Part 1 is available [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/lqegjl/silian_and_saphonia_part_1_of/).
Silian coughed a wretched, ragged cough into the muddy cold of the stone floor. He blinked up into the moonlight, which was taunting him over his face. The only moon that managed its way into the cell was a triple sliver of silver, moving silently across the floor as the night went on. This winter had had more than the usual amount of clear nights, or at least it seemed that way from in here, the moonlight laughing silently at him. So now it hung on his face, casting grey light into the faded grey of his eyes. His irises faded to white at the edge. Even his pupils were faded to a hoary mist. From even the closeness of the rats’ bodies right before him, it wouldn’t be possible to discern where pupil faded to iris faded to white, such was his hunger.
He knew they were weakening him, now that she was here. He knew they knew he would be able to scheme his way out if he had the acuity and physical strength to power his mind, to plan with her. They could not feel safe with a vampire and faery in the same cell. Saphonia was behind him, against the door, sitting up. He didn’t know it from seeing her, but he could feel her presence, asleep, peaceful, calm. She was in her human form, a full presence in the cell. Silian thought to roll, to look at her, to confirm he had the senses still to feel something so clearly. Or would he have been rolling just to look through the darkness at her, to be able to smell her more, bring himself closer to her.
A coolness bled onto his cheek from his mouth, and he realised the thin saliva he had left in him was seeping out onto the floor. He tipped his head away from the ground, facing the ceiling.
“Sil?”
He blinked and started, moving his head yet further from the floor, twisting back towards the door to see her now. He had felt her asleep and away, but now she was awake and beside him, on her knees, her palms flat on the ground and her hair hanging down past her face, falling in a crimson wave towards the floor.
“You weren’t asleep,” he managed to mutter, not sure if he was asking her a question or expressing a torpid surprise.
“Sil,” she whispered again, swatting away his confusion with blinking eyes. “Are you okay?”
He had explained during a whispered exchange that day that the rats and woodland animals they had been bringing him each day were the meals only now after she had been brought in; he had been fed proper food before she arrived. This span of months where he had been subsisting on morsels was becoming draining, he could feel it inside, sapping him of his mind. She had reproached him, filled with ire that he would blame her. He was not blaming her; he needed to explain it to her so she knew he would fade and the they had only days before he expired. She accepted this in silent absorption, giving him only oblique glances, showing him the full profile of her face.
Saphonia had yelled at the guard when she asked him to get a person for Silian to eat, sworn the unsuspecting guard would be the first thing Silian would sink his teeth into when they broke free of this pathetic excuse for a castle, wailing at him that she would be finding every last useless drug of his family and obliterating them with the most disgusting magic she knew. She had gone into a rage and dented the cast iron grated door with a force even she hadn’t seen in herself for years. There followed an afternoon of activity in the cell, she and he restrained by living vine, with human Killainian guards crowding them in, some watching the prisoners, restrained and sedated, barely conscious, while other guards industriously replaced the entire door. Rather than a closely reticulated iron one, one which had allowed them to peep out into the dungeon’s corridor and see the guards passing by, there now was a fully iron door, with but a slit at the top and a tiny hole at Silian’s head height, through which food and other things were obviously to be passed.
Now he lay here on the floor in the moonlight, slow of thought and distracted to almost unconsciousness at his hunger. “No, I don’t think so,” he wheezed. “I need…” his voice faded to silence.
“I know,” she whispered. A whoosh of air beside him meant she had shrunk, and she landed on his chest. He gazed down at her, barely able to make out the shape of her on his body. “We can always, you know…” she didn’t finish.
He breathed, trying to fill his lungs. “What good is it to us, one weak, one fine.”
“Yes, but you’ll die if you don’t eat more. Just tonight.”
“They’ll see,” he hissed. “They’ll know. If you aren’t here when they come and I’m barely conscious, what good are either of us to each other.”
“You fool,” she moaned in frustration, bouncing on the balls of her feet. He felt her land on him each time with thuds against the cavity of his right lung. She took two steps forward, digging the heel of her soft boot under the hem of the black silken cloth crossing his chest, yanking it past her, down his chest. She knelt now and dug her palms into his upper chest.
“Saph, it’s too…” his voice faded as he felt himself fade yet more. She pushed both legs under the hem of his clothes and now lay against his skin completely, willing heat into his body. She rotated and lay across the width of his chest, her ear pressed into the rise of his breast. She felt his heartbeat, slow and quiet. “Saph,” he groaned again.
Her palms were flat, pressing down and into his flesh. He felt the warmth trickle through his entire body, emanating from the tiny mound of heat created by the faery under his clothes, against his bare skin. When she felt his heart stir, she wriggled out pressed both her feet between the split V of his shirt, righting herself so the top of her head was under his chin, her face pressed into his throat. Slowly, he felt the growth of heat across his neck and upper chest, and the weight of Saphonia bulge, slowly until she was once again full, her elbows pressed into his sides and palms under his shoulders, the toes of her boots pressed into the floor beside his heels. The sweet smell of her hair was growing in his mind, and the full weight of her body, her breasts and pelvis and legs and head. And throat. Through the scrim of her hair, he saw her bare neck, the pale smooth white, her pulse twitching, could feel the blood coursing through her, smell her heat and feminine faery body. She exhaled and collapsed further onto him, closing her eyes.
Suddenly he convulsed and, frightened and perturbed, she tried to spring away. No sooner had she dug her knees under herself to push away from him, she was flat on her back. He was on top of her now, upright in the moonlight. His breathing was deep, fast. Shocked into stillness, she could do nothing as he straddled her, the inside of his thighs squeezing her hips, and she felt his hand in her hair, pulling her head back. She looked down at him as he brought his face down to her throat, as she had done to him not moments before. His breathing, so shallow and steady before, now deep and long, but still shuddering. Each breath in was terraced, starting and stopping as if he was a beast in the woods, and the same on the way out. She lay petrified, clasping her hands in fists beside her. Now his face was an inch or less from her neck, which was vulnerable to its fullest, her hair still yanked away from her in his fist. She opened her mouth, to cry out maybe, but stayed silent, watching him sink to her throat yet closer. Then the heat of his mouth and ecstatic extrusion for him. Her mouth opened in shock and pleasure before the world faded to black.
Silian did not just lie on her as he drained her, he pressed and sank into her body. He ravished her neck with a greed he had not felt in centuries. He moaned and shook, spasming with energy. After she had gone limp in his arm, he seized again, shaking hard, as if cursed, grabbing more at her and sinking yet further into her skin with his mouth. He lay on top of her, his heart racing and chest rising and falling, rolled off her, holding her frame in one hand and her hair still in his other, pulling her to him as her neck lolled back more, as if for him.
The moon, still following him across the floor, was now further down his body. He noticed the smell of the air and the room again, the faery’s eyes closed peacefully in front of him too. He rolled her head forward towards him, covering her face and neck with her fragrant hair, lest a wandering guard see the glowing wound at her neck. He exhaled and fell into a deep sleep beside her.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/makkik/silian_and_saphonia_part_2_of