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Chapter Text

Morticia descended the steps in her terribly dark and cobwebbed home. A window, cracked at the top right corner, cascaded along the steps. Her subtle and smooth stride paced her at a crawl down the steps. Her head was held high, hands placed over one another resting on her abdomen.

The quiet taps of rain against the windows covered the sound of her steps as she narrowed the end of the long winding staircase. A shadow danced across her face as clouds approached her manner. The kids were long gone on an already month-long manhunt for their missing uncle, and mother hadn’t been home in months. She often hibernates in the deep caves through the summer, keeps her young.

She pauses at the door, lowering the handle with grace, opening the large entry-way doors. A young man is positioned, attempting to knock on the now opened door, hiding his hand, running it through his mid-length brown hair. In his other hand a bouquet of drenched rose stems and herbs. The smell of lavender creeps in the doorway as he smiles, his hair growing messier as his fingers tangle through it.

Morticia smiles, “You shouldn’t have”, extending her arms to receive the flowers.

He places them in her arms, clumsily placing his hands in his pockets, hair dripping against his shoulders. “You look other-wordly today”.

She blinks slowly, taking in the compliment, and leaning in to smell the stems in her hands. As she enjoys the scent she leans into the doorway, only a bit. She stops around where his neck would be, if inside, “How sweet you are to wear such an awful cologne, herbal incense” She tilts her head as if to reprimand him for the cleansing smell.

She takes a small step back into the foyer, looking out the same cracked window as lightning races through the clouds.

He reaches out to grab her hand, but she lends her hand cold and dissatisfied. “Might I c-”

“You’d like to come in?” she cuts him off, a firm tone as he begins to kiss the back of her hand.

“How else would I give you thanks for having me?”

“Hmm” she thinks, her eyes not gracing his direction. “There’s only two people who need permission to enter a home” She side-eyes him, up and down, giving extra time to his drenched button up shirt, slightly open, for a moment before retracting her hand. “-how am I to know which of the two you are”.

She steps to turn away from him, speaking over her shoulder. “I don’t tolerate the likes of ill mannered guests, especially those of the fanged persuasion.”

He gulps, adjusting his shirt’s collar, smiling anxiously. “I wouldn't say I’m ill-behaved, Morticia.” She raises an eyebrow, still facing away.

He dares not step in the home, especially not while dripping on her front porch. The rain wasn’t letting up, and her awning only protected him so much.

The back of his neck burned with a mixture of desire and embarrassment, a healthy ratio of the two. “Morticia, ple-” He stopped himself, covering his mouth and looking away.

“Would you please let me in.” He’s now become very aware of the cold shirts that's clinged to his muscled chest.

“I’m not so sure”

“Please Morticia” His knees begin to shift, his hands anxiously pick at his pockets.

She’s silent for a moment, looking now not even over her shoulder, completely indifferent to him.

“Morticia” He coos, his voice more desperate now.

“Please” his voice is breathy and needy.

Needy and begging, the way every man she welcomes is supposed to act at her doorstep.

She turns her head over her shoulder, noting how well he’s already whined for her. “Come now, you’re terribly soaked already”.

He nods quickly, straightening himself to walk through the doorway, he approaches her from behind, hands hovering around her hips. She leans into his touch and he wraps his arms around her, tracing along the black laced fabric against her arms. He leans in to kiss her shoulder.

“Must you make me wait so painfully?”

“Darling, you’re soaked.” She responds flatly, beginning to walk towards the stairs as he unwraps himself and follows behind.

He’s a step or two behind her, trailing his eyes along her body as she sways towards the steps. She stops at the bottom, waiting as he rounds in front of her, looking up to her eyes and taking her hand. He stays just one step below her as he guides her up and to the right of the large carpeted stairs.

His eyes follow her jet black hair, as it frames her side profile, illuminated by the moonlight. Her eyes are sharp, and piercing. Her neck framing her collarbones, just out of sight for him. He looks over the railing and sees another strike outside, flashing white against her pale skin. She smiles “Such an awful evening for you to come by”.

He kisses her hand, “a terrible evening”. They approach the top of the steps, she turns to face him, noting the way his chest glistens.

“Absolutely horrid” She leans down to his level, lips inches from his.

He leans in closer “Harrowing” tilting his head at an angle.

“Hidieous” She smiles only an inch from his lips.

He closes his eyes and leans to close the gap, only she’d turned to continue down the hallway. His hair has flopped over, wet and messy, strands dancing across his eyes. He hasten his walk to follow only a step behind at a diagonal to her.

He clears his throat, “Where are we heading?”.

“To get you cleaned up dear, Murk will hang me for the trail of water you’re leaving behind.” She places a finger under his jaw, smiling at his pleased face.

Soon they arrive at her bedroom, she waits for him to open the door, nodding in thanks as she passes by, her hips swaying a bit more than they normally do. “Wait here” she says, making her way over to a cabinet along the wall. She pulls out a large amber vase and walks with it to a table by the entryway.

While she organizes the dried herbs in the vase, he takes a moment to gaze around her room, many candles line the walls, and small lamps all over. Large curtains drape over each window, only a sliver of the outer storm is visible. Her bed was adorned in many extravagant pillows. The frame dark, with metal accents along the base.

She stepped closer to him, he pulled the door shut behind him. She was nearly 6 inches taller than him, and it was showing.

Another step closer, she leaned in to tug at his button up shirt. He backs slowly into the door, her gaze sharp at his neck. He smiled, canines showing for a moment as she began undoing the buttons. One at a time her slender fingers with red polish slipped buttons from their hold.

His breath steadied, heavier than it had been but manageable, his face on the other hand, felt hot all over. She began to talk, not lifting her eyes from the buttons, “I’ll have your clothes dried for you, if you’d like”.
He swallows, “Yes, that” his breath hitches as he feels her hand press against cool skin “that sounds nice”.

Her hand slides to lightly hold his jaw, “Thank you,you really don’t have to”.

“Your my guest, drying your clothes is the least I’d do” her fingers loosen on his jaw, brushing over his neck and trailing down to untuck his pants.

His skin feels like hot wax is dripping slowly on every inch of him, he moves his hands to where hers are and finishes taking off his shirt. She takes this moment to walk off into her nearby closet, sifting through drawers, “Would you draw a bath, dear?” she shouts from a room away.

He obliges, heading into a room to the left, the bathroom was grand. The walls were lined in hand-cut tile, and the bathtub larger than any he’d seen.

He lights a few candles, guiding his way to the bath tube with a large window at the ceiling of the room casting light down on the ceramic. He reaches for the nozzle, twisting until hot water begins to flow out. He sits at the edge beginning to take his belt off and lays it on the counter. As he looks in the mirror tussling his hair, a figure approaches from behind. He turns to face her as she brings a set of towels and dry clothes.

“I imagine they’re your-” She takes a long look up and down his body “size”. She moves to set the dry clothes down.

“May I?” she asks, hands nearing his pants. He nods softly, and she unzips his pants, lowering them as far as she can keeping her eyes on his. He reaches to take off his shoes and takes his pants fully off, walking past her to test the water, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He turns the water off and begins to slide his boxers off, dipping himself in the expansive tub.

He notices some movement and looks to his right. Morticia stands in the doorway, lamps from her bedroom shine behind her as he watches the fabric of her silhouette fall off her shoulders.

Morticia steps out of her dress getting closer but still out of view.

“Will you join me?” He asks, shifting to ignore the sensitivity between his legs.

“My heart bleeds to” She steps closer, sliding her shoes off of her feet, her long legs coming closer in view.

The light of a conveniently placed candle hides her body in the shadows as she approaches even closer. Soon she sits at the far end of the tub. He can see her now, the way her face shines in the light, her hands gliding through the heat of the fresh bath. She pulls her fingers to her lips “Are you sure its not too hot dear, wouldn’t want to cook you alive, would we”

“You should join me and we’ll find out” He looks down to her chest, pale skin with a full hips and a soft chest. She smiles, he keeps following down her torso and lands on her lingerie, black lace and garter belts linked to a sleek pair of stockings. They fit her perfectly, like she wears them everyday.

She stands up from the edge of the tub, turning to face away from him, black hair laying over her right shoulder. She begins to unclip her belts and slide her stockings down, making sure to take her time and make sure he has no choice but to watch.

“You’re perfect” He says, hands tracing along the edge of the tub, firmness growing between his legs.

“Mm?” she hums, looping her fingers under the edges of her underwear, pulling the lace off agonizingly slow.

“Your torture, mon chérie” She smiles for a moment, holding up her underwear to the side before dropping it.

She steps over the edge and into the tube across from him. He notices the small patch of dark hair that trails up from her and the way her breasts bounce for a moment as she sits down.

She reaches for a small t-pot shaped cup on the shelf closest to her, pouring some in as bubbles rapidly grow like a potion of sorts.

Her legs brush smooth against his rough hairy legs. She begins to rub the soap along her collar bones and arms, often closing her eyes, like she’s in her own world. He begins to copy her, washing in a similar way after she does.

They stay silent for a while, hands occasionally roaming on one another's legs.

For a moment he deviates, hands washes along his chest, and stomach, and lowering down between his legs to his inner thighs. He’s careful to avoid the throbbing growth that’s demanding attention.

Only at this moment he feels he’s hiding his secret well, she’s grown hungrier. Hungry to hear, to taste, to feel him.

She moves a hang in front of her, right in his light of sight, the other plunges below the water surface beginning to trace large circles far from her sensitivity. She extends an index finger in the air, motioning for him to come closer. Which he notices with open eyes. He nods, shifting to his knees, moving close between her legs. She places a hand on his chest, stopping him at the exact distance she wants him.

“You’ll know excruciating torture when you’re with me”.

She traces a hand over his chest feeling the hair between his pecks and muscles lower on his abdomen. Her hand below the water circles closer and closer.

“It seems you’ve already fought many beasts” She said tracing the jagged scars below his pecks, “I wonder how you fair with this one”.

He holds her hand over a scar, his other hand reaching to hold her cheek. “I’d love to find out”.

She reaches to tangle a hand in his hair, gripping and pulling him in for a deep kiss, hungry, starved kiss.

He kisses back with the passion of an animal chased and pinned deep in the forest. Biting at her lips leaving a sharp sting.

She lets out a soft moan only making him more desperate, his hands begin to roam beginning gentle on her chest, light passes over her nipples. Circling with gentle rhythm and building to soft squeezes, lifting small noises from her throat.

She pulls his hair leading him away from her lips and back onto his knees, his chest heaving with each breath, her lips a bit swollen and pink. His hands raise to touch her and she raises an eyebrow, his palms returning to his knees. She looks down at his hands and then between his legs, returning a look into his eyes and releasing her grip.

“Not ill-mannered? Are we”.

He shakes his head side to side. Lowering his gaze to her chest.

She grabs one of his wrists and drags it between her legs, he holds his hand there waiting for her want. She presses into his hand grinding against it for a moment before missing his touch dearly and pulling his head in to kiss her chest. He kisses hopelessly, feeling the soft flesh against his teeth, licking and sucking where she applies more pressure. One hand braces him against the tub while the other begins to circle her clit. She hums softly, “pure evil” she moans as he traces her entrance. He smiles against her skin. He traces soft circles and stripes listening for each sound and movement.

She feels starved, like he’s so far away, like there’s so much more she wants to feel of him.

She pulls him back for a moment, his mouth slightly open, his body hunched over hers, eyes doe-ish begging to continue. Her hand stretches over his exposed neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He worried that at any moment he’d lose control, and wouldn’t be able to stop. That what was held inside by rusted screws would free itself and devour every inch of her.

She holds him firmly, a slight squeeze in her fingers, pulling him as close as she can.

His hands begin to roam more clasping over her waist. He pulls her in closer, the warmth of his large hands bringing a shiver down her spine. Soon their hips align, his testosterone grown dick brushing against her. She moans into the kiss, rotating her hips to feel him more. He breaks the kiss for a moment, reveling in the pressure against his neck and friction between his legs. A small groan escapes his lips, deep and broken.

She looks into his eyes, trapping him in her gaze for a moment, enjoying the delicious sounds and heaves in his chest. He begins to grind down against her. He feels his dick slide across her most sensitive, with pleasure from the lips he slides through.

Needy, and without perfect rhythm he grinds desperately. The nerves at his tip tingle in pleasure. His hands becoming numb, she pulls his head in gently to rest on her shoulder as he grinds against her.

Every hip rotation sends a wave of sensations through her stomach and chest. Like it echoes to the tips of her fingers. The taps of rain at the window and water splashes drown out the moans that escape her tongue. He began to kiss along her shoulder, hopeless to feel her skin more. Inching closer and closer to her neck. He began to grind down with more purpose, sensing something come over his body. A slush of heat from such a dark and cold woman.

He opens his mouth, a groan escapes, hissed through his barred teeth. His rhythm loses pace, hips sloppier with each grind. His teeth align themselves with her neck, his breath against her skin. He prepares to bite down, his teeth sharp and waiting, her blood only beneath her skin.

She stretches her neck back resting against the luxurious tub railing, feeling him grind against her, wishing to be full of him. A lone ray of light shining on her neck, as if to offer it to him.

He takes the devilish offering, like a plate of pomegranates and honey for his divine taste. His teeth sink into her neck, a tear into her skin that heats her flesh. His muscles twitch, pleasure melting through his skin, and his mind goes white.

She lets out moans breath catching in each thrust, she stares into the candle flame in her sight, enjoying every stroke and motion as he comes undone on top of her.

Soon his hips slow to a stop, his moans, once muted by flesh, turned to pants against her skin.

He pulls his teeth from her and admires the marks along her skin, grazing on her ecstasy, looking along her lengthy collar bones and up to her eyes that are looking directly to him. “You are, horrifying-” He leans in to kiss her lips gently. “Dreadful” She mutters between starved kisses, “Sickening”, He begins to kiss along her jaw and neck, “repulsive” her nails scratch along his back as he licks along her bitten neck. He pauses for a moment, “rotten,” he gently scrapes her neck with his teeth “Please don’t stop”

He returns to her eyeline, nodding through baited breath. “I wouldn’t dream to” He kisses her down the center of her chest, “not until you’ve devoured me whole”. He continues to kiss downward, soon reaching the water’s surface.

Her expression is cold and demanding as he kisses her skin beneath the water, returning to the surface ever so often. Every step he takes, slowly teasing her to her limit, small bites at her thighs, she sighs and pushes his hair from his face.

He reaches her, a single tongue press against her and she grips into his hair. He returns to the surface and she gazes down at him, desire in her eyes. She shakes her head side to side in a small motion before pressing him beneath the water.

He tastes her as if he hadn’t eaten for weeks, consuming every curve and texture, sucking everything that gives him reaction. His remaining breath nearing, he continues, the pressure in his chest growing as he follows the grip in his hair.

He’s only allowed to the surface as her hips roll forward, keeping his tongue between her legs until she’s finished the whole way through. He emerges with a gasp for air, throbbing pleasure between his own legs as he watches through blurred vision her exhausted posture, limbs nearly limp besides the grip held tight in his hair, holding all of his attention.

His breaths stay heavy as she moves her grip once more to his jaw, praising his work.

“Your tongue is from hell, darling.” he leans into her touch kissing into her hand, still breathing heavy.

“The water will get cold soon, we should finish up” She turns his head to face her, he hums in agreeance.

***

She wraps a towel around herself, tucking the black and red embroidered end into itself, approaching him as he wraps a towel around his waist. She grabs a smaller towel and begins to run it over his hair, drying behind his ears and his neck. He leans into each touch, but not too much where she’d threaten to take it away. He knows how she needs-he knows the desperation in his breath or movements only feed her sadistic nature. A nature so keen on keeping him at the very edge of so many sensations. Her skin is already cool to the touch, like it's been on ice for hours already.

After moments of drying and tracing soft clean skin, she steps over to the counter. She picks up a pair of spiderweb-laced underwear, with soft swirled edges. Dropping her towel to the floor she bends to slip her ankles through the holes. She makes sure to slowly stand straight, knowing his gaze was following her every move. “Would you help me?” as she looks over her shoulder, pulling another fabric into her hands.

He obliges, helping her arms through each sleeve and tying the garment in front of her.

“Your hands are quite skillful with a knot” she lets out a sigh as he tightens the bow.

He kisses her shoulder tenderly “I’d love to show you more”.

“Ah but dinner first” she smiles turning to him.

Chapter Text

Morticia rests against the headboard, hands tangled in the brunette’s hair beneath her. He lays in her lap, in well used boxers, hands resting over his stomach. She twirls his curls in her fingers brushing hair from his face as he breaths slow, intentional breaths, grounded to her touch and the smell of the room.

“You did fantastic, “ she trails off, tracing the soft hair along his jaw “I was terrified”. He smiles as her fingers trace across his lips.

Morticia adjusts her posture, long straight black hair shifted to her right shoulder exposing the dozens of bites along her neck. Sets of 2 parallel holes trail from her jaw to the edge of her shoulder, visible only through the mess of her draped rope. Her breasts peak between the untied fabric.

He lifts an arm, opening his eyes slowly, and rubs along her arm. “You were ravishing” She massages into his cheeks and temples.

“Mm” she hums following the curves of his profile, to the very tip of his nose.

He begins to sit up and she helps him, steadying his shake. “Are you still light headed?”, she rubs his shoulders as he scoots back to lean against her.

“Only a bit.” He responds by closing his eyes and focusing on the slender fingers pressing into his shoulders. His hand roams to her legs, tracing small pentagrams on her thigh, feeling the risen black and red wax dried on her skin. “How do you feel?”

“Oh terrible, darling” Her hands roam as well, only to his chest, tracing along the rope indents. “Terrible” she repeats, a sinister grin inside her black heart as he twitches to the touch.

“I wasn’t too rough?” He asks, his hand sits on her thigh, inches from her. His heart drops for the moment she sighs. Turning to look at her.

“Unfortunately.” She coos, hands approaching the hem of his boxers. “Could I torture you for one more?” She begs, fingertips just under his waist band.

“Please” He moans out, already melting to her touch, excitedly pulling away his boxers. He’s not even sure he could handle the overstimulation but he can’t stop wanting to feel her.

She helps him relax against her, his head pressed against her soft chest. She takes a bottle near her, helping herself to a wonderfully scented lotion oil. She massages along his arms and chest, making sure to press the tension out of his neck. She pauses for a moment a soft pressure against his neck that makes him look up and into her smiling eyes.

“You’re so evil for me,” her hands trail to rub through rope marks on his wrists “It makes me feel like a wild animal” her hands rub over his torso and near the happy trail bloomed from between his legs. “Your wild animal” she leans to say into his ear.

Slowly she massages small jerking motions around his dick, her fingers grazing over his tip every few few strokes, smiling at his hips twitches. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to again” He breathes out, burying himself into her chest.

She continues stroking his cock, “Oh I know you can, you’re already taking it so well” she feels his hand grip into her thigh.

“Is it too much or has it started feeling good”

“Too good!” he blurts out overwhelmed by her touch, getting closer and closer to a peak, her voice driving him crazy.

“Hmm it seems like you're handling it well enough” She slows her strokes, circling his tip lightly making him moan. “Do I need to stop?” She asks, her touch slowing to a crawl, lighter than it’d been all night.

He shakes his head, pressing his hips forward to feel her hand causing him to let out a small groan. She responded, speeding her pace, resting her head on top of his.

He couldn’t hold on for long, the stimulation expanding through his abdomen. “I’m so close” He said through broken words.

“I want to see it” She replies, speeding her pace again.

The firmness in her hand grew and hips rutting against her began to shake. He let out a few more stifled moans, coming in her hand. After finishing her stroke slowed but didn’t stop. His hips bucked from the intense feeling. The torture didn’t last too long though, he’d already had enough for the night, it was hard to ignore the throbbing it brough between her legs. After the last moment of fast speed playing with his tip and his whimpering moans escaping she pulled her hand from him. He breathed heavily, his chest still raising and lowering in a staggered manner.

She raised her hand to her lips, licking her fingers.

He sighed, collecting his breath in a deep inhale and long exhale, watching the deathly beauty above him, clean her fingers of his excitation.

She finishes the last finger, looking down at his fatigued face. “Lets get you cleaned up, darling” Morticia moves from the bed laying him down amidst the large extravagant pillows. Stepping over the ropes and toys along the floor next to a somewhat concentrated pile of discarded clothing.

She enters the bathrooms reaching for a clean washcloth, taking the time to clean herself and peel the wax from her legs. She returns to the bedroom with several rags and lotion, first draping a hot rag over his crotch. Taking the time to finish her massage form earlier and kiss along any bruise or hickey left. With soft touches she wipes any leftover messes from his skin, being sure to use a firm palm against his thigh or arm to make sure he feels her warmth and presence.

After several minutes his breath slows and he brings himself to a sitting up position, taking time to slip on the soft boxers she has brought for him. He helps her undress and slips a night gown over her head, small kisses between steps.

He invites her into the bed, sliding under the top-most comforter. She joins, his left leg sliding between hers, lying in one another's embrace.

“I ache for you, Morticia” he presses his head to her torso, listening to her heart beat.

“I live to torture you, dear” she runs her hands through his hair, holding him close. “It’s hard when you’re a well mannered guest, biting me when I want you to and never when I don’t”. His arms wrap around her waist and she continues “You always listen so well for me”.

“You treat me so well, too, you deserve my obedience” he nuzzles his head in closer “You earn as the monster you are”

“You’re too kind” She responds, pausing for a moment “maybe I haven’t been cruel enough”.

“Maybe I haven’t been bloodthirsty enough. “ he sighs, “I’ll have to show you sometime” he becomes aware of his sharp canines pressing against his cheek.

She feels chill down her spine, “Oh you’d be merciless” she smiles “That sounds like a horrible idea”.

"I can't wait" She leans her head over his, falling asleep to the rain barreling in closer.