by Lund, S. E.
I hold my breath because I'm torn between the eroticism of it and how his touch still tickles. I don't know whether to groan or giggle.
"You have such nice toes, Eve," he says, and tongues my baby toe, sucking it briefly before slipping his tongue between it and its neighbor. That sensation goes right to my clit and now I do groan just a bit. He kisses the bottom of my foot and then my ankle and calf. I know where this is leading.
"Oh, God," I say, and close my eyes. "I'm ready right now."
"I know you are," he says. "You've always been so responsive. Have I said that I love that about you? Despite everything that happened to you, you haven't shut off."
I open my eyes and look at him. Despite everything that's happened to me. Of course, he means Thompson. He means my mother's death. He means everything that's happened since we met.
He pulls me over to him so that I lie on top of him in the bath, my arms around his neck and I can't help remembering a journal entry where I was in a tub in Julien's warehouse, lying just like this.
"I wish it had been you who killed Thompson," I say and tuck his hair behind his ear.
"I had so many plans to be your first in everything, to be your champion, and yet I find my brother replaced me in them all."
"You gave me to him like some spoil of war," I say, unable to keep a tiny bit of hurt from my voice despite the fact that I have no memory of it, just the words written in the pages of my journal.
"I had no other choice. It was Julien or Soren."
"Julien could never replace you," I say. "He admitted it to me. All I'd ever be to him is a good fuck."
"He did care for you," Michel says, frowning. "In his way."
"Then, was he at least upset to think I was dead?"
"He was," he says, glancing away from my face. "Upset. Yes. But you've read your journal. He's glib. He thinks life is a big game. A joke."
"I think he was upset because he thought I was supposed to be his Adept, not yours."
Michel shrugs. "Let's not talk about him. He's moved on and so must we. Now," he says and moves my hair from my neck, "there are other places on your body I intend to suck, so let's get out."
I smile at him, a thrill going through my body at that. He makes that throat sound and pulls me close, kissing my cheeks, one after the other.
"Temptress," he says and helps me up. I step out of the tub and he follows me, then he wraps a towel around me from behind, kissing my neck. He quickly dries himself off and then takes my hand, leading me to the bed, which is huge, the four posters thick, the wood dark. The cover is a fine creamy silk in blue like his eyes. He removes my towel and sits down on the edge, pulling me onto his lap so that I straddle him, one knee on either side of his thighs. He's already erect, and I'm already imagining what he'll feel like inside of me.
I let him take control, let him decide how this will happen. He just nestles his face in my neck and we sit like this, our bodies still damp and warm from the bath. We haven't connected, haven't joined senses yet, and as we touch, we feel each other's body independently. He begins kissing my neck where he bit me and then I feel him try to enter my mind. He wants to feel my response and so I let him in. He keeps his own response from me, wanting to know how I feel without his own response magnifying it.
"But I like to feel you," I say and he slips a finger to my lips and stops me. I comply, resisting no more. I let him do as he will. This is him taking control.
He continues to kiss my neck, licking his bite mark, and my body can't help but respond to him. I feel myself becoming even more swollen and wet, my flesh throbbing at the sensations of his mouth on my skin, his hands traveling up and down my back, squeezing my buttocks, pulling me against his erection. I want to rub myself against it, but don't. If he wants me to, he'll tell me to.
"On your knees, Eve," he says, his voice firm.
I freeze for a moment. Since I've been back with him, there have been no real orders given, no real attempts to be dominant on his part nor has he asked me to submit. All I have to go by are my comments in my journal about how it thrilled me to have him command me despite my reluctance.
I slide off his lap and kneel between his thighs. I look at his face, waiting for more orders.
"Place your hands on my thighs."
I comply, waiting. His erection is thick and still wet and just inches away from my face.
"Lick me," he says as he leans back, resting on his hands. "All over from base to tip. But don't take me in your mouth yet."
My heart is pounding, my flesh aching, and I comply, leaning forward, my hands on his thighs as he directed. I lick him, starting at the base, moving my mouth and tongue to the tip.
"Keep your eyes on mine as much as you can, Eve. I want you to watch how you please me."
I do, locking eyes with him, and try to lick him again without looking away. It makes it even more intimate, watching him respond to what I'm doing. His blue eyes are half-hooded, his lips slightly parted. He inhales sharply when my tongue reaches the head of his cock and I swirl my tongue around it, catching some of his fluid as I do. I close my mouth and swallow, enjoying his salty taste.
"Again," he commands and I comply, repeating the movements over and over. I can feel him hardening even more the as I continue to lick him. My own body is becoming more aroused as well. I want to take him fully in my mouth and suck, to watch his face while I do but I wait for his order.
"Now," he says, and I know exactly what he means but he says it anyway. "Take me into your mouth and suck me until I tell you to stop."
I do, taking him into my mouth, sucking, rolling my tongue around the rim, moving my mouth over the head. He tenses as I do, his breathing becoming more ragged, his nostrils flaring. After a few moments of this, he reaches out and guides my head, moving me so that I take him in more deeply, and I try to keep my eyes on his as I do. He strokes my hair, watching me suck him.
"Stop," he says, and I comply, pulling off him slowly, letting him slip out from between my lips. He closes his eyes for a moment and then stands up before me, his cock jutting out, hard as rock. He raises me up and turns me around, making me lie on my back across the bed. He bends my knees, and lies between my thighs, kissing my neck, then moving his mouth all over my body, from my wrists to my shoulders, to my breasts, my belly, my thighs.
I'm so wet and ready, my flesh throbbing and aching, my heart pounding as I wait for him to either lick me or fuck me – either one will do.
"I want to eat you, Eve," he says, his voice all throaty. "But you'll come right away if I do. I can tell how close you are and I want to be up close to you so I can watch your face when you come. You're so ready. After you drink my blood, you'll come within a minute, maybe two " I'm unable to respond as he kisses all around thighs and his hair tickles my sex. "So I'm going to fuck you instead. I love to feel you come with my cock inside of you. I love to watch your face when you come while I'm fucking you."
I don't know why hearing Michel say these words makes me even more delirious with lust, but it does.
"Then, I'm going to bite you, drink your blood. When I come, you're going to watch me, Eve."
I nod. I'd agree to almost anything right now, barely able to think clearly. I want his blood, I want that oblivion that I feel when I drink it.
He leans over me, his erection pressing against me, and opens a small wound on his neck. I cover it with my mouth and suck, taking in a mouthful of blood, which seems to go right to my flesh and I almost come just from feeling the pressure of him against me.
I pull away when I'm finished, and float on a sea of lust, waiting for him to enter me, my eyes closing.
"Keep your eyes on mine, Eve," he commands. I open my eyes again and try to focus but all I feel is my aching body, dying to feel him enter me.
He finally does, sliding inside me slowly until he fills me up completely. The pressure alone is almost enough to make me come, but when he starts to move, rocking against me with each thrust, it's enough and that swee
tness starts deep inside my groin, spreading down my legs and up in my body, my face feeling flushed, all my muscles tensing. I gasp as my body convulses, and he thrusts harder, sending me over the edge. Then he seems to hold me there at the peak for so long, like he's done something to stop time.
When he bites my neck and drinks my blood, the pain is sharp and bright as his teeth break my skin. It makes my back arch, pressing my body against his, but it also clears my mind.
In that moment, when he's fucking me, drinking my blood and his blood is in me, we connect so deeply, our minds and bodies almost fusing as one. I search his mind when he's in so deeply, his orgasm just starting. I find the memory, and in this moment of time standing still, I relive it while he groans.
He can't stop me.
"You're going to keep your mouth shut, Michel. I don't care what you think. If she doesn't comply, she dies."
Soren holds Michel's chin in his hand, using his powers to force Michel's compliance. Michel's helpless to resist.
They enter my mother's laboratory. It's a Tuesday evening just before Christmas. She's working late on a report and has me with her, because my father is practicing with the Boston Chamber Orchestra. Soren goes right into my mother's lab. Michel peeks in the office and sees me sitting there on the floor by her desk, old issues of National Geographic spread out beside me. Soren has no idea I'm here, so intent on getting to my mother that he fails to notice my scent but Michel can't miss it.
"Hello, Eve," he whispers. "You stay here. Your mother has some business to attend to. I'll be back in a minute. Do you understand?"
I nod, and barely acknowledge him, more interested in what I'm reading than my mother's visitors. He follows Soren into the laboratory where my mother sits at a desk, going over a report, checking results.
Soren already has my mother by the throat, and it's clear when Michel enters, that she's refusing him. Soren leans closer to my mother, his face next to hers, and she looks determined, as if nothing could make her comply.
He raises his hand and slaps her across the face. The blow makes her head jerk back, knocking her face to the side. Blood dribbles out of the corner of her mouth.
"Stop!" Michel says, lunging at Soren, but the larger man merely grabs Michel by the head and compels him once more.
"You're going to stand there and say nothing. Do you understand?"
Michel is helpless to refuse him. "I'm going to stand here and say nothing."
"Good."
Soren goes over to my mother and strokes her cheek. "Poor Natalia," he says. "Mean old monster going to hurt you because you won't comply. How much pain do you think you can take? Shall I use a closed fist this time?"
"You'll do what you want," my mother says. "Don't hurt Eve."
"She's mine now. You made your choice."
Soren turns to Michel. "Kill her," he says. "Drink her blood. Then find the whelp and send her to one of our families."
Michel steps back, shaking his head.
"No," he says, his voice breaking. "Don't make me do this. She's my friend."
Soren takes Michel's face in his hand. "Drink her blood until she's dead like a good servant."
Michel is helpless to refuse him once again, his mind blank. He goes to my mother and takes her in his arms. He's doing things without knowing what he's doing and can't stop. Soren's compulsion is too powerful.
"Protect her," my mother whispers in his ear. "Give her a new life. Don't let her be like me."
"I can hear you," Soren says, his voice impatient. "That's enough goodbyes, you two. Do it, Michel. I'll be waiting in the car."
Soren leaves the room.
When Michel's finished, when my mother's heart stops, he comes out of the trance-like state he's been in. Grief overwhelms him – how many humans has he killed for Soren over the centuries?
Too many to count.
He lays her down on the floor, hatred for Soren growing to such a great degree, he feels as if he'll explode. Then he sees me standing in the doorway, my face white. He wipes his chin and his hand comes back stained red, my mother's blood is covering it.
My eyes are huge. "What did you do to my mother?"
He stands helpless, wiping his face while I run to her, my hands on the wound on her neck as I try in vain to stop the bleeding but it's too late. I turn to him, my eyes wet. "You killed her!"
He pulls me off my mother's lifeless body and makes a split-second decision. He removes a small ampoule from his pocket. Inside is a new drug that destroys all memories for names and faces and events for the past day. It was meant for my mother if she agreed to comply with Soren and turn over her research, so she wouldn't remember in case the Council decided to evaluate her. Instead, he uses it on me so I won't remember seeing my mother's dead body, or remember seeing him with blood on his mouth. He could try to compel me, but Soren could always make him reverse the effect, and Michel doesn't ever want me to remember this moment.
I won't remember seeing him or Soren in the office. I won't even remember waking up that morning, excited because Christmas is only a few days away. He breaks the tip off the ampoule and forces it between my lips. I grimace at the taste, try to spit it out, struggling in his arms, but he holds his hand over my mouth.
I can't help but swallow.
"There, there, Eve," he says, his voice soft. "It will all be over soon. You'll forget everything and start a new life."
After a moment, I stop struggling as the drug takes effect – the drug that will wipe my memory of the events of the past twenty-four hours.
Michel leaves me by my mother's dead body, unwilling to let Soren know I was here, calling the SCU's EMS team as he leaves the building so I'll be found soon. He wants to ensure I get medical treatment because the drug is so new. It's only after he is able to escape Soren's watchful eye hours later that Michel learns the drug was too powerful for a child of my size. It eats away at my longer-term memory. It almost kills me, causing my brain to swell, affecting my breathing so that I'm intubated.
He visits me in the hospital and makes a vow then and there that he'll hide me from Soren and this life as my mother begged. He'll do whatever he can to prevent me from being brought into this world of vampire hunters and Adepts. He owes it to my mother, whose trust he couldn't help but betray.
He vows that he'll kill Soren one day if it's the only thing he does before he dies.
CHAPTER FOUR
"A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years."
Rupert Brooke
"Eve, no…"
Michel pulls out of the stupor he was in from the combination of my blood and his orgasm, but it's too late. In that strange suspension of time I experience, I'm able to relive the entire memory, even though in reality only a few seconds pass. I see enough to know that he killed my mother. That it was him who made me forget, not my own weak mind.
"You killed her.” I struggle beneath him, but he holds me firm. I stop fighting him and stare up at him, my vision blurry. “You killed my mother. But how…” I search his face. "I read you in the SCU that time I was tested. I saw your last kill…"
"I'm so sorry," he says, panic in his voice.
"But my journal says I read you, when you drank my blood that first time, and I almost died. I thought Soren killed my mother."
He shakes his head.
"Tell me!"
Finally, he closes his eyes and exhales heavily. "I'm eight hundred years old. I know how to block someone. Control what they see."
Numbness fills me, my body tingling as if I'm going to faint. "Have you ever once told me the truth?"
Again, I struggle beneath him, my horror growing with each minute.
“Eve,” Michel says. “It wasn't me. It was Soren's compulsion. I would never kill your mother. You must see that from the memory!"
I can't even look at him, turning my head away, my emotions starting to choke me. He tries desperately to turn my face back, but I keep my eyes closed. Even his attempt to release some kind
of calming hormone fails to comfort me.
"Let me go."
"No," he says, "not until you understand."
"How can I ever understand?"
He finally rolls off me and I crawl away from him, his semen slick on my thighs. I run to the bathroom and kneel down to vomit in the toilet. He follows me and stands over me, holding my hair as I retch.
When I'm finished, I turn around and push him away. "Leave me alone!"
"No," he says and lifts me up, using his superior power to restrain me. His expression is almost desperate but also angry. He presses me against the wall, taking my face in his hands and I’m powerless to stop him.
“I didn’t kill her, ” he says. "Soren did. I was just his weapon."
“Don’t,” I say. "How can I be with you knowing this?"
“Eve, don't do this,” he says and turns my face back. “You're not thinking straight. You must understand I was compelled to do it."
"You were with him."
"I was trying to find a way to stop him."
"I'm leaving."
"I won't let you," he says. "I’ve paid such a high price for you. For all of this.” He waves his hand to the cottage, pointing outside to the ocean. “I can’t have you misunderstand. I can’t have you hate me.” He presses his body against mine and his voice is almost a whisper. “I can’t bear it.”
A rush of something like Nirvana floods through me and it's so intense, I can’t keep my eyes open. All my anger and sadness dissipate and I feel nothing. When I open my eyes again, I’m staring into his blue ones, and his eyes are wet.
“Eve, I love you. I think I’ve loved you since I saw you perform on stage in London. I know that sounds wrong, but you can’t know what it’s like to watch mortals being born, growing up, growing old and dying. For eight centuries I’ve watched while the mortals I’ve known have died. I’ve tried to give you up, but I can’t.” He sighs and leans his arm on the wall, pressing his forehead to mine. “I just can’t. I gave up everything to save you. Don't misunderstand what happened.”
He takes in a ragged breath and runs his finger along my bottom lip, his mind searching mine for any shred of understanding.
