesn’t stop. He’s un-fucking-relenting. His mind and his fingers are still working him through it and beyond. Daniel is seeing stars. He still can’t move. He’s so oversensitive he’s going to start sobbing. But still, Armand lies there between his legs, playing Daniel’s body like he’s a fucking virtuoso. Wringing more and more out of him until it hurts.
It’s torture. But Armand’s torture has always been Daniel’s favorite.
Another difference between Divisadero and now. Now they have a safe word.
Not that Daniel ever plans to use it.