Will tried not to blush. Prison-hardened men did not blush.
Maddox put him out of his misery by sweeping the plate away, still half-uneaten. “Bed, I think,” he said. “You will need your rest.”
Will allowed himself to be escorted upstairs. He expected the bedrooms to have the same minimalist, cold aesthetic of the downstairs, but there was a deep gray carpet up there, one which encouraged his feet to sink into it. The walls were still dark and simple, but there were a few more touches of decoration in the form of wainscoting and sconces which added a traditional touch. Will knew what those things were because the gang who ran the television in his corner of the prison had a fascination with the house channel.
"This is your room. You will no doubt find it plain, but you will receive a decorating allowance.”
“Decorating allowance?” Will smirked. “That’s the gayest thing I've heard all day.”
Maddox did not so much as quirk his lips at the joke. Apparently, internalized homophobia did not please his eternal captor.
“You will be rewarded when you please me,” Maddox informed him. “I can be very generous — at least as generous as I am cruel.”
“The room is really nice,” Will said. “Thank you.”
It was really nice.
There was a bed, a king size bed. It was covered in pristine white linens, like one might see in a hotel room. The entire space was very neutral, like a canvas yet to be decorated. The walls were dark and raw, steel and concrete. They looked institutional. They felt like home.
There was truly not a part of this place that could not be washed down.
“Is that all for me?” He gestured toward the bed, wondering if he was intended to share it.
“My bedroom is through the adjoining door if you should…” Maddox's lips quirked. “Need me during the night.”
The room seemed massive to Will, who was used to sharing a cramped cell with at least one other man, and quite often three other men. His personal space over the past few years had added up to about sixteen square feet if he was lucky. This room, if it really were ever to feel like his, was many times that size.
“Into bed,” Maddox ordered, turning back the covers.
“I need a shower,” Will replied. “I’m filthy.”
“Yes,” Maddox smirked. “You are, aren’t you. And I've made quite a mess of you too, haven’t I. You drip with my seed. It smells good in you.”
Will did his best not to blush and failed.
“Before you shower and sleep, let me tell you the rest of what you need to know,” Maddox said. “You might sleep better with some certainty.”
He sat down on the bed and patted the coverlet next to him, indicating that Will should come and sit next to him. Will did as he was told, moving gingerly. Having been ravaged was going to leave some discomfort for some time. Maddox was a sadist. He didn’t just feed on blood. He fed on fear. Will could still remember the way he felt his master’s cock thicken and throb all the more intensely once he’d started to struggle.
“You’ve lived as an outcast from and prisoner of the society which claims to want to rehabilitate you," Mads said.
Will wasn’t used to hearing people like Maddox express that sort of sentiment. The unholy creature who had sucked his blood and reamed him deeply was replaced by an elegant gentleman of worldly and sophisticated opinions. He seemed human again, in other words. Will couldn’t take his eyes off him. It would have been too dangerous to do so, even if he was not hypnotized by Mads’ magnetism.
“They blame many factors, but of course you ended up in prison. You’re an animal, Will. You’ve never been able to truly adjust to the world as you are. You’ve always felt out of place. Wrong. Different. You felt those things because of what you are.”
“Prison psychologist said I felt those things because my mother abandoned me in a dumpster as a baby,” Will said.
“Your mother would have had very little choice, I imagine.”
“How would you know?”
“Yes. How would I, alive for many hundreds of years, understand what might have happened with you and your mother,” Maddox said, slightly piqued, but only just.
“Did you know her?”
“No.”
Then what did he know? Vampire or not, some things were personal. They couldn’t be guessed at by him, or by anybody else. Will didn’t know why his mother had left him. He only knew that he hated her for doing it. Abandonment was built into the core of him now. It sat at the center of every interaction he ever had. It made it impossible for him to like anybody, let alone trust them.
“Would you like to know why I brought you here, William? Besides your breakability and your fuckability?”