The Beginning

by Angelica Dawson

  Stephan kissed and licked along her neck and she closed her eyes, turning her head to put her nose into his hair, under his ear. His cock left a hot sticky trail along her lower back and she knew in a few moments it would be his turn to fill her.

  Luke grunted, throbbing and erupting inside her. Sophia’s nails bit into his shoulders, the pleasure of the moment enveloping her.

  As soon as Luke released her, feet touching the floor, Stephan crouched and thrust into her from behind. Luke grabbed her, one hand on the breast swaying against his palm, the other slipping between her swollen wet folds to find her clitoris. She cried out when he did and Stephan grunted as well.

  “Hell, woman, I think you’re going to crush me.”

  “Yes, yes,” she moaned, spasming around Stephan who didn’t slow his thrusts until he too was twitching and writhing in pleasure.

  “Damn, Sophia. I could almost go again,” Luke murmured, pulling her closer and picking her up. “But I need my own bed. I trust Stephan will keep you warm in his.” He set her down on the straw mat covered in sheets and blankets. It was rougher than she was used to, but better than her last bed. Luke kissed her, something he hadn’t gotten the chance to do before. “He’s lucky,” were his final words before slipping out.

  Stephan pulled her atop him, the mat not wide enough for both of them. “You smell divine,” he murmured, his lips finding her temple and ear.

  Sophia bit into his throat, and his flaccid penis stiffened. Stephan cursed, not comprehending how he could be hard again so soon, not knowing the cause. Sophia knew, and she sank down on his cock, riding it while she drank. Although she couldn’t spare Stephan, her thirst was too great, she could make his final moments painless. She could offer him that much at least.

  Chapter Two

  She ran for several nights, stopping at the last barn she found, until she was in an open field as the sun crested the horizon. The only building in sight had a stable, but its roof was caved in. It wouldn’t protect her. The sun burned the back of her neck, bringing tears to her eyes, and she stumbled, tumbled, and landed in a heap at the door to the manor. Her hands burned next and she threw caution away, pushing open the door and plunging herself inside, blessedly out of the sunlight.

  “Who is there?” a woman’s voice called.

  Sophia coiled in her crouch, ready to spring and kill.

  “Oh, are you the new maid?” the tall woman asked. She wore only her chemise, but her sharp nose pointed down at Sophia.

  “Nicole? Has someone come? Who is out this early?” Another woman emerged, a shorter version of the first, with the same pinched face and downward glare.

  “It is only the new maid, Claudette.”

  Sophia recognized traces of her native language in their words, but there were many words she didn’t know. Even so, she surmised they believed her a servant.

  “Really? She isn’t impressive, is she? Come girl, stand straight.”

  Sophia’s tension was replaced with confusion and she rose to her feet, bowing her head to the pair. “Signora,” she murmured.

  “Guappo, your name?”

  Sophia blinked. “Sophia,” she replied, hoping she’d understood.

  “You don’t speak French, do you? Well, not as though you’ll be doing much talking anyway. Follow me.”

  Sophia stared at Claudette for a moment before realizing Nicole left the room and hurrying to keep up.

  “What is it, Nicole? You know I’m busy.” The woman bent toward the oven wore a dress, though it wasn’t as fine as the chemise Nicole wore.

  “You won’t be any longer. The new maid has arrived.”

  “She has?” The young woman turned from the oven, her face bright pink from the heat. Her darker hair escaped the ribbon attempting to hold it back. “Thank the Mother,” she murmured, wiping her hands on her apron. She cocked her head, studying Sophia.

  “Something wrong, Louise?” Nicole asked.

  “No, no. Nothing. I’ll get her set up here.”

  Nicole called over her shoulder as she left, “I’d like tea in the next hour and I’m sure Claudette will want the same.”

  “Of course,” Louise answered.

  “Make her bring it,” Nicole shouted.

  “You aren’t a maid,” Louise said, crossing her arms and leaning against the preparation bench.

  Sophia licked her lips. “No.” She hadn’t been wealthy as a human, so she knew a little about cooking and cleaning, but hadn’t done either in years.

  “Then who are you? Why are you here at this hour?”

  Sophia grasped at the few words she’d learned. “Maid.”

  Louise sighed. “I suppose you are now.”

  Sophia stuck to the dark side of the kitchen. Although it had undressed windows, in general, the house received only scattered light. She could manage here. It would be a good place to stop running for a while, and she would learn their language quickly.

  “Why are you here?” When she didn’t answer Louise clarified with hand signals. “Here. Early.”

  Sophia wrung her hands and answered in her native tongue. “I’m lost. My family is dead and...” The words caught in her throat, stuck on memories of flame and ash.

  “Oh, dear, shh. You can stay here. I’ll help you learn to be a maid. How is that?”

  Sophia didn’t understand more than ‘maid’ but the sounds were consoling, so she nodded agreement.

  “Good.” Louise stood straighter and squared her shoulders. “You can begin by watching that loaf of bread and pulling it out before it burns.” Sophia followed her finger to the oven and peeked inside. “Then, the makings for a luncheon and dinner are over there, and as Nicole said, we need tea.”

  Sophia turned in a circle once, then took a kettle to the pump. She may not know exactly what was required, but she knew how to make tea and bake bread. In the section of the kitchen Louise had indicted, Sophia found dry wafers and fruit preserves as well as meat and vegetables ready for a pot, pan, or spit. It required venturing into the sunlight, but darting in and out, she avoided serious burns. Filling a tray with enough for two, she took the kettle to fill the teapot. Louise tossed in a measured amount of dry tea leaves.

  “Good. I suppose I’ll have to teach you French as well.” She sighed. “Tea.”

  “Tea,” Sophia echoed.

  “Bread.”

  And so they rounded the kitchen naming food, utensils, and equipment. They had just rounded back to the tea when Sophia took it up to the sisters. In the interim, the sisters had dressed so Nicole sat to a writing desk while Claudette embroidered. Sophia dodged the bright light coming through the windows to set the tea on a table near the desk.

  “That will be all.”

  It wasn’t, of course, and Louise had to accompany Sophia to obtain instructions and help with translation. The youngest, and in Sophia’s opinion prettiest, of the sisters had the only patience in the house.

  It was as they stood sweating over a cauldron of dirty laundry that Louise tested the limits of her new-found French.

  “No money.” She put her thumb and finger together in a ring. “No coins.”

  “No pay,” Sophia answered. “I here. Eat. Sleep.” She accompanied each with hand signals to be sure she wasn’t misunderstood.

  “Yes.”

  “Money for meal. Money for room.”

  Louise relaxed and her smile washed away some of the sweat and lines that had gathered on it. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Why?” Sophia put her finger and thumb together. “Why no money?”

  “Our father died suddenly during his last visit. We are girls, can’t inherit, so we pretend he is alive until we can be married.”

  That had a lot of words Sophia didn’t understand. She knew father and girls and filled in the rest. They were running out of money before someone discovered they were orphaned.

  “I help. Maybe.” She snickered. How could she help a trio of noblewomen? She was also a woman and not noble, not even fluent in French
.

  Louise laughed too. “Maybe. Help now.” She set back to stirring the boiling water. She pulled out the first dress and dropped it into a cooler tub where Sophia worked it on the scrubbing board. Her heightened senses screamed in pain as her knuckles were rapped against the metal over and over, but she turned her attention to Louise, focusing on her warm eyes, her shining hair, her plump lips.

  Oblivious to her observer, Louise scratched her breast and underarm, sighing before moving her paddle through the water again.

  “Louise! Sophia!” Nicole shouted through the house.

  Sophia motioned for Louise to stay. Upstairs, Nicole held out a torn stocking. “Sophia, please mend these. What I wouldn’t give to be able to just make another pair.”

  Puzzled, she examined the silk, the hole and resulting run. “Yes.” She had no idea how to fix it, but Louise must.

  “Also, this room needs cleaning.” She wiped her finger over a table and left a streak in the dust.

  More confident this time, Sophia agreed. She would go through the rooms while they slept, and hopefully, hide away during the brightest part of the day. Stockings in hand, she returned to Louise and the laundry.

  “She didn’t. I told her I can’t mend those any more. They’re more mending than silk now.” Louise shook the stocking and then threw it to the ground. “How are we going to find husbands when we can’t even clothe ourselves?” She covered her face with her hands.

  Sophia ran over and hugged Louise, her lips finding Louise’s ear.

  “Sophia?” Louise pulled away enough to turn her head.

  “Louise.” She kissed the other woman gently on the lips. “Thank you.”

  The youngest sister leaned her forehead to rest against Sophia’s. “Thank you. Together.”

  “Together,” Sophia echoed, pulling her tighter. Inhaling Louise’s sweat-streaked skin made Sophia’s mouth water. It took all her will power to keep her mouth away from the woman’s neck. Maybe just a nip on her ear.

  No!

  Cleaning wouldn’t be her priority tonight. There had to be a farm or other neighbor that she could feed upon. Someone she could kill without notice or penalty.

  “Sophia? Are you well?”

  “Yes.” She picked up the stockings, and in an effort to avoiding more questions, she returned to her washboard. “I mend.”

  “Good luck.”

  ***

  Sophia served the two elder sisters in the dining room. Louise joined them as Sophia ladled out soup. She had washed and donned a dress equal to those worn by her elders.

  “Louise, how nice to have you join us again.” Nicole reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand.

  “Yes, thank you for filling in while we waited for Sophia.” Claudette smiled at the vampire who bobbed in respect before filling the third bowl for Louise.

  Returning to the kitchen, Sophia sliced bread and meat to follow the soup. Once that was set on the table, she fled out the kitchen door, sprinting through the twilight to find blood before anyone noticed she was gone.

  The garden in the back gave off the aromas of a multitude of herbs, dill, basil and thyme most strongly. Sophia didn’t get more than one breath before she was hurtling down the hill toward the only building she could see from the garden, a barn.

  A lantern cast soft light on cow, stool, and man, a steady rhythm of spraying milk hitting the metal of the pail. The bovine smell overwhelmed her, but that only gave her a moment respite from the scent of blood pumping through the man on the stool. Sophia could hear his heartbeat in the quiet.

  The pattern was interrupted as the man turned to see who had intruded, his fair face reflecting the pale yellow light. “Hello. Who are you?”

  She didn’t try to answer, not knowing the words she needed in French. Her body could speak louder and clearer anyway. She pulled the strings holding her dress together and let it fall to the floor, her chemise pulled off after.

  He rose quickly, kicking the pail and making the cow low. Sophia raced to catch the tipping bucket and picked it up, setting it beside the door she had entered.

  “No milk.” She used both hands to grip his dirt-streaked golden hair and pulled him into a kiss. He pressed into her, backing her to the door and making the hanging lantern sway. Slopped oil hissed and Sophia flinched before remembering how far from her the source of flame was. In that second, his hands planted on the wall, trapping her. Clawing at his head and neck, she climbed him, straddling his hips.

  “You are sin itself, Cherie. Your skin so soft.” She couldn’t translate his words but had heard the tone thousands of times, sweet nothings. He fought against his clothing, which foiled his attempts to shed it. Leaving him to his frustrations, she closed her teeth on his ear.

  “Ow!” He grabbed her hair, but rather than pull, he held her closer. Her saliva had turned his anger and fear into lust. It would cloud his thoughts until she finished, or he died, whichever came first.

  He managed to free himself and thrust into her. Her head slammed against the wall, breaking her suction.

  “Yes. More.” Sophia’s back scraped along the wood with each thrust, each one loosening the tension that had built in the kitchen with Louise. She had never had sex with a woman, but something in the kind-hearted sister made her curious.

  Her strength was more than enough to twist him, rolling along the wall until his back scraped on the rough wood. Driven to sate her sexual hunger, she rode his phallus. Slipping her hand down, she brushed the hair around his cock and that over her sex, through the split in her lips. Circling her tender nub, she squeezed harder on the hard member inside her, making him pulse and twitch. The tiny movements drove her higher, into her own climax.

  “God.” He shuddered, his orgasm sapping his strength. Releasing his grip on her, she sank to her feet. His hands continued to caress her face and breasts while his chest heaved and he tried to regain his lost breath.

  Sophia wasn’t close to finished. Although she longed to climb atop him again, she opted to slake her thirst first. His warm breath swirled around her ear as she bit him just below his lobe. Thick, hot blood pumped into her mouth and she closed her lips on the wound, sucking and swallowing.

  His cry of pain lasted only seconds. Unable to lift her, he sank to the straw, pulling her down with him.

  Straddling his hips, she used him to scratch the itch deep inside her. Thankfully, her saliva had worked it’s magic and he was hard again. Relishing the hard shaft she could squeeze and rub herself along, she sucked the wound for several more mouthfuls, long enough for the wound to start to close. Once the blood stopped, she put all her attention into the place they were joined.

  In her language, she gave voice to the pleasure that was nearing its peak. The farmer didn’t look confused or put off at all. Instead he encouraged her with French words she didn’t understand. Their bodies made more sense than any words could.

  Her nails dug into his chest as she arched her back and impaled herself completely. Her spasms sparked a chain reaction where he throbbed, igniting her pleasure again.

  The moment passed and she sank onto her palms, leaning close enough to brush his lips with her own. His eyes were shut and his breathing low and even. She smiled and kissed his cheek. His heart beat loudly to her ears, so she was certain he had just passed out or fallen asleep. Picking up her dress, she took a moment to shake straw off before donning it.

  When she returned to the house, all three sisters were asleep. Louise reclined on a mat next to the stove in the kitchen. Sophia smiled and picked her up. Louise’s slight weight was nothing to the vampire who found a third, empty bedroom and laid her friend upon the bed within.

  “Sleep well.”

  Louise gave a tiny grunt and rolled over, hugging her pillow.

  From there, Sophia set about the cleaning in the sunniest, most exposed rooms. She started with the solarium, then the parlors, and finally the library. She was in that last when dawn broke on the horizon.

  Washing the dust
from her hands in the kitchen, she swapped it for flour, coating her skin as she kneaded bread and popped it into the oven. From there, she moved to preparations for the meals of the day.

  Sophia turned at the sound of Louise’s hurried steps to the kitchen. “They’ll kill me if I don’t have tea... Oh!” She stopped abruptly upon seeing Sophia in the kitchen. “I’d forgotten all about you.” She inhaled and relaxed. “You’ve already started breakfast.”

  “Rest,” Sophia suggested, tapping the woman on her shoulder. Louise sank onto a stool.

  “How long have you been awake?”

  Sophia didn’t answer and it took a few minutes for Louise to convey her message. Sophia used the new vocabulary to reply. “Not sleep.”

  Throughout the day, Sophia urged Louise to sit with her sisters, to take her day the way they did. After all, she didn’t need to act as their servant anymore.

  The youngest sister looked out of place when Sophia served their meals and tea, but over the days, as Sophia picked up more and more French, Louise settled back into her place as the daughter of a nobleman.

  At the end of the day, Louise would help Nicole undress as Sophia did for Claudette. Sophia loved the little chore because it led to helping Louise out of the finer clothes she still wore reluctantly. It was a tantalizing prelude to her nearly nightly trips to the milking barn.

  “I’m going to ruin it.” Louise brushed at a smudge of soot from where she had bent to tend the fire.

  “Only if you keep doing the work that should be mine.” Sophia let her fingers brush Louise’s skin around the collar of her chemise and along her leg as she rolled down her stockings.

  “It just seems odd, to be doing so little with my day. How do other ladies do it?” She picked at a loose thread on her sleeve.

  “You need to use your skills in a new way. Stitching becomes embroidery, gardening becomes flower arrangement, and cooking becomes pastry design. You will find your way.”