Cunning little vampire | By : Lisachan Category: +. to F > Count Cain Views: 3929 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Count Cain, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: I don’t own Count Cain and the
other characters in this fic, they belong to Kaori Yuki, I e I envy very much
for her talent.
Spoiler warning: Don’t read if you haven’t read the 3rd volume of Count Cain.
Not only will it spoil the outcome at the ending, but also, you won’t have a
clue what scene I’m starting from.
Pairings: Riff/Cain
Summary: This is the part in the manga where Dr. Allan catches Riff sitting in
the forest with Justine about to bite him on the neck. What could happen after
he’s gone?
Lots of thanks to Shenlong for the beta
reading!
Cunning
little vampire
Cain
saw him standing there in the forest. A man with long white hair and
ridiculously small glasses on the bridge of his nose. A man that went by the
name of Doctor Allan. Even from this distance, he saw the surprise register in
those deceivingly naive eyes. He had recognized them. Why was Riff sitting
there on the grass with that girl? The girl he thought was Justine. Wait, what
was she doing? She leaned forward, opened her mouth to ’s o’s offered neck,
opened her demon-like eyes wide and held her maniacally laughing mouth ready to
sink her fangs into her poor victim’s artery. Oh, the horror it was when she
spearedtor tor Allan amongst the bushes with that devastating gaze. One look
around… and they had disappeared.
Cain
nearly doubled over with laughter at the terrified expression they had conjured
upon the suspicious doctor’s face. Carefully peering around the tree, he saw
the man helplessly staring around, and again he broke out in disgraceful
hiccups.
“My
Lord, I suggest you keep it down. We don’t want him to hear us,” Riff tried to
shush his master, noting with satisfaction how the long haired man knelt down
and picked up the earring they had left there on purpose.
“I
know, Riff. After all this trouble we went through,” Cain said with an annoyed
look down at the sumptuous and excessive dress he was wearing. “It would be a
shame to ruin it all.”
“Not
only a shame, my Lord. It would be fatal for the correct execution of our plan.
Need I remind you that we are trying to lure him into showing his true
identity?” Riff pointed out.
“You’re
quite right, as always,” the young count sighed wearily, wiping a few black
locks away from the wig he was still wearing. “Do you think he bought it?”
“Judging
by his face, I think we did a pretty good job, my Lord,” Riff smiled dignified.
Cain
laughed airily in that haughty way only a rich kid could. Rich and spoiled.
Abused by his father, forgotten by his mother, but spoiled rotten by his
personal butler.
He
threw his arms around Riff and in the process caused the man to fall down to
his knees. His mouth was again level with the long, smooth neck and they were
in the perfect position to replay the scene.
“Oh,
my dear Riff. Aren’t we just two geniuses together?” he sighed.
Riff
was startled to find the young man around his neck all of a en, en, and only a
few moments later, his mouth in the same place. His warm breath ghosted over
the soft skin and made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end.
“My
Lord,” he breathed. “What are you doing?” Again that haughty laugh tickled his
ear, and a delicate hand removed the hairs that were still in the way. “Do you
really think I would do such a thing, Riff? To bite you?”
Riff
was too surprised to produce any intelligible sound. The adrenaline rushed
through his body like a freight train with those sharp teeth balancing above
his tender flesh. He trusted his master, the mutual trust they shared among
each other went beyond anything else. But the past events had been so
confusing. The legend of a young girl roaming around at night under the form of
a vampire chilling every person in his right mind to the bone, was the fuel for
everyone’s suspicion. One of the rumors said that the girl was possessed by the
spirit of Lady Gertrude. Could it be that his master all of a sudden was
possessed by some evil spirit too?
He
held his breath as he felt Cain leaning even closer, and shut his eyes tightly
as he indeed felt his teeth descending on his neck. He bit him, but very
softly, only scraping in fact. A little love-bite. A wet slickness there made
him open his eyes wide again, and he quickly pulled away. That had been no
teeth. More like his tongue.
“My
Lord, what are you doing?” he said again.
Cain
smiled in that mysterious way he seemed to have invented and shook the black
wig off his head to reveal his own natural color. “I’m tired of all this fabric
and lace surrounding me,” he said, looking down at the gown with boredom. He
turned, so his back was facing Riff. “Unstrap me, please.” He waited for Riff’s
deft fingers to untie the straps. And waited. And waited some more. “Riff?” he
said, slightly turning his head.
“My
Lord, what are you asking from me?” Riff said, slowly shaking his head.
“It’s
not a request. It’s a command. And as my servant, I expect for you to obey me.”
The grin remained on his lips as he said that, and transferred to Riff’s lips,
their eyes locking in an unspoken understanding as Riff subtly rolled them
over. And understanding where the tables would be turned, where for once Riff
would be the dominant one and Cain his submissive slave.
“I
had every intention to do so, my Lord,” the older man played along. He lowered
his head and kissed Cain, slow and leisurely, tasting his tongue, savoring it.
He tasted like wine too. Reluctant to let go of that sweet mouth, his lips
traveled further over his jaw line, down to his neck. Straightening, he slowly
took off his shoes, socks and the rest of his clothing, Cain’s eyes on him
making him blush.
“Turn
around,” he whispered. He waited until Cain had done so and knelt beside him.
So many times he had already seen those scars on his back, still he had never
felt more pained than to see them now. His skin looked so fragile, so easy to
bruise, his body looked so slender and small. It was beyond him how someone,
his own father, let’s not forget, refused to treat the boy with the care and
gentleness he deserved, found joy in torturing his own and only son. Riff swore
to himself, he would never, under any circumstances, lower himself to such
bestial levels.
He
leaned forward and softly kissed Cain’s back, paying particular attention to
said scars. He wished kissing them would make them go away, and the memories
with them, that he could lick them off like innocent streaks of ice cream,
applied by the playful fingers of a lover in a fit of silliness, not lashes
applied by the forceful hand of a father that didn’t grant him the air in his
lungs. He would give so much to see that back as just a smooth, blank plane,
like nothing had ever happened.
Cain
shivered under Riff’s gentle kisses. His lips on his back felt good, healing in
a way. Every lash on his back had been a lash in his heart, and those had never
ceased to hurt. Maybe Riff couldn’t kiss away the scars on his back, but he had
the feeling that with every kiss, the scars on his heart disappeared, one by
one.
Satisfied
with the laving of Cain’s abused back, Riff let his tongue go further down in
slow circles, until he had reached the waistband of Cain’s briefs. He’d almost
forgotten he was still wearing those. He peeled them off and slid them down to
rest at the back of Cain’s knees, exposing the soft globes of flesh. The
disarming pink entrance that was exposed called out to him to touch it, toy
with it. Uninhibited, he allowed his mouth to be drawn closer and favor his
tongue with a taste of that pure and untouched entrance. The moan he got made
his cock jump up in enthusiasm. Finding himself rapidly growing addicted to the
wonderful sounds Cain could make, he eagerly continued. He pushed the spherical
cheeks apart with both hands and let his tongue follow the trail of Cain’s
crevice, all the way from bottom to top, eliciting more of those magnificent
moans. When he was at the top, he massaged the tail thr through the flesh,
while his right hand snaked around Cain’s hip to fondle his cock.
Cain’s
mind was lost in its own little world of pleasure and ecstasy, the tongspoispoiling him from behind and the deft hand manipulating his cock driving him
wild with desire. He felt that hot tongue massaging his tailbone going back
down, searching for his entrance and quickly finding it. Soon, he found himself
truly becoming a slave. A slave to his body and his raging hormones.
“Oh,
Riff! More! Deeper! Uggnn!” he cried, clawing his nails in the grass beneath
him.
Riff
complied by pushing his tongue past the ring of muscles, sliding it in and out,
again and again, as deep as he could. His hand was still stroking Cain’s cock
in time with the movements of his tongue, until he could feel Cain’s balls
ractracting and knew he was about to come. His screams told him the same thing.
They were uncontrolled and raw. He pulled back and took a few moments to admire
the panting and sweating young man, positioned on hands and knees.
Cain
panted with the sensations running through him and felt relieved when Riff
stopped, yet he was left extremely unfulfilled. He looked over his shoulder to
where his servant was sitting in the grass. “What are you waiting for? Get to
it, Riff,” he ordered.
Riff
softly shook his head. “No, not like this,” he said. He crawled closer to Cain,
not at all aware of the eroticism he emanated with the catlike movement.
Gliding his hands along Cain’s flanks, he gently coaxed hi tur turn around
again.
“Riff?”
Cain queried, the tinge of haughtiness still present in voicvoice.
“I
want to see your face, my Lord. I want to see it twisted in pleasure.”
Cain
smiled and lifted his feet for Riff to pull off his briefs completely. Then he
spread his legs, opening himself up to his sweet and beautiful servant. “Make
love to me, Riff,” he whispered.
Riff
looked dubiously from his ample cock to the tiny hole it was supposed to fit in
to and then back to his cock. “But my Lord, I’m afraid… I… I don’t want to hurt
you,” he stammered worriedly.
Chuckling,
Cain lowered his eyes. “Riff, I have suffered through hundreds of lashes when I
was a child. I think I’ll be able to handle this.” He spread his legs wider and
smiled. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Riff.”>
The
concern in Riff’s eyes softened at the obvious love and trust he was showing
him. It was a seed that had been planted ever since that first day, and now it
had grown into to something unbreakable. He could still vividly remember the
moment when Cain’s father had tried to deliver him a stroke with that bull
whip, and how Cain had jumped in between them, receiving the blow square in his
face. “Don’t hit my butler,” he had said then. He would never forget that.
With
the precum gathered at the tip, he tried to lubricate his cock as best as he
could. That out of the way, he sat between Cain’s legs and posned ned his cock
against the quivering gateway to paradise, rubbing it up and down a few times
and delighting he she shudders of pleasure it caused in his master. Then he
leaned forward and kissed Cain, tickling his palate for distraction. He still
noted the tensing of his body as he slowly pushed his thick penis inside,
swallowing the moan and adding a whimper of his own at the tight heat that
gradually surrounded him. The need for oxygen made them break apart.
“My
Lord… Oh… You’re so… so tight. God, this is incredible,” he panted.
Cain
bit his lip as Riff slowly pushed further in. For a moment, he could feel
nothing but pain, the pulsating of his burning blood around Riff’s large cock
as he was stretched to such limits. Pleasure soon replaced that pain though as
he got used to the feeling, even if it was only for the knowledge that he
finally had Riff making love to him.
Riff
marveled at how soft Cain’s skin was. He’d always been told that the skin of a
man had the texture of rough leather, and the skin of a woman had a more downy
texture. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he had a woman lying under
him. So frail and delicate he looked, he was afraid to move, lest he should break
him.
Having
adjusted enough, Cain looked up to his servant. “Riff, would you do something
already? I’m not a doll, you know.” He smiled.
“You
sure look like one,” Riff said softly.
Again
that “I’m moved, but I’ll never admit it” grin. “Then you’d better start
moving. This doll needs to be played with. And don’t go to easy on me. I won’t
break.”
Riff
smiled and slightly shook his head as if he could read his thoughts. He drew
back out almost completely, then, let his hips surge forward with a vehement
thrust. The scream that tore from Cain’s throat probably could be heard up at
the castle itself, as he’d located the man’s prostate with that first push.
From that moment, he made it his purpose to hit that magical spot as often as
he could, loving the cries it caused to his sweet master.
Cain’s
entire existence was reduced to the man on top of him, or more precisely his
cock that hit his prostate with magnificent accuracy. He bucked his hips up to
meet the incessant pounding of Riff. He squeezed his eyes shut, his eyelashes
becoming moist with happy tears. He arched his back, raked his nails along
Riff’s muscular back.
Suddenly
he screamed as long and slender fingers curled around his manhood and stroked
in time with the savage dance of their hips. Managing to crack his eyes open,
he looked up at Riff’s face and felt the burning down in his gut intensify at
the pleasure he saw there. He wrapped his legs around Riff and pushed his heels
in his butt, urging him to go faster still.
“Riff!
Oh… ha-harder! Yes! Yes, that’s it!” Cain shouted.
Cain’s
cries of rapture had an erotising effect on Riff. For so long he had longed to
hear them. Up till now it had only been in a dream where he helped Cain taking
a bath, washed his hair, soaped his back; the unknowing young man in the water
unable to see the desire in his eyes. Deciding he didn’t want to keep his
feelings to himself any longer, he then moved his hand to the front, slid the
slippery soap over his nipples, and oh! accidentally dropped the soap in the
water. Hunting after it, his hand dove under the water surface, and instead
found… something far more interesting. Cain’s moans would tell him so. He would
love his hand down there. He would willingly part his legs for Riff to pleasure
him, screaming out his name as he came.
More
than once he had woken up in the middle of the night, bathed in sweat,
wriggling, feeling tension in his boherehere there shouldn’t have been any. He
wasn’t entirely sure around what age it had started. It must’ve been somewhere
around Cain’s 17th birthday, where the puppy fat in his face started to
dissolve and he came in that passing zone from puberty to adulthood. At first
it had been eating him alive, the guilt tearing at his heart to have such
thoughts about his young master. As much as he tried to block them, whenever he
closed his eyes at night, he saw Cain naked, bent over his desk, or lying on
his bed with his wrists tied to the headboard with the sheets. They were
persistent, those visions, and at length he simply didn’t want to fight them
anymore.
Screams
filtered through his mind, reminding him that this was no dream. Hands squeezed
his arms hard enough to bruise, legs were still tightly wrapped around his
waist. He looked down. The back of Cain’s head shoved repeatedly over the grass
with the force of his thrusts. His shoulders shook, his entire body did.
“Yes!
Oh, Riff! Oh, God, yes! Almost! Coming… I’m co… Ooh!”
Feeling
Cain’s muscles tensing, Riff buried his face between Cain’s head and shoulder,
licking the earlobe he found there, his breath hot on Cain’s skin. The channel
that held his cock trapped started clenching, the voice that greeted his ears
took on a high-pitched tone. A few more powerful strokes with his hands was all
it took to jolt them both into orgasm.
“Riff!
Oh! I’m coming! Ah! Aah!”
“Ugh!
Ugh! Nnhh… C-Cain!!”
Riff’s
arms finally gave out. He collapsed on top of Cain, utterly exhausted, his
lungs desperate for oxygen. He vaguely felt Cain’s legs slipping from arounim aim and dropping to the grass with a soft thud.
Cain
let his head fall back and winced slightly when Riff pulled out. “You used my
name,” Cain breathed, smiling.
“Heat
of the moment,” Riff panted, snuggling close to his master. “You have to
understand, my Lord, that it’s very hard for me to call you by your first name.
It’s not so much anymore because I know that’s what’s expected from me, but it
has become a habit.”
“I
do understand, Riff. No doubt it has been a part of your education to respect
other people and a part of your training to use the proper etiquette when
you’re at work. But now you’re not at work,” Cain said with a swift kiss to
Riff’s nose.
“Oh,
I’m always at work.”
Cain
frowned.
“But
I’m loving every moment of it.”
They
both laughed and cuddled together.
“I
always thought you liked girls,” Riff said softly, playing with one of Cain’s
dark brown locks. He wanted to tell him how beautiful his eyes were. He didn’t.
He knew Cain hated his eyes, they reminded him of how he had been conceived.
“Keeping
up appearances, you know,” Cain grinned, winking.
They
enjoyed the moment together, but knew they had to hurry. They had already taken
too much time. Someone could pass by and see them. Justine, who was in love
with Cain; Dark, who despised Cain; Dr. Allan, who they suspected to be a
fraud; or worst of all, Merryweather, tooting around for her
"Oniisaaan!", [1] and finding a very naughty oniisan.
Riff
was the first one to stir awake from their blissful aftermath. “We should go
back now,” he said, sitting up and reaching for his clothes. “Dr. Allan will be
looking for you to tell you the ‘news’.” He snickered and started dressing.
“Yes,
you’re right,” Cain smiled. He looked around for his own clothes, his eyes
falling on the satin and lace dress shoved somewhere between the bushes. “Oh
no,” he groaned.
“What?”
Riff followed Cain’s eyes and chuckled. “I guess it’s back to the dress for
you, my Lord.” He picked it up, rubbing the grass off, and held it up. “Or
should I say “My Lady”?”
“Shut
up, Riff. It’s not funny,” Cain said, gruffly snatching the heavy garment from
Riff’s hands and slipping into it.
“Wait,
my Lord. Let me wipe that away for you first.”
Cain
looked up in confusion, not understanding what Riff was talking about. He
watched him take a hanky out of his pocket and wipe away the cooled semen from his stomach and chest. “Thank you,
Riff,” he said. Proceeding with sticking his arms through the sleeves, he
turned around for Riff to strap him up. As he felt him tugging at the straps,
his eyes softened and a small smile reappeared on his lips. “Riff,” he said.
“What
is it, my Lord?”
“I
love you. Thank you for having made love to me.”
Riff
smiled. “The pleasure was all mine.” The straps he was tying slipped out of his
hands as Cain turned around. “My Lord, I’m not finished yet.” A brightly
smiling face turned his way and two arms slid around his neck.
“We
have proven my father wrong. He told me I would never find love. But I did,”
Cain said.
Riff
traced a gentle finger along Cain’s cheek and returned the smile. “Yes, you
did.”
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