by Kallysten
Before long, he was panting, his breath ragged as she took him closer and closer without letting him come; but for once, she didn't grin and point out to him that he didn't need to breathe. This time, she was breathing just as hard as he was. Finally sliding inside her was like coming home and they both stilled at the sensation, watching each other as they lay side by side, her leg thrown over his hip to give him access to her core and hold him closer.
"You're beautiful, Erik,” she murmured with a slight smile. “I couldn't have dreamed of a more wonderful Childe."
Answering, after that, that he couldn't have dreamed himself of a more wonderful Sire felt too weak of a declaration, and instead of talking, he covered her lips with his, and started thrusting inside her, shallow movements that progressively became stronger as she accompanied him and amplified his motions. After the way they had teased each other, this couldn't last long, and too soon Erik was trembling in the cocoon of her arms and body, trying to fight off his release until she reached her own.
"Bite me,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse with pleasure. “Take my blood, Sire. Please..."
"I shall. And you shall do the same."
Surprise at her words made Erik cease to move, and Gabrielle took the opportunity to roll their bodies so that she was lying on top of him. The tilt of her head, offering her neck to his mouth, was too enticing to resist despite the shock of it; Erik had been offered blood from her wrist many times, but never, never from her neck, never like this...
His fangs sank into her flesh only a second before she bit him, and pleasure tore through him, making him arch one last time into her, at the instant her blood touched his tongue.
Chapter 6
It wasn't so hard to follow Gabrielle's scent back to her lair. Good thing, that. Erik didn't know what he would have done if he had been stuck outside during the day with his wounded Sire. He had become adept at finding hiding places for himself, but she was too hurt for any of his tricks.
Still, if Gabrielle's scent hadn't been so clear all around the house and inside it, Erik might have found it difficult to believe she lived there. The small habitation entirely made out of wood and barely furnished was a far cry from the lair they had once shared, with its cut-stone walls, large rooms and heavy furniture. Then again, it was better than what he could call his lair on most days.
He quickly found the bedroom, stripped Gabrielle, tended to her wounds and broken bones, cleaned her, all the while trying not to look at her. It had been a long time since he had seen a woman like this; even longer since he had touched one; and it had been centuries since it had been Gabrielle beneath his eyes and hands. The memory had faded with time, or so he had thought, but to breathe in her scent again, to caress her skin was bringing all of it back, and making his body yearn for hers. He managed not to take advantage of the situation, but couldn't have explained how he did.
When he was done, his hands were covered in blood. He stared at them for a long time before finally giving in and slowly licking them clean. The taste was glorious, as glorious as he remembered, and it was a struggle not to bend to that tempting neck and take more. Instead, he tore his own wrist and pushed it against Gabrielle's mouth. His Sire was still unconscious, but instinct took over and she suckled on the blood offered to her until Erik pulled away.
Mind blank, cock achingly hard, Erik tucked the sheet tight under Gabrielle's body so she wouldn't move and hurt herself while sleeping, and left the room. He had to go out and take care of his horse before the sun rose, but he could barely walk in his state, and couldn't think or focus, his mind still in that room, still in front of his naked Sire whom he couldn't, wouldn't touch.
Unfastening the laces of his breeches, he leaned back against the bedroom wall and pulled out his cock. Gabrielle's scent was all around him, even stronger for her blood on his clothes, and all he had to do was close his eyes to see in his mind Gabrielle and himself, hunting and feeding together before fucking, still covered in demon blood. His cock hardened even more at the memory and he shut his eyes tighter, trying to summon not only the sight, but the sounds, harsh pants and frantic pleas, the smell, blood and lust and come and want, the taste, sweet blood, strong blood from his Sire and lover, the feel of her hands on him, of his cock entering her...
He came with images of Gabrielle dancing in his mind, and a curse on his lips.
For long, very long minutes, he remained there, staring at nothing, wondering what he would do. He was tired, so tired of being alone ... it would have been so easy to stay, take care of Gabrielle, find a place in her life again. So easy. Too easy.
Shaking the fantasy away, he tucked himself in and fastened his clothes again before pushing away from the wall and striding out, quickly assessing how much time he had left before the sun became a problem. With the cover of the trees, he would have enough time to take care of his horse and clean up, he estimated. A double snap of his fingers brought the well-trained stallion running back to him, and he stroked its side as he led the animal to the small barn. With the quickness and efficiency of habit, he cleaned, fed and watered the horse before locking the door behind him and returning to the well.
Shedding his tunic, he washed as well as he could the blood and come off it in a bucket before quickly washing himself. Then, his step heavy with incertitude and confusion, he entered the house again. Gabrielle was still asleep in the only bed, and although it was large enough for two, he didn't even consider joining her in it. Instead, he took a seat at the table in the common room, and, resting his head on his crossed arms, tried to fall asleep. But despite his fatigue, despite being safer in this heavily curtained house than he had been in many of his temporary lairs, he couldn't manage to find sleep, his mind haunted by too many memories. To have Gabrielle's scent so strongly around him was not helping anything.
It was this same scent, and particularly that of her blood, that made him jump to his feet after a few hours when it suddenly became sharper, fresher. He found Gabrielle almost by the bedroom's entrance, lying on the floor, some of her wounds reopened if he was to believe the smell.
"What are you trying to do? Paint the floor with your blood?"
He tried not to be too harsh as he helped her back into bed, even if he was angry at her stupidity. Why had she tried to move when she was so hurt?
The answer was obvious, and Erik cursed himself for not thinking about it sooner.
"Hungry?” he asked.
Gabrielle merely nodded, a clear enough answer. But Erik needed to know something first.
"Going to get yourself dusted as soon as you're good enough to walk out of here? ‘Cause if you're going to, there's no sense in wasting good blood on you."
He hoped his fear wasn't too present in his voice, but there wasn't much he could do about that. Gabrielle answered, and for an instant Erik was confused. Had she said ‘I won't', or ‘I want'? And want what? Reading lips was a bore, even after so much time.
When Gabrielle didn't add anything, Erik supposed that it had been ‘I won't', and nodded. Without even thinking about it any longer, he came to kneel next to her and offered her his wrist. Her fangs slid easily into his flesh, and he had to focus on something other than her as she drank not to become aroused. The black length of fabric draped over the room's window looked like it had been cut out of a cloak; he wondered, for a while, if it was hers, only noticing now that she had not been wearing a cloak when he had found her. She used not to ever go out without one, and he had once heard her joke that it was part of the vampire tradition to wear long, black cloaks.
By the time she stopped pulling on his blood, he was hard again, and cursing himself for it. Trying to hide his discomfort from her, he quickly left the room, advising her to rest. There was a lot he would have wished to tell Gabrielle, a lot of questions he would have wanted to ask, but after two hundred years the pain was still fresh of waking up alone in the deserted ruins of their lair, and his pride wouldn't let him risk a repeat of that. He left the house to take care of hi
s horse, and hunted for a few minutes for small game to feed from. It wasn't long though before he returned to the house, and after checking on Gabrielle, he took his own advice and tried once more to find sleep.
* * * *
Erik wasn't sure whether it was his body or his heart that hurt most as he curled up on the floor, closing himself to the world. Nothing left, in this world, for him. No one.
He was aware, barely, of Gabrielle's presence, but her silence was painful. Why wouldn't she say anything? Why wouldn't she even say his name, acknowledge that she was seeing him, that they were still there together, that not everything was gone?
A strong hand closed on his arm, pulled him until he was straddling Gabrielle's lap, but Erik continued to tremble, still convinced that he had lost everything and everyone that night. Blunt teeth closed on his neck, not painfully but hard enough that he couldn't ignore them, and he froze. Such a small gesture, but it meant everything to him. It meant he wasn't alone. And so when Gabrielle let go, Erik held her in place, silently begging for the connection to last. He had no warning before the fangs sank in his flesh, and he whimpered, both in pleasure and pain.
He whimpered, but heard nothing. And in that instant, he realized that he hadn't heard a thing for hours, not since the Primal Forces had broken free from their cage in an explosion of noise and light. No sounds. No sounds at all.
Fear mixed with pain and lust, and he tore at Gabrielle's clothes as she tore off his own, trying to find comfort and reassurance in touch since he couldn't find them in words. Blood welled up from scratches he inflicted on Gabrielle and he cleaned it off frantically, needing the additional contact and reveling in the taste of his Sire as much as in her touch. It felt as though Gabrielle hadn't touched him in centuries, rather than a couple of years, and each slide of her fingers, each caress or pinch, brought him back to less complicated, happier times. Forgetting was good. Remembering, even better.
And Erik remembered, quite well, having been as pliant under his Sire as he now was, letting her position his body as she wanted it. He had stopped submitting as thoroughly long before, but when raw lust and pure need were stronger than instinct, even the rebellious demon inside him quieted down and simply accepted.
His shout, when Gabrielle roughly sank down on his cock, was as much one of pain as it was one of satisfaction at being claimed. Gabrielle's eyes remained locked to his as she rocked herself up and down onto him, and that connection, the feel of her around, above, so damn close, the so powerful scent of wanting and needing were enough to anchor Erik to the world. He had been ready to wait for the sun, earlier, but not anymore, not when he was wanted, not when he hadn't lost everything as he had believed he had. He only wished he had been able to express it, make it clear to his Sire, but how could he do that when he couldn't even hear the sound of his own voice?
It wouldn't matter, he decided. He would find a way to tell Gabrielle just how much this—she—meant to him. Maybe she already knew anyway, why else would she be doing this, why else would they be coming together, sharing blood, going to sleep curled against each other?
When Erik woke, late the next night, he was alone. He waited for Gabrielle to return, staring at the lightning bolts that tore the sky open in perfect silence. It took him three long days and three even longer nights to realize that his Sire wouldn't be coming back for him.
* * * *
Awakening from a bad dream, Erik stared at the wood grain of the table in front of him for a long time, trying to remember where he was. And then, the scent assaulted his consciousness, Gabrielle's scent, and everything came back to him. Wary, he went to the bedroom and leaned against the wall, watching his elder sleep.
For a day and half, he watched her sleep, feeding her from his wrist a few times, practically seeing her heal in front of his eyes. The temptation existed to look around the house, try to guess what had happened to Gabrielle since the last time they had seen each other, but Erik fought it. He didn't want to know. Knowing would make everything even more difficult when it was time to leave.
Finally, Gabrielle roused. They were only subtle changes in her body, but Erik recognized them immediately.
"You're awake?"
It was still strange to talk and not hear his own voice. He could feel the vibrations, and that helped him know whether he was talking loud enough to be heard, but he couldn't control his voice as he once had.
"Yes, I'm awake. How long have you been here?"
Keeping his eyes on Gabrielle's mouth, Erik shrugged. It had taken him a long time to learn how to read lips, and he couldn't do it perfectly, but it was good enough for small talk. “Couple of minutes. Was going to wake you. You slept a long time."
"How long?"
"Day and half. Feeling better?"
After Gabrielle had not answered for a few seconds, Erik realized she was testing her body. If she could do that, it had to mean she was much better. And as well she should be, seeing how he had fed her his own blood five times in the last two days. Unwilling to leave her alone for too long in case she would have awoken, he had hunted for small animals in the forest around the house and couldn't wait to feed properly. Humans were reluctant in offering blood to vampires these days, but they could be persuaded, when they were shown a few severed demon heads. And if everything else failed, demon blood tasted terrible but it was at least strong enough to satiate a vampire, unlike rabbits and foxes.
Tired of waiting for an answer, Erik approached the bed, already steeling himself. He had purposefully refrained from checking her wounds until now so he wouldn't have to be so close to her naked body again, but if he wanted to know how far along her healing had progressed, he would have to check for himself.
She closed her eyes when he tugged at the sheet and revealed her, and he was thankful for the reprieve. He wouldn't have wanted her to see he couldn't keep his eyes off her. She had changed, since he had last touched her with anything other than medical intentions. She had cut her long hair, so that its curls barely touched her shoulders. The main difference though was her weight. Vampires weren't supposed to change, but they lost weight when they didn't feed enough or properly. Judging by how frail this Gabrielle looked compared to the one that lived in his memories, he had no doubt that she hadn't been feeding right for a long time. That didn't explain however her refusal to fight back the humans who had attacked her. Even thinner, she had to have conserved most of her strength. One thing she definitely hadn't lost was her beauty, and it was hard for him not to reach out and simply run his fingers over her.
Sitting down next to her, he tried to concentrate on his task, and nothing else. He was going to check her thigh, and for that he needed to touch her; there was nothing wrong with that. The fact that her skin was as silk under his fingers when he unwrapped the bandage was just completely beside the point.
When he had finally discarded the length of cloth, he looked closely at the wound. It was still red, but it had closed nicely, and he was ready to bet that in a few months the scar would have faded away to nothing. Standing, he left the room for a few moments. He had pulled water from the well earlier, intending to use it to wash Gabrielle's wounds, and without pausing to think had put it to warm in the pot hanging in the chimney, and had lit a fire. Only after the flames had started rising, strong and hot, had he realized what had motivated his actions. Cold water would have cleaned blood off Gabrielle's skin just fine, but he remembered that she had always preferred warm water to clean herself, remembered baths they had taken together in a large copper tub they had had made for this very purpose, remembered too many things he wished he could have forgotten.
Gabrielle's eyes were open as Erik returned to her with a bowl of hot water, and he was careful to keep his eyes down as he sat near her again and started cleaning the dried blood off her thigh. He forced himself to think of nothing as he did; he could feel Gabrielle's eyes on him, and he didn't want to open himself to more pain by revealing any of his feelings or thoughts. It was difficult not to le
t the memories take over, however, when the familiarity of his actions was still so fresh, even after centuries. Difficult, also, not to notice that Gabrielle was not unaffected by his touch, and difficult not to react to all of it. All he could do was pretend that nothing was going on, that his cock hadn't hardened to the point of pain, that he didn't want her. Thankfully, he was soon done with his cleaning, and taking the bowl of dirty water away gave him an excuse to have a moment to himself. Leaning for a few seconds against the table, he summoned a particularly painful memory back to his consciousness, and his erection subsided instantly. It wasn't a trick he liked to use often. His Sire had been anything but gentle when she had replaced him in her bed, and the memory was still as painful as it was vivid in his mind. But it worked, and at that moment it was all that mattered.
Returning to the bedroom, he was very careful not to breathe and take in her scent again as he walked to the other side of the bed. Her arm had been broken, and he held it carefully as he freed it from the bandage. He was soon satisfied that it was healing properly, but he looked at Gabrielle's face nonetheless and asked: “Does it still hurt?"
"A little,” he easily read on her lips.
If it still hurt, he figured, the bone must not have repaired fully yet. If she hadn't been underfed before he had found her, she would probably have been healed by now. As it was, it probably was safer to keep the bandage in place to prevent the bones from shifting by accident.
"The break was clean,” he said, feeling the need to explain his actions even if he knew she probably understood them. “It'll probably heal just fine as long as you let it."
He asked her to sit up once he was finished with her arm, and was unable to resist helping her with a hand against her smooth back. His hands were trembling as he unwrapped the bandages that had bound her sides, and as much as he tried not to touch her, it was too tempting to be this close to her and not do it. The first time was an accident, but as he saw her nipple harden when the back of his hand caressed the underside of her breast, he couldn't help repeating the gesture. Such a striking woman, so responsive, so...
