Affirmation: A Lemon
They made it to the condo with plenty of the night left before them.
There was only one thing they wanted to do: reaffirm they were still among the undead.
The door had barely closed behind them before what remained of their clothing (they had been pawing at each other since before they left the Queen’s compound) was in shreds on the floor and she was pressed up against the wall with his cock buried deep inside her bare moments (or was it eons?) later.
The sounds coming from them were animalistic, primal. They were at their most basic right then. This was no gentle love making. This was the wild rutting of animals fresh from a glorious fight!
Every surface: walls, floors, furniture, counters, beds, ceiling.
Every position they could conceive of.
Words she would never use under normal circumstances.
Words she would have blushed at hearing less than a year before.
They were exhilarated! Flying high!
They were a blur of movement as he drove into her, viciously, over and over again, as she rode him, as they devoured each other with their bodies and mouths.
Unaware of their surroundings. Unaware of anything other than each other and their proximation to each other at any given moment in time.
Dawn came and went and still they were going, never slowing until the sun finally claimed them both somewhere near midday.
It continued that night, each claiming the other. Letting one and all know they belonged to each other, none could, or would, come between them.
When they finally slowed it was to feed their bloodlust then they were on each other again, never slowing, giving no quarter.
Finally the sexual lust abated enough for them to evaluate their surroundings. They stood there and shook their heads, laughing, at the destruction they had wrought.
What hadn’t been broken had been torn from the walls and ceiling. Even the beds were in pieces around them.
By all estimations it’s a good night when you leave the place a shambles and this had been more than a good night. It had been…words failed her but she knew how she felt and she felt like she had been caught in a hurricane.
She snickered, “Eric, did we just survive Hurricane Lust?”
He laughed heartily, “I believe we did. Want to see what Tropical Storm Lustful can do to what’s left?”
She backed away from him, fangs down, and took off through the house jumping hurdles of overturned furniture, dodging dislodged appliances right down into the basement where she saw what she wanted against the far wall.
By the time he caught up to her she had herself chained to the wall, a wonderfully evil smile on her face, “Fuck me Viking, where I stand.”
He did more than just fuck her but that’s a story for another time.
They finally made it home the next night, still riding the waves of their exhilaration.