by Jourdan Lane
A short time later, Lucien rose and stepped out of the tub. He took my hand and gave a small tug. "Let's get you out and dry."
I let him help me out, and when he insisted on drying me, I stood still and let him. I wondered if this was some sort of ritual for him, something he did for everyone he brought over.
"Only for you."
He knelt, drying my legs, and I placed my hands on his shoulders, closing my eyes. As much as I wanted this, I was terrified that something was going to go wrong; terrified that this would be our last anything together. Lucien's head rested against my thigh and he sighed, placing a kiss against my skin.
I knew he was in my head, knew what I was thinking and feeling, but that he had no words to fill the silence spoke volumes. He was as terrified as I was—maybe even more. Finally, Lucien stood, wrapping my robe around my shoulders.
"It's time, Peter."
* * *
The treatment room looked nothing like what I was used to. Someone had gone to the trouble of setting up a bed on the far side of the room, then cordoning off an area around it with wispy, gauzy materials – from floor to ceiling – giving the room an almost ethereal feeling. The whole look seemed familiar, and I had a sudden flashback to Sabaan's place; the way the material was used was almost exact.
It seemed our teleporting demon had gone out of his way to be nice and useful. I gave Lucien a questioning look, but he just shrugged, trying to hide his amusement. The fact that he was being nice to Sabaan was one thing, but allowing him in the mansion in this way was entirely different.
He was trying so hard to make up for lost time. I caressed Lucien's cheek in lieu of saying anything, knowing that words would only ruin the moment. He caught my hand and kissed my palm before helping me out of my robe.
I pulled the comforter back and climbed onto the bed. Lucien followed after me, but grabbed the comforter and pulled it up around us. I shivered, wrapping my arms around Lucien and resting my head on his chest.
"I don't care how weak it makes me sound. I'm scared, Lucien."
"I am, too."
It was the first time he'd ever echoed the sentiment. Most of the time, his only words in response to my fears had been that things would be fine, everything would work out. A nervous laugh escaped me.
"So."
"Hmm?"
"This is weird. Awkward."
"I'm sorry." He rolled to his side and slid down so that we were face to face. "I just thought we'd lie here for a bit, take things slow."
I caught a length of his hair between my fingers. "Tell me about others you've brought over?"
He frowned. "Why?"
"I guess I just… I want to know what to expect."
"Have you forgotten the part where none of us know what to expect?"
I flicked at his nipple, laughing when he growled and caught my hand. "I hate it when you're a smart ass."
"No, you don't." He rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him. "In fact, I think it's one of the things you love most about me."
"I'm not so sure about that." I grinned and stole a kiss. "There are so many other, better, things about you that I love."
"Are you saying I suck at being a smart ass?"
I kissed my way down his jaw, pressing my lips to his ear. "It's not your best feature."
Lucien pushed up and I groaned as our cocks rubbed together. Slowly, I began humping against him, just enjoying the sensations of heat and skin. After a bit, Lucien rolled me to my back again, kicked my legs apart, then slid a hand between us.
Fingers pressed against me, but not inside me. I put my fingers over his, pushing down on them. To me, there was something just as intimate about having someone's fingers inside you as there was having a cock or tongue inside you. That's what I wanted now, his touch, his fingers.
"Please, Lucien."
He smiled knowingly and pressed his fingers into me – one, then two – stretching me, teasing me, making me gasp. I ground down, biting at my lip as his fingers grazed a sensitive spot. Heels into the bed, legs bent and spread wide, I moved with him. Grinding down, bucking up, just riding his fingers.
"Come on," Lucien whispered, fingers working that spot a little harder. "For me. Come just for me."'
I had no warning. One minute I was grinding and riding his fingers and the next I was coming, a wordless cry escaping my lips. Lucien rose onto his knees, free hand wiping the come from me and spreading it over his own cock. His fingers slicked up and down the shaft and I had a moment of wanting to lick him clean.
"Not this time," he answered, as if reading my mind.
"Next." I nodded, body still writhing on the bed beneath him. "Lucien, I feel…"
"Just ride it, don't fight it."
Lucien pushed inside me, then sank down over me, his weight a pleasant addition. His movements were slow, unhurried, and it was just as good to me as if he was pounding me into the mattress. My skin prickled with heat and power, making me shudder. I couldn't stop moving, writhing.
It was as if I was on some sort of drug, just floating, riding the waves on an anchored boat. Lucien nuzzled my neck, licking, sucking. I turned my head, baring my neck even more. One of his hands caressed my cheek, thumb pushing between my lips.
I rode the euphoria, the sensations building higher and higher until I felt I would explode. Pain at my neck froze me for a moment and I set my teeth around Lucien's thumb, crying out. As Lucien began to drink, that pain became a pleasure like I'd never felt before.
As many times as he'd fed, teased—never had it been like this.
It was so good… So fucking good.
Lucien filling me… filling himself with me.
The give and the take…It was…
Lucien began to thrust harder as he fed, each thrust and pull like a seesaw going up and down. My balls drew up tight and I was right there, just… Lucien thrust again and I gasped, eyes going wide as no air rushed in. I grabbed his shoulders and pushed at him, punched at him, tried to fight him off, the burning pain in my lungs too much.
He grabbed my wrists and pinned my arms over my head. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I jerked, still fighting him.
"I've got you, Peter. Just let go…"
There was a commotion in the distance. Xander's voice, Xander screaming…
But I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The pleasure of before becoming nothing but pain. I couldn't seem to keep my eyes open, no matter how hard I tried. The last thing I saw through a haze of pain and tears was Lucien's beautiful face, pale blue eyes worried, my blood staining his lips.
* * *
Sick. So fucking sick.
I fed at a cut in Lucien's neck, Lucien urging me to drink more, me trying not to choke. I felt so full of him, so full of his blood. I kept pushing him away, but the more I did, the more he forced into me. Finally, he lay down behind me and wrapped his arms around me, warm body cradling me.
Everything hurt. My neck where he fed earlier throbbed painfully and my stomach felt as if red-hot fireplace pokers were being thrust into me repeatedly. I hadn't hurt this much—ever. Not in all the episodes that had threatened to turn me inside out. This was worse.
So much worse.
A wave of pain went through me and I gritted my teeth, trying like hell not to scream.
"W-what's happening? 'S supposed to be okay now."
"Your body is dying, Peter. But you will come out of this. You will. I'll be right here when you come out on the other side."
I clutched him tight, trying not to scream as wave after wave began to hit. "Don't leave me."
"Never leave you, Peter."
"It hurts. It hurts s-so much."
"I know, baby… I know…"
My gut felt as if something was trying to claw its way out of me. I squirmed and writhed, trying to rock to soothe it some, but it just made it worse. Made the pain stronger and stronger. I felt like I was going to puke up every drop of blood Lucien had forced down me, but pain exploded behind my eyes this time.
And I screamed.
* * *
I could smell food. People. Blood.
Dozens of people were talking, near and far.
Heartbeats, breaths of air.
Gasps of pleasure. Gasps of pain.
I tried to open my eyes, but they felt gritty. Dry.
Wherever I was, I wasn't alone. But I didn't need eyes to see who it was. I could feel Lucien right there beside me like nothing else. Lucien touched my face and for a second it felt so good. Until I realized that it felt all wrong.
"What happened? Where am…"
It wasn't my voice. It was a rough, gravelly growl, instead. Startled, I managed to open my eyes. And everything was still all wrong. Where there should have been colors, there were none. Lucien looked at me sympathetically and his eyes weren't even blue anymore.
I reached for him, but my hand, my entire arm was covered in fur.
Fur!
Oh. Shit.
Chapter Sixteen
I awoke with a gasp, eyes going wide. Color burst behind my eyes, everything so detailed it was like a weird fucking acid trip. The painting above the bed was so alive with color it was as if it were moving. But that couldn't be. Paintings didn't move.
It was loud around me. I could hear cars, but couldn't figure out why. People were talking. Whispering. Swallowing. Fucking. The tick-tock of clocks, the thump-thump of heartbeats. It was so much to take in. Too much. I tried to shut it out and oddly enough it began to fade.
I sat up in bed, looked down at my naked chest, my arms, felt my face. No fur, just a little hair. My hands were normal hands, not some half-shifted paws of a wolf.
Goddamn. That was some fucking dream.
There was a gnawing pain in my stomach and I turned my head and looked to the side. Lucien was propped on his pillow, relaxing, one arm tucked behind his head—watching me. My body just tingled at the sight of him and I leaned over with a smile, kissing him.
Something sharp poked the insides of my lips and I pulled back, surprised. Fangs. I laughed, running my tongue over them, feeling them with the tips of my fingers. They felt a little awkward at first, but oh-so-fucking-awesome.
"Such pretty fangs you have," Lucien teased.
"Tell me I'm not dreaming."
Lucien laughed, smoothing my hair back. "No, not a dream, lover."
"Because you wouldn't believe the dream I had. It was so…" I broke off as Lucien's smile disappeared and he looked more…sympathetic than anything. "Oh, God, it wasn't a dream, was it?"
"You mean the part where you turned into a wolf? No."
I flopped back on the bed, groaning. "I hoped Doc was wrong about all of that."
"If it's any consolation, you are beautiful."
I looked over at him. "A wolf, huh? As in the 'big-bad'?"
"Huge."
I raised an eyebrow. "How huge?"
"Until now? Xander and Nikolas were the largest werewolves we had. Nikolas looks like a pup compared to you."
The pain in my stomach gradually got worse and became more of a burn. "I don't feel so good, Lucien."
"But you'll be fine; I promise." He kissed my forehead and got off the bed. "You only need to feed."
I lay there for a couple seconds, but finally threw the comforter off and moved to the edge of the bed. I pulled the curtain back and stood, wobbling a little. My body felt almost alien to me, and it took me a few moments to steady myself. One foot in front of the other, I half-shuffled, half-walked to the closet. Lucien handed me a pair of soft, black leather pants. I looked at the pants, looked at him.
"Please don't tell me we're going out."
"We are—but not until you've fed." He grinned. "I advise against the shirt until you get the hang of not making a mess."
I smacked his arm and he lost his footing, going headfirst into the rack of clothes. I grabbed at him, trying to catch him. "Oh, God, I—"
"Obviously, some things need to be discussed sooner than others." He steadied himself, shaking his head, laughing. "Your strength is also… huge."
"I'm starting to feel like the elephant in the room."
"No, no one pays any attention to it. You're more like the bull in the china closet."
I sat on the arm of a chair and started pulling my pants on. The material was rough and scratchy against my skin, not at all how I remembered these pants. I handed them back to Lucien.
"Can you hand me a different pair?"
"Why?"
"I don't like these."
"You'll get used to it."
I huffed and stood, going into the closet. Every single piece of clothing I touched was the same, some fabrics worse than others. The silk pajama bottoms I once loved were like sandpaper.
"What the hell?" I grabbed the first pair of pants Lucien had originally handed me and started putting them on again. "This fucking sucks."
There was a knock at the door and Lucien patted me on the shoulder. "I think this will make you feel better."
I finished putting the pants on and walked out of the closet, only to see Rhys standing in the middle of the room. He was one of the few donors that only fed Lucien. Rhys didn't hang out much at the club, but when he did, everyone remembered it. I couldn't count the number of people who'd requested to feed from him over the past year.
He smiled up at me, dark brown hair hiding one of his blue-green eyes. I could hear his heart beating strong and steady. His breath as it passed through his lips. Could smell his arousal, musky and male. I moved toward him and the rest of the room seemed to just fall away.
"Hello, Rhys." I stepped behind him, fingers brushing along the smooth expanse of his neck. "Haven't seen you in a long time."
"Been… " He shuddered, groaning as I licked just beneath his ear. "Away."
"I'm so glad you came home."
His heart sped up. "Wouldn't have missed this for anything."
"Is that right?" I pushed his shirt up and off, one hand going to his belly, the other moving to his chest, finding a nipple and rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. "I'm honored, Rhys."
Lucien's hands grabbed at my hips, teeth nipping at my neck. "Listen to his heartbeat; he's ready."
I tried to concentrate on Rhys' heartbeat, but the way he was rubbing and squirming against me made that difficult. Lucien reached around us both, pressing a thumbnail against Rhys' neck.
The moment I smelled blood, I growled, pushing his hand away. I licked the blood away, set my teeth against Rhys' neck, but couldn't bite down. I started to pull away, but Lucien pushed my face into Rhys' neck.
"First time's the hardest."
I found the spot again and bit down. Rhys gasped, back bowing, and I almost let him go. But his blood, rich and sweet, coating my tongue was too fucking good. The burning, gnawing pain in my stomach disappeared almost immediately. Rhys' knees buckled and I followed him down to the floor.
"Oh, Fuck. Oh, God…please… can I?"
I didn't know what he wanted, what he needed, and I wasn't sure I cared. I growled, holding him tighter as I continued to feed.
"You may, Rhys," Lucien answered gently.
Rhys shifted a little, but instead of moving away, he leaned back against me. Short, quick bursts of movement followed, his moans and cries growing louder, harsher. The more he moved, the louder he cried, the sweeter his blood became. I drank and drank, feeling his blood seep into every fucking part of my body.
"Heartbeat, Peter," Lucien reminded with a whisper.
Rhys' heart was beating fast, but there were skips and stutters. Suddenly, Rhys bucked against me, heart racing, blood just pouring down my throat. When he relaxed against me, Lucien's fingers rubbed insistently against the side of my mouth.
"Stop!" Lucien gave me a nudge as well.
I pulled off, careful not to tear him open as my fangs left him. Poor thing, I'd bitten him twice. Four small holes and a purplish bruise marred his otherwise perfect skin. I licked at his neck, cleaning the blood from around the wound.
> Rhys reached up, shakily cupping the back of my neck. "Fuck. That was…"
"I'm sorry I got you twice."
He shook his head. "I didn't notice."
"Thank you, Rhys."
"Trust me; it was my pleasure." He pulled away from me and lay down on the floor. "I'm just gonna lie here a minute."
