Feral: Part One

by Arisa Baumann

  Let it never be said I was above begging.

  Still he denied me, moving off the bed and smiling when I attempted to growl in annoyance. "Pazienza, tesoro mio. Patience,” he purred reassuringly.

  When he grasped his belt and slowly removed it, the sharp sound of the buckle being removed filling my ears, I felt my face bloom with heat. My lips parted with a soft sigh when I realized I was about to see my mate completely nude for the first time, and a part of my mind briefly wondered if I was ready for this or not. The moment he popped the button from its confines, I knew I most definitely was.

  I was his mate, and he was completely incapable of causing me harm, only able to bring me happiness and pleasure, and while we had indeed bonded more quickly than some humans would find acceptable, the connection was undeniable.

  Beautiful couldn’t even begin describe the sheer magnificence of him, and before I could stop myself, I moved off of the bed to stand directly in front of him. I whispered his name in awe and timidly raised my hand to touch his face, caressing from his cheek to his jaw before standing on tip-toe to press a chaste and adoring kiss to his pale, coral lips.

  He patiently allowed me to explore his body, only turning his head so he could follow my movements and watch me as I moved both hands down the planes of his neck and over those broad shoulders I loved so much. The dense muscles of his arms tensed and flexed involuntarily when I smoothed my palms over them, before raising my hands to his chest. I stepped forward and pressed a tiny kiss over the place where his heart rested in silence.

  The first time I’d laid my head there, it had been a bit disconcerting to not hear the distinct dual thumps I was accustomed to as a human. However, I’d long since grown familiar with the silence, and instead took solace from his steady breaths when I rested in his arms.

  "It doesn't have to beat," I whispered, turning my brown eyes up to meet his deep purple ones, "You have mine."

  "And when yours ceases to beat?"

  "Then you’ll know the last one was yours and that you'll forever be frozen there."

  He ran a thumb slowly over my cheek before pushing a fallen curl from my eyes. "Cara, ti amo.”

  I smiled. “I love you, too.”

  THIRTEEN

  I stared at him for a few moments more before I let my hands continue their eager journey, my fingers fanning out and tracing the firm lines of his abdomen. I smiled internally when the muscles contracted and relaxed beneath my touch when I moved further down his body.

  He drew in a sharp hiss of air when my fingers, warm in comparison to his skin, wrapped around him, and while I was certainly pleased with his length, I was more impressed with the strain on my fingers to keep a firm hold as I stroked him leisurely.

  I gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Do you have any idea just how gorgeous you are, Simon Treviso?"

  Without warning, he swept me up into his arms and laid me down in the center of the bed, spreading himself over me. "A beautiful goddess that I am well acquainted with keeps informing me of this, but I know beyond the shadow of a doubt, the claimed attractiveness of my body and soul pales significantly in contrast to hers."

  He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then he kissed my lips with such tenderness that I lost my breath for a moment. He moved to nibble the corner of my mouth before trailing his lips to my throat and licking the vein on each side, and I shuddered in delight at the knowledge of what was to come. I was lost, though, when he worked slowly down my body, each brush of his cool flesh causing goose bumps to bloom on my skin.

  The attention he gave to one nipple, then the other, was remarkable. He suckled with varying degrees of pressure, then flicked his tongue over the tight buds, swirled and lapped. My whole body seemed to tingle with mounting anticipation, and my mind was hazy with overwhelming feelings of love and lust.

  He continued his journey, pausing for a moment to dip his tongue into my navel, and I squirmed feverishly under his administrations. He teased me until I thought I would scream in frustration, and when his mouth moved lower, I knew I couldn’t possibly survive the near-excruciating pleasure that was beginning to flood my core. Using his thumbs to open me to his gaze, he blew a strong, cool breath on my sensitive clit, grasping my hips and pinning them to the bed as my body instinctively thrashed. "Rilassati, tesoro mio. Easy, pet,” he purred calmly before dragging his tongue over my soaked slit, lapping up my juices greedily.

  I whimpered helplessly, not knowing how much more I could stand, when his cold tongue pushed deep inside my wet heat. His feverish pace, every single stroke seemed to drive me further and further into wanton insanity. "Fuck!"

  I thought, when he was finally finished torturing me, that he was showing mercy, but realized the mistake in my thinking as he ever so carefully pulled the swollen bundle of nerves between his teeth. While he teased the tiny button, he gradually slipped his middle and ring fingers into my dripping pussy, thrusting slowly in and out, his pace quickening as I quivered around his hand. He suckled the bead of flesh, and his tongue flicked back and forth at the same inhuman speed he used to pump me hard and fast.

  In moments, I clenched around him, keening rapturously, and as I floated on a cloud of intense pleasure, he appeared over me. His lips, coated in my juices, claimed mine, and using the combination of my afterglow and the distraction of the kiss, he slid the head of his cock inside, the delicious thickness stretching me wide.

  I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment when I felt the deep pressure inside me. While I was by no means a virgin, Cole was the only guy I’d ever had sex with. It had obviously been a long time since that happened, so my body was struggling to adjust to the intrusion.

  My eyes must have betrayed my emotions, because he lowered his face to my ear, nuzzling and purring. "Diletta," he murmured, "ti amo tanto. I love you, cara, so very much. Take a deep breath for me and try to relax. It will take a few minutes for your body to stretch. Just relax." He licked the shell of my ear, still rumbling softly while he slipped a hand between us, using his speed to brush over my clit.

  After several minutes, my body began to loosen and accept him more quickly, and the marvelous friction from his steady strokes had me writhing under him in pleasure. My fingers fisted in his silky mane as I met him thrust for thrust. "Simon… Cazzo! Oh god…” I soon lost the ability to speak, my breath coming out in uneven pants as he pounded in and out of me, over and over, more rigorously with every jerk of his hips. But my senseless moans and cries seemed to be all the invitation he needed, and I felt the sharp points of his fangs pierce the flesh low on my neck, sinking deeply to a vein beneath.

  The sting from the punctures made me gasp and curse, but the twinge was gone the moment he took a long pull of my blood. My body responded within an instant to the intimate act, shivering as I approached my peak, and when he took a second, strong draw of my life, my eyes squeezed shut and my muscles tightened painfully. I groaned, caught up in waves of pleasure so exquisite they were nearly unbearable as my pussy clamped around his cock, eagerly milking him of every drop of his cool cum.

  I lay there, panting, and released a heavy sigh of contentment through my jagged breath as one hand cupped my cheek. When I felt his lips flutter over mine, I opened my eyes and immediately raised my hands to his face, my thumbs caressing the porcelain skin below his eyes. I frowned when he bowed his head, and I slid a hand under his jaw and lifted his face back to mine. I whispered his name in the hopes he would open his eyes and look at me.

  When he finally did, I gazed affectionately at him. "Simon Treviso, you are absolutely beautiful."

  At my words, a small smile curled the corner of his lips. “Ti amo tanto, bella mia.”

  For the first since meeting the stunning vampire, I saw something I’d never seen in his eyes before: pride. Pride in himself, pride for what he truly was. It was mixed so clearly in the adoration and love which glowed in his bright eyes that now held just a hint more pink in their amethyst depths.

  I got drawn into th
ose eyes so wholly. Their hypnotic depths, combined with talented fingers lightly massaging my back and neck, pulled me toward a state of slumber, and I didn’t fight it

  I rubbed my eyes with my fists as I came to, unsure of how long we laid in the massive bed, tangled together on the covers, and after what seemed like an eternity, I moved so I could gaze up at his face. I chortled in wonder when I saw his eyes.

  "What is the matter, cara mia?" he asked, concern evident on his face and in his voice.

  "Your eyes looked a bit pinker before, but they’re back to normal now." I leaned in closer to look. "There’s still a tiny bit of pink left, but now they’re more orchid looking. When you finished drinking, they had a pretty strong pink hue color."

  He looked supremely unsurprised, which in turn mystified me even more. "I was quite certain the effects would not last long—not initially, anyway—given I did not take a significant amount of your blood. Plus, my body was able to quickly break down your blood due to your emotions and, to an extent, our connection."

  I was not quite sure what he meant, and if the amusement on his face was anything to go by, my confusion obviously showed.

  In a dizzying blur, he had me wrapped up in his arms beneath the covers before he went into what I now recognized as his lecture mode. "Fear and love are two of the strongest emotions known to almost all creatures, but they act in completely different ways.

  “Fear is an emotion that bears resistance, the urge to fight, to defend, whereas love, true love, is an emotion that bears only compassion and acceptance. Our bodies metabolize blood by both the physical components as well as the emotional ones—well, technically the hormones released by the body when effected by certain emotions rather than the emotions themselves. So the blood we drink affects the base color of our eyes, and varying emotions determine the intensity and how long that intensity lasts.”

  He stroked his hands down my arms before he rolled me over onto my back, gazing down at me with a look of admiration that practically stole my breath. "Emotions," he whispered as he licked the shell of my ear, "are what help, or in most cases hinder, the rate at which the blood is metabolized. Most humans, and indeed all creatures, are not like you and are not very keen on us draining their life force from them."

  "So fear makes it harder for your body to absorb blood," I repeated.

  I was intrigued and wanted to learn as much about my mate as possible, and considering I’d more than likely be changed into a succubus within a few years, it didn’t hurt to have a heads up. Curiosity beat out arousal, and I squirmed to look him in the eye. "So, let me see if I have this straight: positive emotions, or rather their hormones, allow for easier digestion as it were, and negative emotions make it more difficult?"

  "Yes.” He smiled and dropped his face so he could nuzzle his nose against my ear. "But honestly, I believe that is enough discussion on vampiric metabolic habits.” I attempted to protest, but lost when he nipped at my skin. “Cara, do you really wish to be bored with the tedious and wholly unexciting details? I could, in fact, go into great detail about the specific effects of dopamine, oxytocin and noradrenaline on human blood if you would like, but I thought this—" he slipped his fingers between my slick folds— “would be a far more interesting start to our morning.”

  If I hadn’t already begun to lose my focus, his blissful purr and cool mouth kissing its way down my neck to latch onto a familiar patch of skin would have obliterated all chances I may’ve had to keep my mind on any one topic entirely.

  I giggled. "If you keep doing that, I’m never going to not have a hickey." When he chuckled “I know”, I huffed. "Everyone is going to notice if I start wearing scarves every day of the year."

  Abruptly, our positions changed, and I was a little disturbed by the loss of his fingers.

  Bastard!

  He leaned against the headboard and sat with me between his strong thighs, his arms wrapped tightly around my own and my back pressed to his chest. He rested his chin on my head and sighed. "Do you truly believe the nature of our relationship will not be made known amongst the university’s students?”

  I groaned miserably. "I’m going to have to tell Mom soon, aren’t I?"

  "I would presume so… unless you prefer her to hear from local gossip?" He stroked my curls soothingly. “I do not doubt there are more members of your private school at the university than just your friend and Miss Kinley.”

  I shook my head. "No, there’s a few more, about seven or eight I know of, and of those, four of them live or work nearby our house. So… yeah. She’d find out eventually.”

  Pushing away the thoughts of my mother and the burdensome knowledge I’d soon have to tell her about my relationship, I stretched, enjoying the distinct sensation of the constricting and relaxing of my recently worked muscles. “Hey, out of curiosity, did I scream or anything while I was asleep?”

  His body swiftly tensed and his eyes darted to mine. Concern filled them and etched lines into the normally smooth planes of his face. “No, you did not, cara. Am I correct in assuming you had a nightmare?” A small smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach the eyes that were trained on me like a hawk. “That does not sound like a positive indicator for future encounters.”

  I laughed and scrambled onto my knees before straddling his lap and looping my arms around his neck. “You’re an incubus.” I pressed my hips firmly against him, rolling slightly on his lap. “I’m pretty sure my nightmares have nothing to do with your sexual prowess, so your ego should be safe. And besides, I’m not sure if it qualifies as a nightmare. I mean, it wasn’t like I was scared or anything in the dream. The only reason I asked if I was screaming or not is because I was on fire.”

  I felt every muscle of his body that hadn’t been tense before stiffen, and for a brief moment, I wondered if he had gone into the same shock May and Grace had told me about. The only thing that kept me from panicking was the random blinking of his eyes.

  “When you say you were on fire—” his voice was apprehensive, almost fearful— “do you mean you were simply trapped inside a house on fire? Or you were indeed caught on fire?”

  “I was on fire,” I answered solemnly. “I could smell the wood burning, the smoke. I could hear the pops and crackles, but I didn’t see a source. I couldn’t see anything. Everything was pitch-black, but honestly, I wasn’t as terrified as I probably should’ve been. I could feel the flames licking at the soles of my feet and dancing up my calves, but when I tried to escape the heat, I realized I couldn’t move. But even then, I didn’t panic.”

  He swallowed unnecessarily before speaking. “From what I have learned in my centuries, dreaming of fire is not the most common of themes when it comes to humans’ nocturnal visions. Indeed, the majority of human dreams seem to be made up of ordinary activities and behaviors, with the most vivid of dreams reflecting some unresolved issue they may be having in their waking life. For instance, I once heard of a case where a young lady dreamed of burying a woman in white alive while Death watched on. Later in the dream, the woman returned to life and proceeded to pursue the young lady. When all was fully analyzed, it seemed the dream was alluding to her struggle with her religious views. Perhaps dreaming of fire is your subconscious’ way of attempting to force you to work through some issue you have previously pushed aside.”

  By now, I had stopped grinding suggestively against my mate and was staring at the pale blue wall behind him, deep in thought.

  While I still missed my father, I’d long since worked through the suddenness of his death and my anger at his accountability, and even if I hadn’t, I couldn’t find any common thread between the incident and why I was apparently caught up in flames.

  I also knew, depending on which website or dictionary you looked at, fire and burning meant anything from passion and desire to purification and transformation. However, I was unsure as to whether or not those definitions applied to someone being burned alive or if they were just meanings of fire in general.

&nb
sp; I supposed it could have related to my unexpected reaction to Brie or my lashing out at Madison over Simon, but I honestly did not think either event had affected me that much. “Is there anything else it could be?” I finally asked, still unconvinced that it had anything to do with my behavior lately.

  “A memory or variation of one, perhaps?” he suggested hesitantly. “When your father had his accident, did his car catch fire?”

  “No, at least not from what they told us.”

  A memory.

  I wracked my brains for anything from my childhood that could in any way remotely be tied to dreaming of fire, and came up with nothing. I told the incubus as much, and almost felt the tension within him growing. “Oh well,” I said blithely, hoping my casual tone would calm him. “It’s probably nothing, or it could be something stupid I’ve forgotten about. Who knows? My mom probably burnt a birthday cake or something when I was a kid and sent me to school with it, and I got embarrassed.”

  “Indeed.”

  He sounded as sure of that as I was that it had anything to do with my recently personality changes, but before I could comment, he growled softly and his grip tightened around my waist. "Grace and the others are less than two miles away.” He groaned and buried his face in my neck. “Evidently, she can smell us, even though the others cannot yet.”

  It was a very surreal thing to me, hearing absolutely nothing, but knowing my mate could hear every single sound for over a mile. And had I not known better, I would’ve thought he was hallucinating hearing voices and was responding to his imaginations. Of course, even knowing the truth of the situation, it was still kind of weird.

  “She said they will remain on the porch until I am reacquainted with their presence. Once I am comfortable with their being so close, they will open the front door to allow more of their scent into the house then move into the kitchen and wait for us to come downstairs to them."

  “I don’t understand.”