~ My first erotic story! Thoughts, feelings and constructive criticisms welcome, enjoy xo

Word count: 4,293 ~

The light from the old television set flickers, casting an eerie glow throughout the otherwise dimly lit crypt as the old black-and-white "Dracula" plays quietly. The shadows bounce off of Slade's sharp features while he lounges in his plush black leather armchair, leisurely sipping from a glass, half-filled with a dark crimson liquid.

Persephone sits at his feet, her slender legs curled up beneath her, her big hazel eyes glued eagerly to the television screen, watching Bela Lugosi's Dracula charm Mina Harker.

Slade has always loved a good old-fashioned Vampire film, but tonight, his attention is more focused on Persephone than the drama playing out on the screen. He enjoys the way she watches the movie unfold, leaning forward in anticipation when suspense is building, and gasping when something exciting happens.

Slade clutches his glass of blood in one hand and reaches down with his other hand, lightly running his fingers through Persephone's auburn curls. A fond smirk plays across his lips as she leans into his touch.

They were an unlikely pairing, the two of them, yet together, they were a match made in Hell. They found each other while they were both lonely and in pain; he could remember it as if it were yesterday.

Back in 1978 when Slade spent the better part of his days lurking in the subways and spending all night at punk clubs in search of victims to feed from. All of it, he did with his mate Dahlia by his side. Together, they would drink from punkers, some nights even get high off the blood of junkies and wreak havoc upon the city. Until the night Slade came back to the old factory in the Bowery and found Dahlia in bed with two other Vampires. When he confronted her about it, she claimed quite bluntly that she had grown bored of him.

He never saw her again after that night. Without Dahlia, Slade spent the next several weeks in a haze of blood, alcohol, cocktails of drugs, and a blur of punk shows; during this time, he vaguely remembered partying with Iggy Pop and drinking heroin from Sid Vicious, however, he was in such a haze at the time, he was never sure of what had been real or not.

Regardless of all the blood baths and wreckless partying, Slade was heartbroken deep down inside without Dahlia by his side to partake in the madness with him. He felt like a piece of him was missing. Until that fateful night when he was wandering through the alleyways in Brooklyn, chainsmoking and on his way to the liquor store for a fresh bottle of Jack, when he stumbled upon Persephone, battered and bleeding like she had been tortured, lying in a pile of trash behind a laundromat. He recognized her species immediately by the distinct ridges on her face, running along the length of her nose and forehead, and the sacred sigils that adorned her flesh: a Revenge Demon. They were a rare breed of Demon, sent to Earth to punish the ignorant by carrying out curses upon their chosen victims, and occasionally help those who sought vengeance upon their enemies.

As Slade discovered, she had indeed been tortured by a group of men who had sought their own revenge on Persephone for cursing one of their friends quite brutally by forcing him to vomit maggots- ones that specifically ate human flesh, outside or inside.

Slade was always unsure of what came over him at that moment when he saw Persephone lying there, but despite the natural rivalry between their species, he felt a semblance of pity for her. So Slade took her back to the factory. Like Vampires, Demons heal fast, and Slade nursed her back to health the way he knew best- old No. 7 and time. He did this with the intention of gaining Persephone's favor to exact his vengeance against Dahlia and leave her no choice but to come crawling back to him; in his mind, he hoped for this in the literal sense. Yet, when the time finally came and Persephone asked what she could possibly do in return for his tenderness, the thought of Dahlia escaped his mind for the first time since he met her decades ago, and all he asked was for Persephone to join him in raining chaos upon the human race.

Slade found a fierce loyalty in Persephone, who was utterly devoted to the man who nursed her back to health and exacted revenge of his own upon the men who had harmed her. She cursed enemies foolish enough to sabotage their schemes or had simply crossed paths with them. Thus, their bond grew closer, and they found love budding in the midst of the chaos. While Slade was captivated by the Demoness, whose bluntness suggested both disdain for human life, yet carried an air of innocence concerning the world surrounding her. While her radiant beauty held him hostage more so than any man she had ever seduced during the millenniums she reigned indescribable chaos among the selfish.

Now, nearly two and a half decades after their first encounter, Slade and Persephone were inseparable and wreaking havoc upon the hunters who pursued them.

But there were no plans for causing any havoc tonight - at least, not above ground.

Slade takes a long sip from his glass. He watches Persephone lean forward, eagerly watching the television as Doctor Van Helsing and Jonathan Harker discover Dracula's missing reflection and decide to confront him about it. Dracula swats the mirror away in horror and Persephone scoffs.

"Vampires aren't afraid of mirrors." There is a brief silence, occupied by the film's orchestra before Persephone turns her head and looks back at Slade, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. "Right?" She asks.

Slade chuckles fondly, his fingers still mindlessly dancing through Persephone's curls. "No Love, we're not afraid of mirrors. They just make it all dramatic for Hollywood." He explains and takes a sip from his glass.

Persephone nods understandingly, and her gaze returns to the television, "That makes sense - I've never seen you react to a mirror like that."

Slade allows the remainder of the scene to play out before he sets his glass on the end table to his right and picks up the remote, shutting off the television- prompting Persephone to look back at him.

"Hey!" She exclaims, "I wanted to see the Vampire kill the mean doctor who scared him." She pouts theatrically, crossing her arms and sticking out her bottom lip, in a way that resembles Tinkerbell.

"Well, then I'm afraid you wouldn't like the ending very much, Love." Slade replies. He sinks down more comfortably in his seat, and with a wicked smirk that means nothing but trouble, he pats his thigh. "Come sit up here with me. I want to talk to you."

Persephone hesitates, looking up at him with skepticism, her eyes narrowing. "I hope it's not about those hunters. They remind me of that mean Doctor Van Helsing and his evil mirror."

"No, no..." Slade coos. His hand travels down Persephone's back, his thumb rubbing soft circles on her spine, "nothing about them tonight, I promise. Tonight is all about you."

Her eyes light up, and Slade doesn't have to ask her a second time. "In that case..." Her voice trails off as she eagerly rises from her place on the floor and climbs into Slade's lap, her halter-styled red lace nightgown clinging to her curves beautifully. Slade lets out a satisfied him as she straddles his lap, his hands instinctively coming to rest on her waist, feeling the warmth of her curves through her negligée. Persephone settles into his lap and wraps her arms around his shoulders. She looks up at him with those ever-curious hazel eyes and a sweet smile spread across her pink lips - dimples proudly showing.

"What do you want to talk about?" She asks.

Slade, seemingly mesmerized by the Demoness in his lap, reaches up with his left hand and cups her cheek, his thumb tracing along her bottom lip as he gazes at her. "You've been such a good girl for me lately..." He purrs, his voice dropping to a low seductive tone. "Cursing all the Hunter's henchmen - showing them who's truly in charge now... Mmm... and what about all those nasty boils you gave that Priest, hm? I've never seen anything so vile." He leans in, capturing Persephone's bottom lip between his teeth, growling softly and sucking on her bottom lip slowly, savoring the taste of her strawberry-flavored lip gloss before he releases it again.

Persephone moans, dipping her head down to press a kiss to Slade's lips. He lets out a low chuckle against her lips and returns the favor, adding a flair of fervor as he deepens the kiss. Their lips part with a soft smack, and she looks at him sweetly.

"You're the one who asked for vengeance. I only granted it." She explains, running her fingers through the bleached blonde hair at the nape of Slade's neck.

He shakes his head, "But you made it happen my vile Goddess; and for that, I think you deserve a reward."

Persephone cocks an eyebrow, "What kind of reward?" She asks.

"Your wish is my command." He captures her lips in another kiss, the heat of the tension between them growing more intolerable with each passing second.

"I like it better when you tell me what to do." She remarks, her voice a delicate whisper against Slade's lips.

"Is that so?" Slade asks with a low growl, his grip on her waist tightening as he pulls her in closer until their bodies are flush against one another.

Persephone nods, "Mhmm...."

Slade's blue eyes darken with desire, that wicked smirk curling across his lips once more, "Then go stand against that pillar for me." He orders, nodding toward the object in question. He releases his grip on Persephone's waist and waits patiently for her to obey his command, which she does without hesitation; she rises from his lap and with soft bare-footfalls echoing through the crypt, she makes her way through the reaching shadows toward the tall pillar where she leans with her back against the cold intricately carved stone.

He reaches for his glass and takes a long slow sip, those eyes of his gleaming in the dark, admiring the sight of his Demoness standing against the stone, putting the other statues of Saints and Angels to shame. He lets the blood sit on his tongue, savoring the flavor like a fine liquor as he returns the glass to the table and rises to his feet with a grace that belies his tall stature. He saunters toward Persephone, his tongue peeking out to lick a drop of blood from his sneering upper lip. Standing before her, he reaches out and runs a cold finger along her collarbone, watching with enjoyment as her breaths quicken. His other hand trails down her torso, following her curves down to the dip of her waist, gazing deeply into her wide eyes, watching the anticipation build inside of her until both of his hands are resting firmly on her hips. He pushes her back against the pillar and Persephone gasps softly from both the cold stone and Slade's body pressing against her; his larger form entirely silhouettes her smaller figure, engulfing her within the shadows.

Slade dips his head down, bringing his lips to Persephone's ear, "Do you know what kind of reward I think you deserve, my Sweet Demoness?" He asked, his voice breathy, low, barely above a whisper. He takes his ear lobe between his lips, dragging it between his teeth, making her gasp.

"Yes..." She breathes, nodding her head, "Tell me please."

He releases her ear then whispers with a growl: "You deserve to be worshipped like the Demoness of destruction you are... until every inch of your body is trembling, I think that's a fitting reward... don't you, my Sweet?"

Persephone pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and nods again, faster this time, eagerness clear in her eyes. Slade grips the backs of her thighs and with a swift yet effortless motion, he lifts her into his arms. She squeals in surprise and giggles breathlessly in excitement, clinging to Slade and linking her ankles around his hips. His fingers dig into her thighs where her nightgown rose up, his grip firm enough to leave bruises behind which fade away as swiftly as they appear. He raises her body so her chest aligns with his lips; he kisses her neck hungrily, loving the feel of her veins pulsing with each beat of excitement that emanates from her immortal heart. He nips at her skin lightly, eliciting sweet gasps and moans from between her red lips. His kiss travel lower, his lips nestling between the pale mounds of Persephone's ample cleavage peaking put from the top of the negligée.

Persephone moans out, arching her back and leaning further into Slade's cool lips; the sensation sends goosebumps across her flesh, her insides humming and aching with desire. Two and a half decades and he still gave her goosebumps when she felt his kiss on her body.

Slade runs his palms up the smooth pale flesh of Persephone's thighs, sliding her nightgown up her slender curves and over her creamy white orbs. He presses a kiss to each of her pink nipples, aroused from the cold, pulling one between his teeth, making her shudder. He slips his fingers into the waistline of her panties, sliding them down her legs, letting them fall into the shadows below. He slips a hand between her supple thighs, growling low in his throat as he feels the warmth of her need between her legs. He parts her moist folds, soft as dewy rose petals, gathering her slickness onto his fingertips and bringing it to her little bundle of nerves. Persephone gasps and her head falls back against the pillar. He begins to circle her clit with swift het smooth motions, and her fingertips d into his shoulders. Slade knows her body so well, touching her is like playing an instrument. He follows the sounds she makes, he figures out what she is missing- what she needs the most- and he gives it to her, completing the symphony. Slade dips his index and middle fingers inside her, listening to the way she gasps quietly in surprise. He circles her clit with his thumb as he slowly moves his fingers in and out of her, curling them just right, making her whimper and grasp onto him harder. He can feel her moisture building, growing slicker beneath his fingertips, making his own desire grow until he can take no more. He craves her more than blood.

Slade runs his other hand up her spine to the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in her curls and tilting her head back further, exposing her neck. He kisses his way back up the length of her neck, withdrawing his fingers from her heat. Persephone whines at the sudden emptiness, but Slade's lips crash into hers, swallowing up the sound as their lips reunite in heated passion.

Persephone's hands clamor for Slade's clothing, her fingers begin to eagerly work to unbutton Slade's shirt, the dark fabric falling away to reveal his pale flesh and the hard planes of his chest. Slade helps her to remove it, overcome by his own desperation, he tears it from his shoulders, ripping the fabric and breaking a button in the process. He tosses the shreds of fabric to the floor, joining the shadows.

Persephone runs her palms down Slade's torso and reaches for his belt buckle. She can see the bulge in Slade's jeans and the sight only makes her more eager. Perhaps too eager, as her fingertips tremble softly, making it difficult for her to maneuver the leather through the buckle.

"Mmm... so needy." Slade purrs, playfully nipping at  her neck "Want your reward, do you, Baby?"

"Mhmm... yes..." Persephone nods, her eyes never leaving her fingers. "I want it now."

Slade peers down, watching her pull the belt free from its buckle, and her dainty fingers reach hastily for his zipper. The sight of her fingers shaking in excitement, and the urgency in her motions only serves to make Slade want her even more, if that was possible- his jeans were feeling more like a vice than a piece of clothing.

Persephone tugs Slade's jeans down enough for his member to spring out, hard and heavy against her stomach. She can't help but stop and stare, licking her lips, eyes full of need. She looks up at him, her bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes pleading.

"Slade, please...." She says, her voice a whimper that echoes through the stone chamber like a squeak from a mouse.

Slade kisses her neck, "Don't worry, Love..." He murmurs into her ear, then kisses her lips, "I'll give it to you." He places his left hand on her back, right at the swell of her hips, his inhuman strength holding her in place effortlessly. He lifts her up just a little bit more, their eyes locking. "Hold on, I've got you."

He takes his cock in his free hand, directing himself into her pink folds, lowering her onto him, inch by decadent inch. Persephone clings to Slade, moaning softly, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Shh... that's it, Love..." He whispers, his voice gruff and breathless.

He fills her until she is practically impaled on him, their bodies flush against each other. Her back is pinned against the cold stone. Cold Vampyric flesh against hot Demonic skin.

Persephone looks at him with those big brown eyes, her cheeks flushing pink. Slade moves in a steady rhythm, gaining speed with each thrust, sliding in and out of her moisture with ease. Their moans echo off the crypt's stone walls in a combined symphony of pleasure. Slade whispers sweet nothings and praises to her. Persephone's breasts, on full display, bouncing up and down against Slade's chest with each powerful thrust. He takes her mounds within his palms, squeezing and molding the sweet supple flesh in his large calloused hands. Her moans and delicate whines grow louder; his grunts and growls more feral. Slade moves with inhuman speed, each deep thrust sending her closer to ecstasy. Her legs tighten around his waist, the muscles in her thighs beginning to tremble.

"S-Slade, I'm gonna-- oh!" Her words are cut off by a high-pitched moan as the pleasure building within her body suddenly intensifies.

Slade dragged his teeth along her neck, "Cum for me, my Pet," He growls, "let me feel my vile Goddess tremble." He slips a hand between their bodies, his fingers applying pressure to her clit, matching the pace of his thrusts as he rubs her tiny pink nub.

"Slade! Oh, honey!" Persephone exclaims, "Fuck!" She tosses her head back and her entire body begins to shudder with the force of her climax.

Slade clamps down on her neck, right as she reaches the peak of ecstasy. He drives into her faster, harder, through her body-quivering orgasm; adding to the pleasure. Her walls pulse around him, her veins pound against his teeth, and her juices coat his cock just as surely as the blood he drinks from her soaks his tongue.

Her body is still shuddering when Slade pulls out of her, and a drop of her juices drips down her inner thigh. Even her body was crying out for more. "Don't stop, please don't stop..." She pleads, her cheeks flushed in post-orgasmic bliss.

Slade releases her neck, leaving two small holes in place, and his lips smeared with her blood. "I'm not stopping, Love..." He captures her lips with a hungry kiss, sharing the metallic taste of her life force with her. "Not until I make you scream again." He holds onto her tight and lifts her back from the pillar. He carries her deeper into the crypt to an alcove deep within the shadows, where a large queen-sized bed sits, and he lays Persephone down on top of the red velvet sheets.

Slade positions himself above her, and Persephone reaches for him needily, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. He secures her legs on his waist and slides back into her with a low growl. His movements are slow and deep, continuing with the same rhythm. Her pussy is still sensitive, tight around Slade's cock like a vice; her moans turn to whimpers into the kiss while he growls and groans at the pleasure the combined sensation delivered.

"So tight... so wet." He purrs.

He starts to pound into her faster, harder, making the bed creak under the intensity. The intimate erotic sound of their bodies slapping together echoes through the crypt.

Persephone spreads her legs as wide as she possibly can, desperate to feel Slade just a bit deeper. "More, please... more...." She begs.

He hears the need in her voice and lifts her left leg over his shoulder- the new angle sending him right into that little patch of heaven inside of her that made her see stars. She gasps and her pink toes curl. Her hand instinctively reaches for the pillow behind her head, her dainty fingers clutching the fabric so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Slade grasps both of her wrists, pinning her arms there above her head. Her body was entirely exposed, her pale flesh covered in a light shimmer of sweat, mixing with the blood dripping down her neck to her chest, making her appear like a decadent dessert laid out beneath Slade. His lip return to her neck, his tongue flicking over the already healed wound, lapping up the blood that remained.

He slips a hand between their bodies, his other hand keeping her leg in place. He places his thumb on her clit, applying just enough pressure and circling her bundle of nerves with the same rhythm, making Persephone squeal with pleasure.

The sensation makes it so hard for her to hold back, and she could already feel that familiar pressure building in her hips. She can feel her abdomen grow tighter and tighter with each thrust, each little circle; she felt like she was about to come undone again at any second.

"I'm so close again..." She pants out, her voice breaking. "I'm so close..."

The muscles in her thigh tighten and grow tense over Slade's shoulder, and he can feel her muscles trembling, outside and inside.

"That's it, my Love..." He whispers, pressing his forehead against hers and a kiss to her lips. "Come for me again, Baby."

A curl of his bleached hair comes free of its gel, falling in his face. His thrusts grow wilder, his own climax approaching him like a speeding bullet. He releases his grip on Persephone's wrist and grips her hips instead to pound into her harder.

Persephone can't utter a word. The only sound that escaped her lips were frantic whimpers and whines as she felt her walls tighten around Slade, and her second orgasm suddenly came crashing over her- one more intense than the first, whipping through her petite body. She clutches onto Slade's shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving small bloody half-moon marks behind. Her eyes flutter shut in bliss, but only for a moment, she quickly opens her eyes again, wanting to look into Slade's eyes as they both come undone.

Slade slams into her one final time, letting out a roar of satisfaction. He holds himself there deep inside her, letting out a roar of satisfaction, emptying his seed into her; his cock pulsing with each stream he releases into her.

Persephone holds Slade close, her arms even trembling around his shoulders and panting against his still chest as she came down from her high.

Persephone held Slade close, her arms still wrapped around his shoulders as she came down from her high, panting against his still chest. Slade kisses her cheek, her lips, then he looks down at her, tenderly brushing her auburn curls away from her sweat-soaked forehead. It took a lot to wear out a Demon, especially Revenge Demons, infamous for their high stamina; looking into Persephone's hazy hooded eyes, Slade knows he has done well. He leaves another kiss on her forehead and slowly pulls out of her, gingerly setting her leg down and collapsing beside her.

But before the pair settled into bed too comfortably, Slade sits up and reaches for the covers. Persephone whines needily reaching out and grabbing for Slade.

"Shh... I'm not going anywhere, Love." He whispers to her softly.

He lies back down beside her, lifting the velvet covers over their bodies. He wraps his arms around his Demoness, holding her close to his chest. Persephone snuggles up to him, resting her head on his chest, a blissful smile across her lips.

"I feel all floaty." She murmurs sleepily, her dimples showing sweetly.

Slade smiles upon her fondly as his cool fingertips run through her curls soothingly. "Rest now, Love. We've got lots of hell to raise tomorrow."

"Mm... that sounds very exciting." She smiles, nuzzling her forehead against Slade's chest.

Although there was no heartbeat to be heard, she could feel his love for her coursing through his veins. She had a lot of enemies in this world, but she can sleep peacefully at night knowing that Slade was here to protect her; and when the sun set, and it was the dusk of a new night, they could set out to destroy their enemies, one by one. Together.

My skeleton is growing weary

I fear

It won't be able to carry me much longer

When I can no longer bear

The weight of my own

Ribs

Will you be my spine and carry me?

Creature of the night

Son of darkness, born of blood

I've built a pagan temple

In my heart, just for you

And I don't care what they think

Black leather baddie

Blood drainer, won't you be my Daddy?

They all say

I'll end up burning in Hell

For worshipping you, the way that I do

But I don't care

I know it's wrong but I can't resist

Bruising my knees, just for you

Your hands in my hair

Back against the stone of a crypt

I look up at you, unholy killer

Without you

I don't know what I'd do

And I know that's it wrong

But I'm in love with you