by L. T. Kelly
I leaned back against the door jamb of my bathroom and traced my fingertips over my collarbone and down my chest, across the stiff pink buds, all the time imagining they were Marc’s fingers instead of my own, his golden skin a stark contrast to my own.
His perfume lingered in my nostrils, making the fantasy easier for me. I folded my hand around my breast, cupping the smooth pale skin and let my palm continue down to my belly stopping when I reached the curly hair poking out of my open jeans.
Undoubtedly, I had to do something about the pent up sexual tension whirring through my body.
I stepped across the ivory coloured tiles in my bathroom and leaned over the large oval bath to turn on the taps. I closed the door, wanting the room to fill with steam so I would experience a physical mist in addition to the mist collected within my thoughts.
My eyes glowed with such brightness I couldn’t help but catch sight of them in the mirror, the rest of my face might hardly be noticed.
‘What’s happening to me?’ I thought while gasping at the sensation of pulling the rough denim down my legs. I dropped the shirt on the floor, close enough for me continue enjoying Marc’s scent from the tub.
I stepped into the clear water without taking the time to check the temperature. I’m unaffected by different temperatures. Not from air or water. I can feel them but they don’t bother me. I run cold all of the time, so my body can preserve the blood I drink for optimal operation, not heating.
After turning off the taps I laid back, the water lapped over my body. The swishing sensation electrified all of my nerve endings.
I closed my eyes again, finding doing so helped with the visualisation. I fantasised about him being here in the bathroom, watching me with his lip curled into a half smile. I audibly gulped at the sight of his body, the image of his nakedness in my minds eye.
His legs appeared powerful, thick and defined with muscle and dusted with dark hair—how sweet it would be to have those legs entwined with my own.
The definition of his stomach muscles made me want to lick the ridges, up to his pectorals sitting square and subtle on his broad chest. His nipples the beautiful colour of rich coffee beans. I ran my tongue over my lips imagining how the buds would taste in my mouth—how his body would respond—turned on from knowing my touch made him swell with the same desire I was experiencing.
I shuddered as I put my head under the hot water, allowing my hair to billow around me. I wanted the sensation of being touched. I wanted to be enveloped entirely. Water was the only thing available to me, the single thing offering the ability touch every part of me simultaneously.
I pinpointed the pressure of the water over my breasts, curling over their roundness and wetting my nipples. I automatically arched my back imagining the water was his chest and my erect buds brushed over his smooth skin, making them harder still at the thought.
On the ascent the water whooshed up between my legs putting pressure on the sensitive skin at my apex. I cried out a little and my palm flew to cup the throbbing area in surprise.
Reaching down to the crook of my knee I traced my fingertips up the inside of my thigh, experimenting with the sensation.
The image of the excited man in my bathroom urged me to continue, his parted lips begged me to join him in touching what needed to be touched for the release I craved.
I brushed over the throbbing flesh hidden between the thick curls and circled the area around my sex until I ached for more.
Unable to resist any longer, I ran my fingers from my opening up through the swollen folds gasping at the orgasmic tingling sensation affecting every nerve ending. My fingers flew hungrily back down to the entrance, and as I raised my hips out of the water I plunged them deep inside, caressing the slick wetness lying within.
Marc remained in the bathroom with me in the fantasy racing around my mind. Only now he watched me more intently, his eyes admiring my naked body and the way I touched myself.
The dim vanity light picked up the sheen on his tanned skin caused by the steam clouding the room; little drips trailed their way down his broad shoulders and over his thick arms down to his finger tips, burning to touch me, to take away my frustration while taking care of his own.
The pace of my fingers quickened, the friction against my dark pink flesh forcing automatic groans that didn’t even sound like they came from my throat.
Every single muscle in my body started to tense, building up with delicious pleasure, the blood from my earlier feed pumping furiously through my heart, pounding in my ears.
My breathing became erratic, every breath I took seemed to catch in my throat. My fingers pinpointed the source of the amazing sensation, so I concentrated on the nub, pressing harder and brushing my fingers over the spot, quickening my pace with every stroke and sensing my core build until I couldn’t hold back any longer.
I held my breath as the orgasm ripped through me. The sensation continued shivering though me. My lips parted allowing a strangled moan to escape them.
My mind went blank, pushing everything away apart from the pleasure I experienced under Marc’s watchful gaze.
As the orgasm petered out I let go of my limbs, unable to carry the weight of them any longer. My torso slumped back and slid down until my face was beneath the water.
I’d never touched myself before, never knew the need. In my human life I’d been taught masturbation was immoral. My sexual experiences had been traumatic to say the least.
Maybe it was Thomas’ fault that I’d lived my life as an asexual? He’d always treated me like a child, so maybe I’d just taken his lead and behaved as such?
My whole body relaxed, enjoying the afterglow as I lifted my head out of the water and rested back against the porcelain. My heartbeat slowed right down, only beating occasionally now. I’d be a little slower and my senses would suffer a slight impairment until the next feed.
A feed usually lasts me at least a few days but I had exhausted the blood I had taken tonight in a few short hours. I’d need to feed again as soon as the sun went down the coming evening. The blood had been used up through all the excitement of my pounding heart. A feed could only pump through my heart a few times before being soaked up by my organs.
I sat up lifting my head out of the water and pressed my back against the porcelain. I felt tired but lacked the drive to climb out of the water and go to bed.
Without any warning the bathroom door slammed open. Chunks of plaster spat out over the tiled floor, the door handle embedded into the wall. Water spilled out of the bath as I thrashed around in the tub trying to grip the slippery surface.
Thomas filled the doorway—he’s not a tall man, only around five foot nine, but his aura filled the space. His feet planted wide apart and his hands formed powerful fists. His eyes so wide, the whites were visible all the way around his dark denim irises.
In a flash he grabbed my flailing arms, wrenching me out of the tub. My jaw hung slack as he smashed my back into the sink. A sickening crunch of my spine snapping against the solid surface echoed around the room. The splinters of porcelain rattled and smashed over the slippery floor.
I rebounded onto the hard, cold tiles, unable to move and surrounded by pieces of what once formed my sink. My mouth all of a sudden tasted coppery and my head spun.
“Thomas,” I breathed his name. Drops of water rolled off my skin and had started to form a puddle around me.
Shock pulsed through my mind. I couldn’t begin to imagine why he would do such a thing to me. I wanted to scream and shout but the healing would take time because my body was running so low on human blood. I struggled to turn my head to look at him.
“Teagan, I’m, I’m so sorry. I thought—I don’t know what I thought. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I smelled something, something very different. I thought someone had broken in.” He slumped against the doorframe, attempting to steady his shaking limbs. His usual pale hue appeared deathly, almost blue. His gaze was cast down, scrutinising a patch of the bathroom floor
as his spindly fingers pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Ok, Thomas, we can talk about this later. Do you mind covering me with a towel or something?” I kept my voice even and low, not wishing to cause another mystery outburst. I realised I was defenceless against him right then and experiences from my human life had taught me it was best to remain calm and not attempt retaliation. I would have to deal with what had happened another time.
“Or perhaps you could move me to the bed? I’m sort of unable to move at the moment.”
“Oh, oh right. Yes, certainly.” He left the bathroom. His usually perfect posture looked slumped as he returned with the bedspread, his mouth downturned. He hurried to cover me up and then scooped me up off the floor. At least I had no need to worry about lasting damage.
“You didn’t feed?” Thomas kept his face forward, unable to meet my eyes, his brows knitted. He was confused about why I hadn’t healed yet.
“Yes, I fed,” I snapped as he placed me on the bed. Pain shot through me but I refused to show him the agony he’d caused. I’d be mended soon enough. I just had to get through the day.
“Oh, well, why—” he rubbed his chin and shook his head as if suddenly unsure he wanted the answer to how I’d exhausted the blood so quickly.
I laughed a mad maniacal laugh. “You’re asking me why?” I raised my eyebrow.
“Whom did you feed from?” he demanded through gritted teeth, resting on the bed beside me.
“I’m not sure why you’re questioning me. Shouldn’t I be interrogating you, Thomas?” I hissed as he bit into his wrist and offered me the blood that seeped out. I shook my head. I wasn’t going to allow him to use a ‘get out of jail free card’. “It’s been many years since I took a beating. You’re the last person I expected to dole out that kind of treatment again,” I continued in a softer voice edged with disappointment. He winced and I felt an odd satisfaction at seeing that.
“Did the feed have an odd aroma?”
“No, why?”
“Where’d you go?”
“I fed in the park, as you suggested. Then I went for a drink in a bar.” I bit my lip as I realised he’d picked up Marc’s scent. The meaning, I had yet to discover. It had seemed strange how a human had engaged such powerful emotions in me. He definitely wasn’t a vampire. The sun had kissed his skin. In fact, he reeked of sunshine. Then what was he? As far as I knew, there were vampires and humans. That’s all, nothing else.
“Did you catch a whiff anything different, Teagan? It’s important.” His head was bowed, looking up at me through his eyelids, lips pursed. I shook my thoughts away. I’d surely know if others existed.
“Yes, I did. I thought it was just new blood.” I told the truth, but I knew this had to have more meaning.
“You didn’t find the source?”
“No, Thomas.” I waved my hand around suffering tightness in my chest. “I’m tired, I have to sleep, to heal.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
He sighed as he stood up.
“I want you to think carefully about why you attacked me. I need an explanation. Did you do this based on a scent? What is it you can smell? I need to know.” My voice tailed off into a whisper.
I knew he’d heard me as he closed my bedroom door, because I heard him let out a heavy sigh. I only wished I had the energy to stay awake to question him further.
I tested out my healing rate, successfully rolling over before falling into an unpreventable sleep.
CHAPTER FOUR
I straightened my spine out, pushing the small of my back into the mattress. Pursing my lips I blew out hard with relief. No pain or audible crunch from the movement indicated that my spine had fully healed.
Behind the crimson velvet drapes in my room lay the thick oak shutters. They were pressed firmly against the windows and were painted black to match the red and black theme of my bedroom.
My mind screamed that beyond those shutters lay sunlight, while my body protested that it needed blood.
I checked the clock beside the bed. It wouldn’t be long before the fireball in the sky would disappear from sight to be replaced by the moon.
Hoisting myself up to a half sitting position, I leaned on my elbows blinking rapidly in the darkness. My vision was diminished and not much better than a human’s sight. I slipped away from the comfortable bed and flicked the light on. My limbs shook with weakness making my motions slow and less coordinated as I headed towards the windowless bathroom to the right of my bed.
The aftermath of the previous night’s events remained scattered across the tiles, a mixture of the plaster from the wall behind the door and the porcelain that was once my sink. I winced and closed my eyes pointlessly hoping that when I opened them it would all be gone. A rage hit me when my eyelids flickered open, my long delicate fingers curled into my palms to form fists. I shook my head, trying to dismiss my anger. What was done was done. There wasn’t anything I could do to change it now.
‘Ok, forget the bathroom.’ I thought taking a deep breath while leaning over to grab my makeup bag and escaping the carnage.
I shuffled around the room in a daze. ‘Why did Thomas do that to me? After all of these years together?' After everything he witnessed happening to me in my human life. Why?’ The confusion swam around and around my brain, all questions and no solid answers.
Thomas had never so much as raised a hand to me. He had been overbearing and protective, but never violent. Even when he nagged me I realised he did it for my own benefit most of the time, or at least out of genuine concern for my welfare. What he’d done was completely out of character.
I inspected my appearance in the full-length mirror next to the dressing table in the corner of my bedroom. I was hungry, but I figured I had a bit of time to prepare for my meeting with Marc. The sun was only just setting, so it was impossible for me to go anywhere yet anyway.
The thought of him, the flavour of his name in my mouth caused a jolt low in my belly. Unconsciously, I ran my fingers over my face and lips, closing my eyes, imagining kissing him, running my tongue along the rough spattering of stubble on his jaw then down to his neck, piercing his tanned skin just below his jawline with my teeth.
Shit!
My eyes snapped open. I blinked away the vision and began to get ready.
The thick cream linen dress was tailored to me. I’d had it specially made. The top of the dress hugged my upper body ensuring my assets were evident. The neckline was cut straight across my collar bones leading to the wide straps covering my shoulders and plunged into a deep v down my back, stopping when it reached the point on my back where my hips were level. The skirt was full and stopped at my knees, forming a perfect circle when laid out on the floor. I smiled with my scarlet painted lips as I swished the dress around. I’d also applied a little black liner around my eyes to create thirties style make-up. Bronzer was brushed over all the visible areas and helped take the death-like paleness out of my skin.
I looked awesome, no doubt in my mind.
Hurrying myself, I slipped into red heels and grabbed a matching clutch bag stuffing the bronzer, brush, lipstick and my credit card inside.
The sun would be fully down by now so I opened my bedroom door exercising as much caution as I could. I attempted to listen out for any movement in the house; the daytime staff had long gone.
Unsure of whether my hearing had diminished as much as my eyesight, I knew I had to creep out. The last thing I wanted to do was bump into Thomas on the way out. The way I was dressed alone would be the cause of many questions. Questions I wasn’t prepared to answer.
I tiptoed down the three flights of stairs holding my breath, every muscle stiff with fear. After successfully arriving on the ground floor I took large steps to get to the front door. I let out a huge sigh as I opened it, stepping out into the night air and pulling the door quietly closed behind me.
My heels clicked on the sidewalk for a few metres before finding an alley dark enough to conceal me. I shivered when I recalled that
Thomas had always taught me never to feed close to home.
“It’s impolite to feed on the neighbours,” he’d lectured.
Apparently.
Necessity had won over this night, though. I needed to feed. Desperately.
A female stepped into the alleyway. I opened my bag and started to feign looking for something.
I glanced up as she passed me. Early twenties, a no go as she may need the strength to care for children when she got home. I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t do that. The blood loss would make her lethargic, and she’d need a few days to recover.
Childishly, I stamped my foot watching my meal disappear from the end of the alley, chiding myself for my silly rule in a moment of sheer desperation.
My head snapped to attention. I pressed my body against the orange brick wall and held my breath. More footsteps clattered in my direction.
He emerged at the edge of the opposite wall, turning into the alley, floppy blond hair and good-looking in a boyish way. He wore stylish jeans and a logoed sweater and had his hands planted deep in his pockets. He must have been around his late teens, eighteen or nineteen maybe.
I emptied the contents of my purse on to the concrete and squatted to pick them up, he darted over to assist me in picking the stuff up. ‘Aahh, lucky for me, chivalry is not dead.’ The thought made me smile when raising my head to meet his cool blue eyes, allowing my fangs to extend.
My prey inhaled sharply, his eyes wide. My smile grew as I clasped my fingers around his throat and dragged him up against the rough bricks. I held him still with my body pressed parallel against his, my mouth searched for his rosy lips. My teeth drove into his bottom lip muffling his cry before the venom calmed him.
