by Kit Tunstall
Erukán’s hand trembled when she reached out to run her fingers through the hairs shielding his tender sac. She smiled when they tickled. “The hair is coarser than I thought it would be.”
His eyes sparkled. “If you want something soft, caress my balls.”
She did as he bid, running her fingers down the skin, finding it soft as velvet and damp from his bath in the ocean. With light pressure, she cupped the balls, running her thumb over them, to the base of his cock. He groaned when she touched his cock, and it twitched. With her eyes cast away from his, Erukán leaned forward, extending her tongue to catch a pearl of moisture falling from the tip of his cock. It was salty, but not unpleasant.
He leaned back more, to allow her greater access. Obeying instinct, she stretched forward to take the bulbous head of his cock, painted a deep purple from passion, into her mouth. He groaned louder, thrusting his hips. While continuing to stroke his sac, Erukán’s other hand came up to hold his cock steady, as she swirled her tongue up and down his cock, eliciting more sounds of pleasure from Nicholas. With an air of experimentation, she suckled his cock, jumping when he jerked under her hand. She looked up at him with questioning eyes, fearing she had done something wrong.
“Keep going.” His lips had skinned back from his teeth, showing sharp fangs. She experienced a flash of fear at the sight, knowing her lover was not human, but it faded when he pumped his cock deeper into her mouth. Resolved to trust him, Erukán continued her amateur ministrations, as Nicholas writhed with pleasure.
A surge of moisture heralded his approaching orgasm, and she was surprised when he pushed her away before attaining satisfaction. Hurt shadowed her eyes when she met his gaze, noting the hint of red in his dark depths. “Did I displease you?”
Nicholas pushed her back onto the rough ground and laid atop her. “Never.” His mouth devoured hers in a hungry kiss, his tongue sweeping inside to plunder her honeyed depths. “I want to be inside you when I come,” he said when lifting his mouth some time later.
She nodded, eager for his possession. “I want that too.”
A hand pushed between her thighs, nudging them apart. Nicholas shifted until the tip of his cock hovered at the entrance of her pussy. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as his hand guided his cock into her entrance. “I do not want to hurt you.”
She nodded, understanding it might hurt when he joined his body with hers, despite his desire to avoid causing her pain. “I am ready.”
His cock slid inside her slowly, encountering brief resistance, before pushing through to settle deep inside her. Erukán grimaced at the moment of pain, but it faded quickly. As he began thrusting, she met each pump of his hips with her own, until their bodies were moving in synchronicity. Breathing was a chore, taking too much focus away from the desire reflected in his eyes, and she had to force herself to keep doing the simple task. As another orgasm approached, she held her breath for a longer period of time, sensing she was on the cusp.
Convulsions radiated from her womb, contracting her pussy around his cock to milk every drop of his satisfaction as the orgasm ravaged her. Her breath exploded with a harsh exhalation, and her head spun. She held onto Nicholas as the release ravaged her body. She never wanted to release him. Some of his words made sense as she had a sudden epiphany, remembering much of their past life together. They had lost each other for much too long, but would never part again, now that they were reunited.
Emily awoke to a damp sensation flooding her pussy. Her face felt hot. She was embarrassed, knowing the dream had aroused her. She could still feel a phantom hand between her legs, and her neck throbbed almost painfully. She reached up to touch the spot and found two small puncture wounds. The marks were tiny and nearly smooth, indicating they were old and healing, unlike the wounds Nicholas left on Erukán in her dream.
Her stomach clenched as the girl’s name forced its way into her mind. She didn’t know what had happened to the girl, but Emily was ready to believe, at some point in the past, she had existed. That didn’t mean she was Emily in a former life.
Her cramping stomach distracted her from thoughts of the dream. She cried out from the pain. “Please,” she shouted. “I’m so hungry.” How long had it been since she ate corn dogs and cotton candy at the carnival? Surely, longer than a day or two, judging by the way her body cried out for sustenance so desperately. It must be closer to a week. How could he let her go without eating for such a long time? It made no sense to kidnap her just to starve her.
She tensed when she heard the key turn in the lock. Emily prayed Nicholas had relented and was bringing her food. As much as she didn’t want to see him, her hunger outweighed her fear. It consumed her thoughts.
He sauntered in without so much as a glass of water. “Did you have sweet dreams, Emily?” Nicholas laughed as he approached the bed. His ambiguous expression gave no clue to his thoughts.
“I need to eat.” She cringed at the pleading tone, but pride wouldn’t fill her twisting stomach.
He nodded, looking sympathetic. “So you shall, when you tell me what you dreamed of.” His flushed face bore a calm expression when he sat on the bed beside her. “How much do you remember now?”
Reminding herself again that pride and stubbornness wouldn’t soften him, she said grudgingly, “I dreamed of an Indian girl.”
“Erukán,” he said sadly. “I wish—” He broke off. “Wishes are for fools.” Nicholas grimaced. “Did you dream it all?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I woke up just as they finished in the cave.” Emily’s eyes dropped away from his when she saw his knowing glint. “May I eat now?”
A seductive smile curved his lips, and he unbuttoned the scarlet silk shirt he wore, stripping it off with fluid movements and draping it over the footboard. He leaned back, propped himself near her.
Her eyes widened, and she couldn’t help comparing his chest to the dream version. He looked much the same, except for a patch of scars on his shoulder and whip marks across his side. She reached out to touch them, but stayed her hand before she made contact with his scarred flesh. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story, and you’re hungry.”
She nodded. “I can eat now?”
He extended his arms, as his smile turned mocking. “Come and get it, Emily.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Nicholas tilted his head to display his carotid vein. “You aren’t ready to feed alone. I’ll be your proxy.”
“But…” She trailed off when she realized he wanted her to drink his blood. Her stomach churned, but not with repulsion. She found the idea much too exciting for her comfort. Her body clamored for her to eat, but she resisted. “That’s insane. I want real food.”
He chuckled. “I assure you the blood is fresh and tasty. I recently dined.”
She firmed her lips. “I won’t play your games.”
Nicholas sat up. “Very well. You aren’t hungry enough yet.”
She watched him stand with disbelieving eyes. “What? You’re leaving? I haven’t eaten.”
“I gave you a chance.”
Emily shuddered. “You want me to drink your blood.”
“Yes. It’s what you need, what you crave and what you can’t live without.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He scowled. “Then believe what your body tells you. Listen to its plea for my blood and give in.”
She hesitated, unable to commit to such an act. How could she bring herself to indulge in his psychotic fantasy? Emily squirmed and faced the truth. She was afraid she would like it too much, so what did that say about her? She yearned to taste his blood, and that frightened her. More than that, it aroused her.
“Well, what will it be? I won’t stand here all night.”
Tears pricked her eyes as she struggled to make a decision. Either starve or drink his blood. Her stomach gurgled, and she bent forward, cradling her sides in a futile attempt to deny the hunger pangs. Finally, her shoulders d
ropped. “All right,” she said in a low voice. Her eyes widened with apprehension when he returned to the bed and gathered her close. How would she live with what she was about to do? Yet, she would die if she didn’t surrender. She was determined to escape this lunatic, and that meant she had to do everything in her power to survive. The thought wasn’t enough of an excuse to justify her actions, even to herself.
Chapter Four
Emily tensed when he wrapped his arms around her. He shifted until her lips were near his neck. Her eyes locked on the pulsing vein, and her stomach rumbled. Still, she hesitated. “I don’t know what to do.”
He smoothed away the hair on her face and pushed it over her shoulder with a gesture full of tenderness that repulsed and attracted her simultaneously. His arm remained around her. “Sink your fangs into the vein and slash it open. When the holes are wide enough, you’ll be able to suck freely.”
She shuddered. “Won’t that hurt you?”
Nicholas lifted a brow. “Do you care?”
She licked her lips and didn’t answer.
“You will learn how to feed from the wound with your incisors eventually, but I suspect you’re too hungry for finesse tonight.” He relaxed completely, keeping his neck exposed. “I’ll teach you how to take away the pain for the ones you feed on, but you can’t do that for me.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
His lips twisted into a half-smile. “Your powers are still dormant until you feed. Even if they weren’t, your mind isn’t strong enough to overcome mine and convince me I’m enjoying the experience.”
Emily pushed her face against his skin, realizing he was warm compared to her cool skin. Her stomach quivered with nerves as she positioned her neck to a semi-comfortable position. She touched her lips to his vein, but couldn’t make herself bite him. She sighed and said, “I can’t do it.” Having her lips against his neck muffled her voice.
He was firm. “You must. If you can’t feed from me, how will you ever learn to hunt on your own?”
She shook her head against his neck, brushing her hair across his skin. Slight shudders rippled through him at the action. “I won’t be hunting.”
Nicholas laughed. “You can bet I’m not going through this every couple of nights, love. Bite me.”
She shook her head more vigorously. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yes, you do. You must be seething with anger at the moment.” His voice was a low whisper. “I took you from your home and changed your life forever. You must want to hurt me at least a little.”
She didn’t want his words to work, but they did. Emily’s anger stirred again, propelling her forward. She paused to trace her tongue across the vein, getting a feel for where it was. A corresponding dart of arousal in her pussy made her eyes widen, and she struggled to block out her reaction as she concentrated on feeding. Before losing her nerve, she slid her fangs through his supple flesh. Immediately, blood trickled from the wounds and down his neck. She caught a drop with her tongue, which only served to heighten her hunger—for blood, and for him.
He had stiffened when her fangs penetrated his skin. Now, his muscles bunched further and he moaned when she pulled down her teeth, opening the vein wider. Blood flooded her mouth and dripped down her chin. The coppery odor invaded her nose through the roof of her mouth, making her desperate to feed.
Emily nuzzled closer, fastening her mouth around his weeping neck and sucking greedily. Blood flowed into her mouth faster than she could swallow, and she choked. Before the blood had completely cleared the back of her throat, she was lapping up more.
He twitched under her, and his quiet moans increased her excitement. She felt more than his blood flow through her body. As her heart began to beat faster, power surged within her. She held his life in her hands. It was her choice whether he lived or died. It was heady to have the ability to choose, but her attention strayed from her thoughts to the sensations coursing through her body.
She was more alive than she had ever been before. She could feel the individual threads of the weave of the denim jeans against her legs. The stench of the filthy cotton T-shirt she wore temporarily blotted out the scent of blood, and she thought about taking it off. Pulling away from his throat required too much effort, so she forced herself to ignore the odor.
Tingling warmth had settled inside her pussy, and her nipples hardened against the lace of the bra. She wanted him.
The realization focused her thoughts clearly for a moment. She was scared and confused. In her secret thoughts, Emily had begun to wonder if she was a lesbian—not because she was attracted to girls, but because of her lack of reaction to the opposite sex. No man had ever caught her eye or turned her on before. To feel it now, with Nicholas, was a blessing and a curse. She was relieved to realize she wasn’t frigid, but why was he the one she desired?
She shifted with discomfort, inadvertently tearing the healing vein open again. Once more, blood rushed through her lips, and she forgot about everything but the metallic taste filling her mouth. She forced herself closer, eager to take in all she could.
“You need to stop now, Emily.” He sounded weak.
She ignored him, darting her tongue into a hole and probing for more.
He grasped her shoulders and pushed. “Get off. You’re taking too much.”
The rush of power returned, and Emily slid on top of him until she straddled him. She grasped his arms and held them down, while continuing to consume his blood.
“Dammit. I said stop.” His voice sounded weak, but he nearly succeeded in throwing her off when he strained against her hold.
Emily tightened her grip, then suddenly screamed and broke away. Wave after wave of bright light crashed through her mind, behind her eyes. Each brought a sharp, tearing pain with it that carved straight through her brain. She slumped forward and grasped her head, crying out.
As quickly as it had come on, the pain and light disappeared. She cautiously lifted her head and met his eyes. They were calm. His skin was pale, but he didn’t appear unduly shaken. Phantom pain lingered for a moment longer before fading away. Then she realized she was lying on top of him with her breasts pressed against his chest. She could feel his cock pressing against her leg, and her eyes widened when her pussy provided new lubrication.
He grasped the back of her head and pulled her face to his, licking away a smear of blood from her mouth before tracing her lips with his tongue.
Emily shivered as the sensation spread liquid warmth through her body. She didn’t even think to protest when his tongue slipped between her lips and raked across her fangs. Then his mouth was on hers, and she couldn’t catch her breath, though the ability to take a deep breath had returned with feeding. Her lips moved hesitantly with his, and she groaned as her pussy clenched, aching for his cock to fill it.
He continued to explore the recesses of her mouth, while his hands settled on her hips and shifted her down a few inches, to align their pelvises. She lay sprawled across him, with her hands on his chest, and their groins pressed together. Emily stroked the expanse of his chest, relishing the contrast of his cool skin against hers, which now burned with an internal fire. He had little hair to impede the progress of her long, unpolished nails along their journey. He hissed when she raked a nail across his nipple.
His kisses had grown more passionate, and he nipped her tongue.
Emily stiffened at the small pain, then felt the urge to retaliate. Before she could, his hand cupped her breast through the T-shirt. She moaned and arched when he rubbed a nipple, creating friction with the lace of her bra. She wanted to feel his fingers on her bare flesh.
Maybe he guessed, or perhaps he read her mind, because he broke the kiss and pushed her far enough away to remove the shirt. His supple fingers easily navigated the front clasp of her bra, and he pushed it open.
Emily’s back arched when he cupped her bare breast. She had never felt anything like this. She could feel more than him touching her. She could also sense the way
she felt to him. She could feel his pleasure and arousal, mingled with hers. It was almost as if they were one being, not two.
He pulled her closer and sat up so his mouth was level with her breast. He took one in his mouth and flicked his tongue across the tight bud. His fang grazed the soft skin and sank through, making her wince with a combination of pain and pleasure as he licked the wound. He returned his attention to the nipple, carefully keeping his fangs from the delicate peak.
She could feel him tremble as he suckled—or was she the one trembling? She wasn’t certain, and she didn’t know if she cared to separate their reactions. She wanted this feeling to last forever.
Forever. The thought caused her passion-heavy eyes to open wide. She couldn’t spend forever with this man. She didn’t even know him, aside from a couple of dreams, and what she had observed and experienced at his hands. He was cold and cruel. The passion they shared was an illusion. Maybe it was a side effect of the drug he had given her and the beginnings of starvation. She firmly squashed the voice in the back of her mind that denied such excuses.
She pushed against him, desperate to escape his arms. “Let go.”
Nicholas raised his head, confusion clouding his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not doing this. Not with you.” She pushed him again, this time succeeding in getting him to drop his arms. Emily rolled off him and scrambled from the bed to stand several feet away. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me—”
“I’ve given you eternal life.”
“I’m not a vampire,” she shouted, stamping her foot. The childishness of her reaction would have bothered her under other circumstances.
He moved faster than she could follow. One moment, he was lying on the bed. The next, he held her arm in a tight grip and dragged her into the bathroom. He stopped before the mirror and flicked on the light. Nicholas grasped her chin and forced her to face straight ahead. “Look at yourself, with blood smeared across your face. Blood from my last meal, Emily.” He shook her so hard her teeth clacked together. “You are a vampire.”
