by L. T. Kelly
I glanced back to Marc and saw that his eyes glowed more golden than I’d ever seen before.
“What are you?” I grew tired of hearing myself repeat the question but it just kept coming out of my lips.
“What are you, Teagan?” He threw the question right back at me. I peered around his body to look in the mirror above the sink seeing my own eyes exhibiting the same vibrancy as his, like large twinkling amethysts set in my face. I became breathless at the sight of them, my mouth hung open.
He pulled me back against him and reached for the zip at the small of my back. I reached up and ran my hands over his solid biceps, greedily enjoying the contours of muscle.
He tugged at the cloth shrouding my shoulder. My white skin shone harshly against his dark skin. Marc gasped as my ample breasts were revealed. Immediately reaching for them, they looked full and round in his hands, he rubbed his thumbs over my pink nipples. My parted lips let go a moan as I arched my back.
He slid his hands down to my waist and yanked the skirt resting on my hips downwards. It fell and billowed around my ankles. He stepped back inspecting me and ran a hand over his face.
I felt exposed due to his hungry gaze, wincing a little at the fact I’d had no time to prepare for this moment. I knew we were going to go to bed with each other. That was inevitable. But, I couldn’t help but wish the moment had been more intentional.
“You’re beautiful, Teagan,” he said breathily, his eyes wide, drinking every inch of me in.
“Really?” My voice sounded small and unsure.
He leant into the cubicle and turned the water on. It poured out of the rainforest showerhead. I stood frozen to the spot trying to gauge my emotions, the waves of unadulterated lust flooding through me. My hands shook, my mouth went arid. I was actually terrified.
He stepped back, cupped my chin and kissed my lips softly before moving his hands to the top of my panties and sliding them down my legs. I kicked them away as he removed his boxer briefs.
The mass of coarse curly hair lying between my legs had me wondering whether he’d still like me when he saw it. I remember a vampire I’d met years ago complaining about her daily shaving regime due to modern men’s ‘shaven haven’ preferences. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me until that moment, the moment where I was naked in front of this breathtaking specimen of a man.
As if he’d read my thoughts, his gaze fell on my pubic bone. “You’re beautiful, all-natural.”
His golden eyes returned to my mine as he laid his body against mine pressing me against the cool tiles, his lips pouted and ready to meet my kiss. “You are the definition of a natural beauty, Teagan. You’re mine. I don’t want to spend a moment with anyone that isn’t you. You had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
I shuddered with pleasure as I rested my cheek on the muscular mound of his chest. His words resonated through me pulsating on my tender spot. They could have almost come from my own mouth. He had me before “Hello”, too.
Marc quirked a smile at the corner of his mouth before beckoning me to enter the cubicle with him. I smiled back and followed him in, my heart pounding through my chest as I pushed my breasts against him. The water cascaded down our bodies. My hair clung to my back with the warm wetness. He kissed my lips hard, showing me his urgency with his mouth.
He took his lips away making mine feel lost and empty. He reached for the soap then lathered it up in his hands before stroking the bubbles down my body, the friction of each stroke and caress driving me a little more towards the edge. Droplets of water spattered across his defined cheekbones and sculpted lips, wetting them for me.
His touch urged my body to respond, the scent of the soap—tea tree and mint—heightened my arousal.
His handed rested over my mass of curls as his eyes melted in mine searching for my permission. I rocked my hips forward so that the pads of his soapy fingers rested on my mound. We moaned with pleasure and longing at that first intimate touch.
He ran a single finger through my cleft causing my hands to fly to the dripping tiles, my fingers splayed out over them to support me. It was almost as if I could feel every line of his fingerprint stroking sensually through my folds. My head lolled back exposing my aching throat. He removed his finger from my cleft and snaked his arms around my waist, smattering kisses over my neck, stilling me in his sweet embrace. Reaching up with one hand he grabbed more soap and poured it into the other, his eyes never leaving mine, seemingly probing them for approval.
He reached out for the tips of my hair, drenched and stuck to my back, working the soap through the lengths of it. How could such a simple act be so erotic? It felt as though he washed my fears away with each rake of his loving fingers through my locks. His hands caressed my scalp, making me itch with desire, making me want his body pressed to mine once again. I needed it so desperately.
He wrapped his arms around me, and seeming satisfied that my hair was finally clean, he guided my back under the water to wash the soap away. I gazed up at him with admiration. His teeth were clenched making the muscles in his jaw stand out. I dropped my head back and stood on tip-toes to kiss away the beads of water that formed on his lips.
As though he could no longer suffer the torment, he turned the water off. His face was etched with desire and his eyes blazed like a raging inferno within him as he took my hand and guided me into the bedroom towards the bed, our bodies still dripping with water, my hair a heavy cloak fanning out at my back.
His fingers splayed out over my shoulders as the strength of his body pushed me back onto the white sheet. My feet were still flat on the wooden floor. Marc knelt down in front of me in between my legs. My breath caught in my throat from feeling so exposed. He caressed my knees with his fingertips and began to run his tongue along my inner thigh. I arched my back in a silent yearning for him to reach the sweet spot at the centre. I moaned loudly when he got there, lapping up my juices for a moment before standing and leaning until he hovered over me with one hand pushed into the mattress beside my head. He scooped me up with his free arm and dragged me into the centre of the bed. The tip of his manhood rested at my entrance. I pushed my hips up begging for more of him inside me but he drew back just keeping the head-tip inside.
“Do. You. Really. Want. This,” he said, his words spread out. I gasped at the gravity of what he was trying to say, as though he wasn’t asking me if I wanted sex. He was asking me if I wanted him.
“Please, give it to me,” my words whined out, strangled and thick with desire. Nothing else seemed to matter, who he was and even who I was. I fought back against the words, ‘I love you’, swallowing them down whole. I knew it was too soon but the emotion shot through me until the words found their way to my mouth. They remained unspoken.
He pushed in a little further as my breathing became erratic. “Oh, God,” gurgled from my chest as I crashed furiously against him taking him further inside me, stretching my channel to make him a perfect fit for me.
The sensation of fullness and desire flooded me as I brought my hips to meet his with every pump, driving my nails into his firm buttocks not wanting the feeling to end, yet begging for the relief to sweep over me at the same time.
My muscles began to contract and tense. Marc’s pace quickened, our breathing mirrored each other’s—heavy, ragged, desperate. The aroma of him overwhelmed me. Sweet, hot and musty droplets sprinkled onto my naked breasts in the form of manly sweat.
My fangs extended against my will. I couldn’t prevent them any longer. Nor could I stop myself from pulling Marc closer to me, to get the right angle. The animal inside me had taken over. I drove my sharp teeth into the space just above his erect nipple as I exploded around him.
My vision clouded. The earth seemed to shift. My mind appeared to be lost to anything apart from the pleasure pulsing through me. My core spasmed around his manhood buried within me, causing a throaty groan to escape him, in an unspoken warning that the tightness of my own pleasure was about to send him over the e
dge, too.
His rich, thick blood hit the roof of my mouth as he came deep inside me. I envisioned flying between a colourful fireworks display. His liquid cascaded down my throat flooding me with a serene ambience, the sensation of the warmth of the sun on my face. He tasted as good as he smelled—fruity, warm and wholesome.
There was no way the images flashing in front of my closed eyelids were caused by my orgasm alone.
It was his blood.
I couldn’t stop suckling at the entry points, lapping at the blood and drawing more out into my mouth, each drop I swallowed I needed more. The thirst consumed me as I continued to drink from him.
Marc seemed to realise I was biting as he come down off the high of his climax. Something somewhere in my brain willed me to stop but I couldn’t.
He flashed across the room until he was pressed against the section of wall next to the door; his escape seemed inhumanly fast, he moved almost as quickly as I could.
His breath rasped, making his chest rise and fall erratically. It glistened with a sweaty sheen and streaks of crimson liquid streamed lazily down from the entry points I’d made with my fangs. His glowing eyes bulged at me. I turned away from his scrutiny as shame washed over me. How had I failed to contain myself?
For a few moments we remained at opposite ends of the room, just looking at each other. My body shook as well as my voice.
“I’m—I’m—so sorry.” I hung my head.
“You’re—you’re a vampire?” he asked, his eyes now full of question, his brow furrowed. “How could you have kept that from me? I didn’t—I didn’t even know they were real,” he stuttered, looking to the ceiling as if all the answers would be provided there. He slumped against the wall at his back.
“Humans forget I bit them. You haven’t. That means you’re not human, either.” I kept my voice level and strong, trying to prove my point. I hadn’t freely admitted what I was but he hadn’t been forthcoming either. I shouldn’t be ashamed about what I had done. My instinct was to bite and drink blood. That is what nature had made me into.
A pattern formed as we glanced at each other before looking away again. I wished I could tell what he was thinking.
Marc cocked his head after a few minutes of awkward silence. “Can you go out in sunlight?”
“No, and it will be up in the next ten minutes.” My voice lowered with gloom. I was totally fucked.
“Teagan, I—“ He squeezed his eyes closed and rubbed his huge hands over his face. “I can’t even believe this is happening. I can’t believe vampires are real. Fuck!” He shook his head as his hands dropped away from his face.
He peered back over with his wide eyes and his jaw slack. I noticed he’d started to quiver. Maybe he was scared? The thought that he may actually fear me coated me with lead. My limbs gave the impression of becoming heavy with the burden that I may never experience what I just had with him ever again.
“I won’t hurt you,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to—“
I stopped talking as he walked timidly towards me and offered me his hand, the shaking now stilled. I placed my palm on his, still getting the sting of electricity from his touch. He pulled me up and slung his arm around my shoulders to hold me close as he guided me into the hallway.
He kissed the top of my head as we stepped into a room at the end of the corridor.
“I nearly didn’t buy this place because of this room. As you can tell from upstairs and my room, I like light.” He chuckled.
My eyes scanned the room and fell on a tiny square window resting in the corner. He took his arm from around me and walked over to the thick hand-crafted oak wardrobe next to the window and lifted it as though it were as light as glass of wine.
There was no chance of him being human. Everything so far had proved the theory to be right. So what was he? He still hadn’t told me. He placed it securely over the window, checking around the back to make sure the wood lay flat against the wall and blocked the window completely.
My eyes flickered to the double bed, fighting to stay open. I’d never been awake so close to sunrise.
He pulled back the plum bedspread and gestured for me to get in. I lay down immediately. Relief washed over me as he crawled in beside me and placed his arm around me, his fingers splayed over my naked abdomen.
“You’re really not bothered that I’m a vampire?” My speech slurred with exhaustion.
“You haven’t seen what I am yet,” was the last thing I heard before falling to sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I sniffed the air, a lazy smile spread over my lips. I kept my eyes closed. The aroma of freshly cut grass on a warm summer day curled around my nostrils deliciously. Marc’s scent.
My eyes flickered open to inspect the sparse room. Unlike the rest of the house, the white washed walls held no artwork. The only pieces of furniture in the room were the solid oak wardrobe moved from the usual place to block out the sunlight and the bed I lay on. The room seemed forgotten in comparison to the rest of the house.
The scent radiated from the sheets and I’d only realised that when I hadn’t sensed the heat from Marc’s body.
I lay still for a while mulling over the events from the night before, and my sex lurched at the recollection of making love.
Being captured and drugged by Thomas and Victoria had seemed like years ago.
I stroked my throat with my fingertips recalling the taste of Marc’s blood, or rather the effect. The taste was slightly different, heavy and juicier, like the fattest most succulent peach you’d just picked off the tree. The hallucination as well as my inability to stop had confused me. I shook my head and put it down to the explosive orgasm I’d experienced at the time of the feed. Maybe that’s what happened? It had been the first orgasm I’d had with another person in decades, so it was entirely possible.
I jumped out of bed with a newly found energy, an energy and sense of purpose I never remembered possessing before. I stepped into the hallway, stilling to listen out for Marc’s heartbeat and gentle breathing entwined with a Coldplay track playing in the background upstairs. I put full power on my speed and stood beside him in a split second.
He jumped back away from the bubbling pan on the stove. “Shit!”
“Boo,” I whispered a little too late. Although I knew he was something more than human, I was still surprised at his quick reaction.
“Bloody hell, Teagan. You scared the shit outta’ me,” he said chuckling and placing his palm over his pounding heart.
I giggled. “Sorry.”
“No you’re not.” His smile grew as he walked towards me and pulled me into his arms. I placed my face against the cool cotton of his black t-shirt. He ran his fingers down my back gasping at the realisation I was still completely naked.
“Sorry,” I said again, then rolled my eyes at the repetition of my apologies. “I don’t have any clothes.” I giggled again, rather pleased at the effect my nakedness had on him, as evidenced by his stiffness pressed against me. My favourite dress lay soaked with blood. I could never hope to get the stains out of the pale fabric.
“Well, this is your lucky day, Miss—” he screwed his face up and cocked his head when he appeared to realise he didn’t have a clue what my surname was.
My laughter echoed around the curved ceiling of the room.
A crackling and sizzling noise filled the air as Marc stepped closer to the stove and took the pot, now over spilling with boiling water away from the electric blue flame.
“Well?” he asked, his face smooth again.
“My name is Lewis.” I’d used Thomas’ surname since he’d turned me. Now wasn’t the time to explain much more.
“I’m such a man-whore. Sleeping with a woman without knowing her name,” he said in mock horror before slapping his palm to his forehead as his throat rumbled with laughter.
“As I was saying, Miss Lewis, I’ve been out and got you some things.”
My body tensed and I attempted to produce a smile. I didn�
�t want to come across as ungrateful but I couldn’t stand the idea of a man choosing what I wear. I wasn’t used to this. Thomas had spent many years being over-protective, but I always chose what I wore. He never bought me a stitch of clothing out of respect for my individuality.
I walked towards the paper bags he’d indicated with his hand with my lips pursed with disdain.
I recognised the buzzing of a cell-phone on vibrate as I got closer, hesitating as if a venomous snake would spring forth and grasp my throat, right out of the shopping bags.
“Hello.” He’d answered the call. I peered into the first bag and pulled out the contents. A smile spread across my lips and I glanced over at him, his face screwed up as he glared at the wall.
I turned my attention back to the bags. He’d brought me a pair of jeans and a green silk shirt, near enough an exact replica of what I’d been wearing the first night I’d met him. He hadn’t chosen for me, he’d copied me.
Marc started shouting in Italian into the cell’s mic.
The other bag looked bulky. Having gotten over my initial sulk, I was intrigued at what else I could need. I peered in at a pile of black leather and pulled it out—a black leather jacket that looked fitted, the arms curved into a shape instead of hanging straight. The smell of it filled the air. I turned the thick grainy leather over to inspect the back. ‘Harley’ in swirly writing was emblazoned across the leather. I furrowed my brow and glanced back at him, he shrugged his shoulders, moved the phone from his ear and placed a hand over the microphone. I could make out the voice on the line babbling loudly in Italian through the speaker.
“All will be explained. How quick can you be ready?” he said to me in a strangled voice.
“Five minutes,” I said, recognising his desperation. I gathered up the stuff and headed downstairs to the bathroom without checking out the rest of contents.
The shower seemed desperately lonely after the previous night. As I cleaned up, I wondered who’d made Marc so angry and why he’d been in such a hurry to get rid of me.
