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The flickering orange flames dance within the hearth, casting a warm glow across the grand hall of the old castle. Shadows flutter along the stone walls, shifting like whispers of long-forgotten secrets. Dust motes are swirling lazily in the air, illuminated by the ethereal light.
Outside, the wind howls, a mournful wail that rattles the ancient windows and sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You glance up, your eyes wandering across the room, taking in the high vaulted ceilings adorned with cobwebs and the relics of a forgotten time. Tattered tapestries are hanging on the walls, their colors dulled by years of neglect, whispering stories of battles fought in the past.
The scent of aged wood and burnt cedar wraps around you, comforting and familiar. You have spent many months, if not a year, here at this castle with your lover, Count Orlok. As you first met him you had been intimidated, even scared. He had been haunting your village, killing one villager after the other every other night. One night you had woken up to the sound of someone in your home, and there he stood, Orlok, looming over you. It was terrifying, and you thought you were going to die. But he had just stared at you silently before leaving.
This was your first meeting, and he kept coming back to see you whenever he came to your village. With every night you spent together the relationship between the two of you bloomed, and eventually he had offered to take you to his castle. You had accepted without a second thought, ready to be whisked away by your lovely Count.
And since then you hadn‘t left.
Ever since arriving at the castle you have been happier than ever before. Orlok could be gentle and loving, as well as rough and domineering. All sides of him fascinate you to no end, and he had always given you what you need.
You sink deeper into the plush embrace of your armchair, its velvet fabric soft against your skin, and turn another page of the well-loved book resting in your lap. The story unfolds before you, a gentle journey through realms of romance and adventure, but your mind often wanders. You find yourself glancing up from the pages once more, drawn to the Count’s heavy mente coat draped over the back of his chair. It looms there, rich and dark like the mysteries it holds. The fabric shimmers slightly in the firelight, teasing you with the wealth of its history.
Orlok has left the room about an hour ago, disappearing into his study to take care of something. You are not sure what as he didn‘t tell you.
With a soft sigh you close the book, letting it fall into your lap, the warmth of the fire and the allure of the coat beckoning you closer. You stand, a sudden thrill rushing through your veins as you approached Orlok‘s empty chair.
The coat is large as it is even able to allow Orlok to hide away in it, and you can only imagine how heavy it must be, the idea both daunting and inviting. You gently brush your hand across the fabric, feeling the sheep skin, the intricate floral design stitched into it, and the wonderfully soft fur that‘s adorning the collar and it‘s inside. His mente coat has always fascinated you with how noble it looks.
You hesitate for a moment, glancing toward the heavy oak door that leads into the hallway.
Would Orlok mind?
The thought of him crosses your mind, his eyes like deep, endless pools of night. His sickly, greyish skin stretching tautly across his features, decay eating away at him in some spots. You can almost feel the cool brush of his fingers against your skin. The way his voice, smooth as silk and yet deep like the darkest ocean, wraps around you like a warm embrace. You had shared so many moments in this castle, each one layered with whispers or pleasured moans, but the mystery of the Count keeps you perpetually enchanted.
You shrug off the hesitation, lifting the heavy piece of clothing from the chair to drape it around your shoulders. Just like you always see him do it you don‘t put your arms into the long sleeves.
You remember asking him one night why the sleeves are so long and why he never put his arms through them. He had explained that the coat is a presentational garment – a way of showcasing wealth or status. The length of the sleeves shows someone‘s status. The longer they are the higher up they are. It was quite interesting to learn.
The coat is heavy on your shoulders just as you expected. It envelops you, heavy yet comforting, like a cocoon of warmth. You can’t help but smile as you turned to face the fire, admiring the way the fabric drapes around you.
“This is much nicer than I imagined.” you murmur to yourself, taking a step back, reveling in the plushness of the garment.
“You wear it well.” His voice, deep and ragged, breaks the quiet reverie, sending a shiver of delight up your spine. You turn, heart racing, to see the Count standing in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light flickering behind him. The shadows cling to him like a cloak, accentuating the sharp angles of his face and the fading color of his greying, dark hair.
You feel a warmth bloom in your cheeks, the thrill of being caught wrapping around you like the coat itself.
“I hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t resist.” you reply shyly, a playful lilt in your voice. You take a step towards him, the fire crackling softly in the background. “It’s so warm.” you continue, your fingers brushing against the collar, the fabric soft against your skin. “It feels like you. Smells like you...”
His gaze softens, and for a moment, the shadows retreat slightly, a hint of sincerity breaking through his usual enigmatic demeanor. “The coat has been with me for centuries, a comfort through the ages. To see it on you… it brings me joy.” The sincerity in his voice sends a thrill through you, and a smile spreads across your lips. He walks over to you, stopping right in front of you. He towers over you as he always does.
His fingers brush against the fabric of his coat, tracing the outline of your body through the thick sheep skin, sending a shiver through you. You can feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with meaning, as if he’s searching for something deep within you, something only he can see. You can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with the warmth of affection.
“It is quite heavy.” you speak up again, your heart racing under his attention. “It is very pleasant, like a warm embrace in the cold night.” He chuckles at your words, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. The fire’s light illuminates his face perfectly, a light smirk playing on his lips.
“And here I thought you preferred my embrace over my coat.”
You laugh softly, the sound echoing in the grand hall. “Well, both are lovely, but this coat has a certain… gravitas.”
He chuckles again, rich and low, like the rumble of distant thunder. “I worry you might prefer my coat over my embrace. Maybe should I remind you of how much better you would feel in my arms.” As he speaks his hand moves up to cup your cheek, his skin cold against yours, but it is a familiar sensation now. You lean slightly into his touch, yearning for more.
“Please do, my Lord.” you whisper in a breath.
He closes the distance between you then, leaning in and capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. A soft and satisfied hum escapes you, lips moving in rhythm with his. Ever since your first kiss you long for the hunger in the way he kisses you. The way he keeps you close against his body as if he is afraid to lose you if he lets go and the way his large clawed hands caress you so gently and carefully. He shows you a side noone else has ever seen of him, one that is reserved for you and only you.
As the kiss deepens you melt into him, feeling his firm and slender body against your own. With one hand still cupping your cheek and his other hand snaking around your waist he holds you firmly against himself. Heat rises in your body, responding to his firm grip. Your own hands find his chest, feeling him through the fabric of his dolman robe.
Orlok breaks the kiss, leaning into your neck to pepper your skin with kisses, at least as well as he can with the fur getting in the way. But due to the size of his coat it slips slightly from your shoulders.
With gentle hands he guides you to his chair then. At first you are confused, unsure what he is planning to do. But as he sits down in his chair, legs parted and inviting you to join him you understand, settling down on his strong thigh. You go in for another kiss as his hands explore your body through the fabric of your dress. Your body feels hot underneath, overheated, but you pay it no mind, fully focusing on his touch and his kiss. You focus o the taste of his lips against yours and the sensation of his tongue as it darts out, prompting you to part your lips for him.
One hand of his is settled on your back while the other one is reaching down to tug at the skirt of your dress, pulling it up further and further until he gets access to what’s underneath. His hand slides beneath, caressing your warm, soft skin with his cold and calloused hand. It travels up your thigh slowly, teasingly and you are starting to writhe, silently begging him to touch you where you need it most.
Your legs part a bit wider for him, offering him more access, and finally his fingers find your core.
“So wet and ready for me...” he murmurs into your neck. His fingers slowly run up and down along your slit, collecting your juices. You have stopped wearing underwear a while ago. With how ravenous and hungry he is for you you have found it easier to just ditch the unnecessary garment and therefore offering him easy access. No need to waste time getting undressed. He can just fuck you whenever he pleases, and you are more than eager for him to do so whenever he is in the mood.
He teases you for a bit longer before he finally moves on to your clit, drawing a moan from your lips. Your hips are rolling eagerly against his touch, needy and desperate. As the pace of his hand picks up a bit you can feel the arousal building further in your belly. Your own hand, which has been resting on his chest so far, moves down on his stomach until you firmly palm his crotch, feeling his hardened cock through his pants. He growls at the touch, but manages to stop himself from showing any physical reactions.
He chuckles then, his hand stopping it’s movement as you keep rolling your hips against it. A complaint rises in your throat when he pulls his hand away, looking at him disapprovingly as he so suddenly denies you pleasure.
“If you are so desperate for it you will work for it.” he comments smugly before sucking your glistening juices from his fingers. The gesture sends a shiver of arousal down your spine and straight to your core.
He then gestures you to get up. Knowing it is of no use to complain you follow his instructions. You know if you were to act up he would just fully deny you any pleasure as a punishment.
Standing in front of him, holding up your dress for him you wait for him to guide you.
Hands find your bare hips, at first just feeling you up, sliding behind you find find your buttocks before he guides you onto his thigh again, but this time one leg on each side, successfully making you straddle his leg. Your juices are surely soaking into his pants already.
“Go on, show me how desperate you are to get fucked.” A bit of a blush spreads on your cheeks again in a bit of shame at his words, though you enjoy it. Yes, you are absolutely desperate for his cock, and you love that he knows it.
Again you start rolling your hips, moaning in pleasure as the rough fabric of his pants grinds so pleasurably against your clit.
Your eyes are half lidded, breath coming out in shallow pants as you start to pick up the pace. Orlok’s gaze is fixed on you, watching you intently as you are losing control over yourself so easily. Oh how much he loves knowing how much power he has over you. You are so easily affected by him.
“Such a good girl for me...” he murmurs again, his voice low. While you are moving he reaches up, tugging his coat back into place around your shoulders. He hums in approval at the view you offer him. Then he reaches for your wrist, guiding your hand back to his bulge. Palming him firmly you keep moving as your pleasure starts to rise again. A wet spot has formed on his thigh where you are grinding against him, leaving clear proof of your arousal.
He seems to finally have reached his own limit as he reaches down once more, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. His erection is standing proudly, twitching and pulsing. Your fingers wrap around the hard and thick shaft, starting to pump as you simultaneously continue to grind against his thigh, your moans echoing through the grand hall joined by the occasional groan from Orlok.
Stroking his cock you pause for a moment, brushing your thumb over the sensitive tip to spread the pearl of pre-cum collecting there over his heated skin before continuing. Your hand moves up and down on his length at a steady pace, trying your best to stay focused as your orgasm slowly starts to build.
One of his hands sneaks up your body until he moves past your neckline, feeling the soft skin of your decollete. It doesn’t seem to satisfy him though as he then proceeds to tug down your neckline. The dress is rather tight, but he manages to free you breasts without tearing your dress, exposing your chest to his hungry gaze. He doesn’t waste any time, immediately starting to knead your mounds and teasing your nipples.
“M-My Lord...” you gasp as you approach your orgasm. You don’t have to tell him, he knows. With a growl he speaks up.
“Come for me, my love.” he leans in then, lips wrapping around your nipple. You let out a pleasured gasp, one hand finding the back of his head to hold him close to your chest while the other moves from his cock to his arm, holding on firmly to steady yourself.
The movement of your hips starts to lose rhythm but picks up in speed, desperate for release.
And as you ride his thigh eagerly it doesn’t take long for you to finally topple over the edge.
The knot that had been building in your stomach finally releases as you finally reach your orgasm, your body tensing but still trying desperately to move, riding out your high.
You can feel the fabric of his pants is drenched by your juices now. But he doesn’t mind at all.
Not when you found your release through him.
Finally your body stops moving and you slump against him, trying to catch your breath. His face is buried in your neck now, peppering the skin with kisses and you can also feel his sharp teeth grazing your skin a few times.
Eventually he grows impatient though, placing a teasing bite in the crook of your neck. It doesn’t break skin and you get the message as you, still breathless, straighten again. His hard cock is begging for attention, twitching eagerly, waiting to be touched again.
But instead of reaching for it once more your change your position, straddling his lap fully. Your legs are spread wide for him due to his parted legs.
Carefully you position yourself above his cock, feeling the tip pushing against your entrance. Your breath hitches at the sensation and you can’t resist any longer, slowly lowering yourself onto his erection. Your walls successfully spread around him. You are used to his girth now, used to the way he splits you open when he enters you and you absolutely love the sensation of his intrusion.
Lowering yourself more and more on his cock you don’t stop until he is buried fully inside you, letting out a heavy breath. You can see the bliss on his face, how he enjoys the heat of your walls engulfing him.
It takes a moment for you to adjust to him, and he takes this moment of motionless silence to speak again.
“Ride my cock if you are so desperate for it.” he growls as his hands find your thighs with a firm grip. Biting back a moan at his words you start moving, rolling your hips again. You can feel him inside of you, filling you up so nicely almost like he’s a missing piece of you.
While you are moving he is leaning back comfortably, watching you with a satisfied smirk. His gaze is drinking in your exposed chest, your exposed pussy as you are still holding up your dress with one hand, the other one resting on his chest to keep yourself steady. He doesn’t move, even removing his hands from your thighs to rest his arms on the armrests of his chair.
Like a king on his throne, letting himself be entertained.
His gaze is spurring you on, making you eager to work for his approval, for his pleasure instead of your own. Your pace picks up, his cock sliding in and out of you faster now, but you feel like it isn’t enough to satisfy him. So instead you aim for a rougher approach, lifting your hips and slamming them back down, successfully drawing a groan of pleasure from him.
Seeing this as your cue you continue like this, lifting your hips again only to slam back down again. Another groan and you keep going, repeating these movements again and again. Every time your walls squeeze deliciously around him whenever he is fully burried inside you.
You start rolling your hips again in addition to the movement and you can see his pleasure growing with each second. As your pace again speeds up it looses a bit of it’s roughness, though you keep bouncing on top of him.
And then he can’t take it any longer. His hands move to your hips, firmly holding you in place.
You rest your body against his as he adjusts his position slightly and starts thrusting up into you, drawing moan after moan from you. His movement is rough and fast, merciless as he fucks you and you can’t resist reaching down between your legs, rubbing your clit in addition to his thrusts to add to the pleasure.
Your orgasm is building rapidly now, and you can tell his is too.
His thrusts are getting more sloppy and desperate as he chases his orgasm. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, and he shoves your body forward with each hard thrust.
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on to him desperately as you are getting closer and closer to your release. Neither of you mind his heavy coat as it slides from your shoulders and eventually falls to the floor in a heap. The only thing that matters is how he buries himself inside you repeatedly and how wonderful his body feels against yours.
His hungry growls fill your ears and all you can focus on is HIM. The only thing that matters is HIM.
It doesn’t take much longer for you to find your release, your fingers digging into the fabric of his dolman robe desperately to hold on as you cum around his cock. His movement falters and you can feel his cock pulsing and twitching inside you, coating your walls with his cum.
A few more sloppy thrusts follow as he spends every last drop inside you, filling you up fully.
He stays deeply buried inside you for a moment, hips firmly pressed against yours as he pushes you down onto himself until his grip finally loosens and he relaxes into his chair again, breathing heavily.
Still straddling his lap you can feel his seed leaking from your hole but right now you couldn’t care less. You couldn’t be bothered if it might stain his pants further. All that matters is that you are in your Count’s embrace, his arms snaking around you to keep you against himself.
After a bit of silence, allowing yourselves to catch your breath, he speaks up again, voice still low and husky.
“So, would you still prefer my coat?”
A smile grows on your lips at his question.
Obviously you would never prefer anything or anyone else over him. He is your everything. Has been so ever since you arrived at this castle. You are equally as obsessed with him as he is with you.
At this point you couldn’t imagine a life without him anymore, and being in his arms is the most wonderful and lovely spot you can think of.
But sometimes you feel a bit cheeky, and right now is one of these moments.
“I don’t know… if you fuck me like this every time I wear your coat I might grow too fond of it.”
He chuckles at your words, and you can feel it rumbling through his body, causing it to shake slightly beneath yours.
“I will keep that in mind, my love.” he replies, and you both end up growing quiet after that.
You are so comfortable on top of him you are eventually starting to feel sleepy.
Your eyes close, not bothered as he starts to move underneath you. He doesn’t push you away or move you off of him though, no.
Just barely you register as he reaches down for his coat and the heavy weight of the garment settles on your shoulders once more, causing a comfortable smile to spread on your lips. You inhale, his scent filling your lungs.
So you remain like this, on top of your Count, wrapped in his mente coat with his arms holding you against his body. The warmth and safety of his embrace is the only thing you feel as the world fades away around you.