Alpha Vampire Romance: Vampire’s Mate (Paranormal Shapeshifter Alpha Demon Vampire Romance) (Coming of Age Werewolf BBW Shifter Women’s Fiction Short Stories)

by Rebecca Abbott

  When he smiles, I can just make out the sharp points of his teeth.

  He leads me down a dimly lit hallway and into a sitting room. I settle onto the couch there and look up at him expectantly.

  “Damien should be here soon,” he says, still standing. “Would you like something to drink, in the meantime?”

  He says the word drink with a mischievous glint in his eye, and I shiver. But I accept his offer and he bustles off into the other room. A few minutes later he returns with two glasses in hand, and Damien following along behind.

  “I guess he was already here,” Christopher says with a smirk. “I found him lurking in the other room.”

  “Hello, Danielle," Damien says, nodding to me. I manage to squeak out a greeting in response, and my face goes red in embarrassment. We all sit in silence for a moment before I manage to scrounge up the courage to speak.

  “So, you are both vampires?” I ask.

  “Yes, we are,” Christopher responds, exchanging a glance with Damien in evident amusement. “I hear you’re interested in our world?”

  “Yes, very!” I exclaim, sitting up straighter in my seat and leaning forward eagerly. “I have so many questions. You’re supposed to be nothing but fiction, you know.”

  “Oh, we’re well aware,” Damien says. “It’s best that we stay beneath the radar, I’m sure you understand.”

  “Yes,” I say, nodding. “But you seem nothing like what the stories say. You don’t sleep all day, for one. And you can go out into the sunlight. And it looks like you drink more than just blood?” I gesture towards the glasses of wine they’re both nursing.

  “We’re quite like humans, more so than you’d expect,” Christopher says. “The only real difference I would say is the whole blood-drinking bit.”

  Damien nods in agreement. He then grins at me, flashing me his fangs, and I feel weak at the knees again.

  “I have a question,” Christopher says, breaking the silence that’s settled over us yet again. “Would you mind terribly, if I drank from you tonight as well?”

  I stare at him wordlessly for a moment, heart thrumming in my ears. I had only really been anticipating Damien drinking from me, but surely I’ll get the same effect from Christopher as well? He’s a handsome man, I have no objections to the idea of his lips against my neck.

  “Y-yes,” I stammer, feeling the blush return. “Of course.”

  “Wonderful.” Christopher grins at me. “I’ve heard how much you enjoy it. And you look positively delicious.”

  “Oh really?” I attempt to sound seductive and confident, but I fall flat. I’ve never had a problem conversing with men before, but these two put me to shame. I become a stammering, desperate mess in their presence.

  Christopher doesn’t waste any time. He rises from his seat and paces over to me, settling down next to me on the couch. He brings a hand up and draws my hair away from my neck, tucking it behind my ear and shoulder. He then bends his face down and brushes his lips across the skin of my neck.

  I let out a sigh of pleasure and lean into him, anticipation coursing through me. My eyes flutter shut as he moves his mouth against me, every so often letting his teeth graze my skin. At one point he bites down but doesn’t break the skin, and I gasp aloud. He chuckles.

  I open my eyes again to see Damien staring at us. He drinks us in, his eyes wide and dark. Moments later he gets up from his seat as well and paces over, unable to contain himself any longer. He sits on my other side and begins running his hands over my body rather than pressing his lips against me. I’m not sure I could handle it if they both ravished my neck at the same time.

  Finally, Christopher sinks his teeth into me. I let out a moan of ecstasy, which is smothered moments later by Damien pressing his lips against mine.

  Damien works his tongue into my mouth and I do the same with mine. With his hands he flips up my short skirt as I fumble with the button on his jeans. He rips aside my panties as I free him from his pants. He is already rock-hard with anticipation and wastes not a single moment. As Christopher feeds on me, Damien enters me all at once. I let out a moan at the size of him and pure ecstasy explodes in my mind as Damien thrusts into me. Christopher detaches his bite for the briefest of moments and rips my shirt off over my head. I reach my climax as Christopher runs his tongue up my neck and bites down. The orgasm is so explosive that both men have a hard time keeping me in one place as my body twists and contacts from the pleasure. Christopher’s hands cup my breasts and his thumbs work my nipples in circles. My hips buck into Damien and he lets out a grunt of his own. Christopher moves with me and continues to drink from.

  Damien leans over me and nips at the skin of my neck with his teeth. I shiver at the thought of both men drinking from me at the same time. It feels so good with one, but I’m not sure I can handle them both. Suddenly, my mind is made up. I want only one thing and that is for both to feed from me at the same time.

  I run my hands through Damien’s hair and pull him in close. I whisper into his ear. My lips so close that they brush against it with each syllable.

  “I want both of you.” My voice is throaty.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I plead for it by squeezing him with my thighs. “Yes, please.”

  Damien licks my neck and nips at it once more with his teeth in a playful manner as he thrusts into me again and again. Just as I am about to climax once more Damien sinks his teeth into me as well and my head nearly explodes with pleasure. My orgasm once more is like an explosion in my head. I buck and writhe around.

  The sensation of both men drinking from me is like nothing I have ever experienced. Just the sensation of both of them partaking of my blood is like every orgasm I have ever had rolled into one. Damien moves back to my side as Christopher’s hand moves down to my crotch and his fingers go to work.

  I moan and writhe underneath the two men, but suddenly something is different. I can’t seem to get my breath. No matter how hard I try. My breath comes in shallow, ragged gasps. I look up at the ceiling and realize that my vision is beginning to darken on the edges like I am in a tunnel. I raise my left hand to stroke Damien’s face as he feeds, but the arm is numb and won’t respond. I try with my other arm, but it is numb as well. My head gets hard to hold up. Weakness begins to spread throughout my body. Fear shoots up my spine as I realize that my vision is getting worse and I can’t feel my legs. Each thought seems to take an eternity to come to fruition. I am sweating profusely, but it is no longer the sweat of sex. This is a cold, clammy sweat. Even the pleasure seems to go away and I feel as if I am falling into an endlessly dark hole with no bottom rushing up to break my fall. The room starts to spin around me as the two men continue to drink from me.

  Everything stops suddenly. My skin is covered in a sheen of sweat. I can feel the heat of both of their bodies pressed against mine. Damien is trembling, Christopher’s breaths are coming in sharp gasps.

  Something is terribly wrong. Damien rips his mouth from my neck and pulls away from me, but Christopher is still drinking. The high is slowly disappearing, trickling out of my mind like a steady stream of water and clearing my senses.

  “Christopher!” Damien’s voice is urgent. And angry. He sounds alarmed, and I feel like I know why. But then my mind fogs over and the thought escapes my grasp. It feels as if my entire body is going limp. My head lolls to the side, bobbing about.

  Damien shakes Christopher before giving him a mighty shove. He falls sideways, his mouth detaching from my skin with a sharp smacking sound. He looks up at Damien angrily, eyes flashing.

  “What did you do that for?” he growls, before looking over at me. His face goes blank.

  “We took too much,” Damien spits, kneeling down before me. I can see his face and hear their words but it’s slipping through my mind like smoke, unable to contain. “She’s lost too much blood.”

  “Shit.” Christopher stands up, I feel the couch shift beside me.

  “We’re going to have to get s
ome fluids in her . . .”

  Everything is fading. The sounds around me, the images. My vision is darkening. And then everything disappears.

  *****

  “Ugh . . .”

  I groan. The light is too bright. I try to pull the blanket over my face to shield my eyes, but my arm feels too heavy. My entire body aches and so I lay there, completely still until I’ve summoned the energy.

  I finally am able to sit up. I groan and blink against the glaring light. I’m in a bedroom I’ve never been in before. It’s small, sparsely furnished with just a twin bed and a nightstand. The window beside my bed is covered in shades, though it still lets in a bit of light that is much too bright for me.

  Everything rushes back to me suddenly. Christopher and Damien. Coming to their house. Them drinking from me. Being . . . intimate. And then that strange sickness that overcame me. What did they say? “We took too much”?

  The door creaks open and I look over. Damien is peering into the room. He lets out a relieved sigh upon seeing me and enters the room.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks cautiously, settling himself down at the end of the bed.

  “I’ve been better,” I murmur, rubbing the heel of my hand against my eyes. “What happened?”

  Damien is silent for a moment. I glance over at him and see that he’s looking at me, grim-faced.

  “Well?” I say, prompting him.

  “You’ve been asleep for two days,” Damien says with a sigh. “We drank too much from you. You lost too much blood.”

  I stare at him. “Two days?” I stammer. “I’ve been asleep for two days? I’ve been missing work! Why didn’t you take me to the hospital?”

  “How would we have explained to them what happened?” Damien says in exasperation. “It was too risky to take you to the hospital. We know how to deal with this type of thing, we knew you’d be fine.”

  I’m shaking my head now, over and over again. “I could have died!”

  “No,” Damien protests. “We knew we could help you. We knew you’d be fine.”

  “Sorry if I don’t have a whole lot of faith in two men I’ve only just met,” I say, swinging my legs over the side of my bed. I ignore the aches running through my body and the wave of dizziness that hits me. “I need to leave.”

  “I don’t think you’re in the right state to drive,” Damien protests, standing up.

  “I’m fine. I just need to get adjusted.” I get to my feet and pause, shutting my eyes. But eventually the dizziness subsides and I can walk without feeling as if I’m going to fall over. I stride towards the door, brushing Damien off as he attempts to place a hand on my shoulder.

  “Can you show me out, please?” I say firmly, refusing to meet his gaze. After a moment’s hesitation he sighs heavily and escorts me out of the house.

  I drive away, clutching the steering wheel with trembling fingers.

  *****

  I avoid the clubs for the rest of the week. It’s not that difficult during the week, as I don’t typically go out on a work night anyways. My job is fine, apparently Damien and Christopher took it upon themselves to figure out where I worked and notify my boss that I was unexpectedly and severely ill from some sort of virus. They posed as my brothers. Good thing I’ve never spoken about my family to my coworkers, or that could’ve ended quite awkwardly. I don’t have any siblings.

  The more days that pass, the more depressed I get. My anxiety sinks back in, permeating my every thought and controlling my every move. I avoid people and keep myself away from the clubs, trying to go to bed as early as possible so as not to give into temptation as the night moves forward. But eventually, nearly two weeks after the frightening incident with Damien and Christopher, I find myself sitting up in my bed at 10 P.M., staring at the clock.

  I need to go back. I need to get back into the clubs, and part of me wants to find them again. If only to truly confront them on what happened that fateful night.

  I drag myself from my bed and get to work making myself presentable. I do my hair and makeup, pick out the sexiest outfit I can find, and admire myself in the mirror once I’m done. I look a little ruffled and sleepy-eyed, but overall I’m great.

  At first, I’m hesitant to head back to the club Damien frequents. But then I shake my head in determination and drive straight there. Once inside I dance and drink like I used to, letting the alcohol wash over me and take away my feelings. Before long I’m in that familiar haze, and I scan the crowd around me with a lopsided grin on my face.

  But I don’t find him. Not for the entire night. I don’t see Christopher either, though I don’t remember ever seeing him here before. By the end of the night I’m disappointed and morose, though the alcohol does its best to take the edge off.

  I go back every night for the next three evenings. I don’t care about working the next morning, I drag myself out of bed regardless of how much sleep I got and drown my tiredness in coffee. Finally, however, I know I need a break. So instead of heading to the club the next night, I go to Damien’s house.

  I park in front of the house and sit there, my hands shaky. This feels bold, more bold than I’m used to. More bold than showing up at Damien’s office unannounced. This is their home, the home I fled from in anger over two weeks ago.

  Finally, I step out of my car. I strut up to the front door and raise my hand to knock, but the door swings open before my knuckles can make contact with its surface.

  Christopher stands there, staring at me with a raised brow. He steps aside after a moment and I tentatively step inside.

  “Fancy seeing you here,” he says quietly, flipping on the hallway light as he closes the door so we’re not trapped in darkness. Visions of our intimacy and the bites he placed on my skin bring a hot flush to my cheeks.

  “I need to speak to you and Damien,” I say shortly, averting my eyes and looking down the hallway in search of Damien’s familiar form. “Please.”

  “Follow me,” Christopher says with a shrug, making his way down the hallway and back to the sitting room I was last in with them. I settle onto the couch it hesitantly while Christopher goes and fetches Damien.

  Finally they are both sitting before me, but suddenly I cannot find my words. I bite my lip and play with the sleeves of my shirt, looking up at them hesitantly.

  Damien’s eyes are trained on my lip, watching how my tooth captures the soft pink flesh. But then as soon as I look at him his eyes dart back up to my own. There’s something dark and wanting in his eyes which I try to ignore.

  “Why did that happen?” I say finally, my voice coming out smaller than I would like. I clear my throat. “At the club you stopped drinking from me well before I was in any danger.” I look pointedly at Damien. “Why didn’t you do that again? Either of you.”

  Damien and Christopher exchange a look, and then Damien sighs deeply. “Sometimes we get carried away, especially when involved in this sort of situation.” He gestures out with his hands towards myself and Christopher. “We both got carried away in the moment. It won’t happen again.”

  I think about his words. They haven’t completely comforted me. “If I were to . . . become one of you, could that happen again?”

  “Yes,” Christopher says seriously. “We are still at danger of running out of blood. Blood still runs through our veins and we still rely on it, we’re much like yourself in that respect. But it’s more difficult for us to get to that dangerous threshold. It’s safer, if you’re one of us. And you bounce back much quicker. Plus, you could probably stop us yourselves at that point.”

  I think about his words, rolling them over and over again in my mind. I’m frightened, I can’t deny it. I’m frightened of what happened, I don’t want it to happen again. But the longer I go without one of their bites, the more it haunts me. I need it again. I need the experience. And I’m willing to go to great lengths to get it.

  “I want to become one of you.”

  My words hang in the air. Damien and Christopher both stare at me
with dark and searching eyes, before exchanging a look with one another. Then Christopher cracks a smile.

  “I think she’s ready, Damien,” he says slowly. “You had your doubts. Mine are all gone, personally.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Damien says with a nod. “The fact that you’re so willing for this even after that traumatizing experience, and after taking a few weeks to think about it . . . I’m willing to do it.”

  “How do you do it?” I ask breathlessly. My heart is thumping wildly in my chest. I can’t believe they actually agreed. It was more than I could hope for.

  “It’s simple, really,” Damien explains. “We drink from you until you are near out of blood. And then we allow you to drink from us. It’s a little messy at first, as your teeth won’t be fully formed. But you’ll get the hang of it.”

  They’ll drink from me. Yes. I feel a grin spreading across my face involuntarily.

  “I’m ready,” I say, my voice hardly louder than a whisper.

  Damien gets up suddenly, moving towards me. He sits down beside me and rests a hand on my thigh, sliding his fingers down until they are between wedged between my legs before giving me a squeeze. I gasp and he grins, before drawing aside my hair and baring his teeth against my neck.

  I see Christopher approaching out of the corner of my eye. I feel his fingertips on my shoulder, sliding down my back until he reaches the hem of my shirt. He tugs it upwards, causing Damien to pause in his ravishing of my neck as my shirt goes over my head. I reach towards Christopher, fumbling on the button of his pants but eventually managing to get it. He growls deep in his throat before grabbing my chin and wrenching my face towards his, capturing my mouth in a kiss.

  Damien sinks his teeth into my skin and I gasp against Christopher’s mouth as his tongue probes into mine. I lightly bite at his tongue and he lets out a growl.