by Sky Winters
Roman leaned back, his eyes sharp, though ringed with warmth. He said nothing.
“And then I nearly get killed, again, and the only reason I didn’t is because I shot someone, someone who may have been a cop, I don’t know. And now you’re here, telling me that I just need to shut up and do whatever you say, and that’s the only way I’ll stay alive. But I’m saying that that’s not going to do it for me.”
By the end of this her voice was weary, and her shoulders low with fatigue and defeat. Sensing that she was finished, Roman rose from the bed, now standing over her, looking down into her oak-colored eyes, which he now saw were ringed with tears of frustration.
“I know you didn’t ask for this, and I know that this world, my world, is something that you want nothing to do with. I know that you just want to go back to how things were before. But you know that’s not an option. The only way out is through now. And I know that’s no consolation. But I can tell you that as long as you’re with me, and as long as we’re going through this together, I won’t let any harm come to you. I’ll protect you above my own life.
Miranda felt weak. But not the incapable sort of weak, rather, the kind of weakness that follows when one has finally, after a long struggle, decided to let their guard down. She felt the weight of everything shift from her shoulders- not simply the struggles of the last day, but the weight of having to be strong even when she felt she couldn’t be. This strange situation was the tipping point, when she realized that she couldn’t bear the weight of the world on her shoulders, and Roman’s offer, his gift of taking on some of that weight was enough to let flow what had been building in her for as long as she could remember.
She looked up, into his dark eyes, and felt a sense of safety and warmth that she thought had been forever lost to her. Then, as though compelled by something outside of herself, she moved towards him until her face was only inches form his. Roman simply stared back at her, a feeling of heat building between them. Miranda closed her eyes, her mouth parting slightly, her tongue running across her lips. Roman then leaned in towards Miranda, kissing her.
A surge ran through Miranda as soon as their lips touched. And now that the boundary was crossed, Miranda allowed herself to give over to the hunger that she had been ignoring. She pressed her lips against Roman’s, kissing him hard, his tongue sliding onto hers as their hands moved up, starting at their waists and moving up, under the fabric of their clothes. Roman began to kiss Miranda’s neck, and the feeling of his lips on the delicate flesh under her ear sent shivers up along her spine; she could feel the sensation of gooseflesh along her arms and neck.
With animalistic urgency, Roman pulled Miranda’s shirt off, snapping the buttons and pulling it and her jacket over her arms, exposing her ample breasts, which were restrained by a simple black bra. He then lifted off his own shirt, and Miranda gazed in awe at the contours of his pectoral muscles, the definition of his abdominals, and the hard span of his shoulders. No need was more pressing to her in that moment than wrapping herself within his thick arms, and letting him do with her whatever he wanted.
And he seemed to sense this. Roman reached behind Miranda with his large hands, deftly unfastening her bra and pulling it from her body, her breasts tumbling and bouncing free. He moved his head down towards them, taking her breasts in his hands and licking and sucking her nipples with abandon. The sensation of his tongue on her nipples made Miranda’s arousal grow to a boil as she closed her eyes and let her head drift backwards, listening to the sucking of Roman’s mouth on her breasts.
He then lifted his head up and stared into her eyes, a hunger clearly burning within him. Putting his hands on Miranda’s slim shoulders, he pushed her backwards onto the bed, and she fell onto it, her breasts shaking with the impact. Roman pulled off her shoes and socks, then undid her belt and jeans button. The pants loose, he grabbed them by the ankles and yanked them from her legs, leaving her exposed, wearing nothing but a pair of black bikini-cut underwear. A flash of insecurity rushed through her mind as she wished that she were wearing something sexier, but that was pushed aside as fast as it arrived when Roman moved closer, his massive frame looming over her for a moment before he descended, kissing her thighs and hips.
Miranda shivered again with pleasure as she rocked her hips back and forth. She wanted him inside of her more than anything, for him to fill her and blot out the stresses that had been weighing on her, to make her forget the danger that she was in, and the uncertain future ahead of her. And as though reading her mind, Roman complied. Taking the waistband of her panties under his fingers, he pulled them down her legs and off, leaving her nude. Miranda felt the cool night air through the open window across her bare body, and closed her eyes once again, waiting for Roman to do what she desperately wanted him to do.
Miranda felt his strong hands move inward onto her thighs and move them apart, spreading her legs. He moved over her once again until he was on top of her. She moved her legs further apart to accommodate him, looking down to see that he had taken off his pants, and that his thick, long cock was now hanging hard between her legs. The sight of it so near her pussy turned her on even more, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap her hand around the thickness of his shaft and drive his erection into her.
But Roman didn’t make her wait long. Moving his body downwards, he aimed his cock and guided it until Miranda could feel the hardness of the head of his prick against her lips. Then, with a swift thrust, he plunged himself into her, the slickness of her arousal facilitating his penetration of her. Miranda took in a sharp gasp of air as she felt his cock slide into her, filling her completely, and the sense of him inside of her turned her on even further.
Roman started with slow thrusts, moving inside of her at an almost lazy pace. Though she wanted him to fuck her hard, Miranda savored the feeling of him inside of her, moving in and out of her pussy, taking in every inch of his long, hard cock over and over again as he unsheathed himself completely with each drive into her. She took in a long draw of air through her nose, smelling his rough, animal scent, and dragged her nails across the length of his hard, smooth back, finally bringing them to a rest on his ass. She pressed her hands into his cheeks, imploring him to plunge into her harder.
Roman picked up his pace, increasing the speed of his thrusting, grunting occasionally as he filled Miranda with his prick. Miranda was now being wracked with pleasure, moaning and panting as he moved in and out of her at a hard, rhythmic pace, his hips slamming into hers with each thrust. Miranda’s hands moved up and down Roman’s body, taking in the feeling of his muscles against her skin. Moving her hands along the length of her own body, starting at her breasts, down her stomach, and along her hips, she felt a sheen of perspiration form on her body from his heat. She brought her hands up, placing her palms on her breasts, feeling them shake with each hard thrust by Roman.
Miranda’s hands balled into fists and pulled the sheets as Roman pounded her. She felt an orgasm begin within her as she lost herself in the steady pace of his thrusting, and she could tell that his own orgasm was near as well. His grunts became more frequent, and her gasps of air became sharper as the pleasure increased. His hands moved down to her hips, holding her in place as he stabbed into her, over and over. Finally, Miranda couldn’t hold it back any longer, and orgasm ripped through her body in waves of hot, vibrating pleasure.
Roman let out a grunt, and she opened her eyes long enough to see that he was coming, shooting his cum deep into her with slowed, full pumps. She felt her orgasm run through her limbs as he filled her, from deep in her stomach to the tips of her fingers. Roman’s pace slowed more and more as he finished, and with one last grunt, he slid himself fully into her, then pulled his cock out from her. Miranda could feel the hot drip of cum leak down her thigh as he slid his prick out of her, and the sensation of being filled with him brought a sly smile to her face.
Roman took in deep, slow breath, squeezing Miranda’s breasts one final time before turning and collapsing at h
er side. And as she watched his chest rise and fall, his breath slowing and steadying, she turned her head, looking at the silver moonlight that poured into the room.
Chapter 12
Miranda dragged the back of her nails over Roman’s smooth chest, watching the trails they made through the sheen of sweat on his muscles.
“This was…unexpected,” she said, her eyes now turning towards the sinking moon through the window over the bed.
“Unexpected, but welcome,” he said, his voice a low purr.
A moment passed, and Miranda moved her body towards Roman, resting her head on his chest, her chestnut hair splaying over his torso. Her wrapped his arm around her slim frame and brought her closer.
“It’s been…well, it’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this.”
“Oh,” asked Roman, seeming surprised.
“Yeah. I had a little bit of a rough breakup with my ex.”
“Ex…boyfriend? Husband?”
“The second thing.”
“Ah.”
Miranda was surprised at herself for letting this out, but she felt safe lying there, in his arms. She felt like she could tell him anything.
“Yeah. Cheated on me for months, all behind my back. Then when I found out, he ran off with the new girl.”
“Nice guy.”
“No kidding. And this is right when I made detective. Hell of a way to start a promotion.”
Another moment passed. Miranda looked over Roman’s body, paying special attention to the notches of his hips, the definition of his stomach, and the way his now-flaccid cock lay draped against his thigh. She felt like she could go another round already, but the sleep that she had been fighting off for the last several hours was starting to catch up to her.
“But this the last goddamn thing I need to be worried about,” she said, catching herself.
Roman’s red lips spread into a knowing smile.
“Right, we’ve got a city to save.”
Miranda’s vision blurred as she lay there, her head on Roman’s chest. She wondered if she’d even be able to get to sleep, or if the stress of everything going on would keep her up even later. But within seconds of this thought crossing through her mind, her lids slammed shut, and she was off into a deep sleep.
When she awoke it was still dark outside. Looking around her, she saw that she was alone. Roman was gone, and she was now lying among the sheets of her bed, her head resting comfortably on the pillows. Seeing her phone on the nightstand, she snatched it up and looked at the time. It was evening the next day; she had slept through all of the daylight hours. Miranda also saw that aside from the missed calls that had been filling her phone over the last few days, she also had text from an unknown number.
Text me when you get this.
- LT
It was Peterson. But Miranda couldn’t figure out why he would message her. Wouldn’t he be thinking she was the murder, just like everyone else? She tapped the message box, and typed out a quick message.
Here.
She set the phone back down on the nightstand. But as soon as she sat up in bed and put her feet on the floor, her phone buzzed with a reply.
Meet me at the Queensboro Bridge. Queens side. Two hours from now. I’m on your side.
Any last traces of sleepiness rushed from Miranda’s body upon reading this last text. She stood up out of bed and threw on a high-cut, red robe that was hanging from a hook on the bedroom door. And as soon as she tied the belt around her waist, she felt the presence of someone in the room. Turning, she saw that Roman had opened the door and was standing in the entryway.
“You’re up,” he said.
“We have to go to Queens,” she said, looking around the room for her clothes.
“Woah, calm down,” he said, raising his hands. “Why? What’s in Queens?”
“My boss. He says that we need to meet,” she said, picking up a pillow from the floor and snatching up her jeans.
“And how to we know that this isn’t a trap?”
“I just know- I can sense it,” she said, getting ready to step into her pants.
“OK, hold up. First of all, I have clean clothes for you. Take a shower and calm down. We can talk about this when you’re done.”
Miranda stopped in place. She looked at a chair on the other side of the room, and saw her jacket. Rushing over, she felt it, confirming that her gun was there. She didn’t want to rest. She wanted to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. But a shower did sound good, and they had some before the meeting.
“OK, fine,” she said.
Roman crossed his arms and grinned.
“Atta girl. Take five minutes for yourself, and you’ll be in a better frame of mind. Shower’s through that door,” he said, pointing to the door at the other side of the room.
With that, he left.
Miranda went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and after taking off her robe and tossing it onto the basin of the toilet, stepped in. Standing there for minutes, she did nothing but enjoy the feeling of the hot, steaming water against her skin. Tilting her head up, she stood in front of the shower head, closing her eyes as the water rushed over her body.
Not wanting to get too comfortable, she stepped out of the shower and dried off. Back in the room, she saw that Roman had left her an outfit folded up on the now-made bed. She unfolded the clothes and spread them out, seeing that it was a pair of dark, slim blue jeans, a simple, white t-shirt, and a matching set of dark red underwear; all seemed to be in her size. She tossed the clothes on and checked her phone. She’d need to leave in the next few minutes to make the meeting.
Gathering the rest of her things, she headed down the wide staircase and saw Roman sitting on the arm of an overstuffed red chair, his arms crossed under his chest.
“Ready?” he asked.
Miranda nodded, and they headed out into the cool air of the early evening. They jumped into Roman’s car, and pulled away from the house.
“Where’s everyone else?” asked Miranda as they drove onto a main road, the tall fence that formed the border of Prospect Park on her left.
“They’ve got their own missions. Some are checking in with their societies, trying to figure out just how bad the influence of the Old Worlders is.”
They continued on, driving through the streets of downtown Brooklyn, which were beginning to thicken with cars as people went out for the evening.
They drove through Williamsburg, the towers of Manhattan twinkling with lights visible across the East River. Eventually, they reached Queens, and the form of the Queensboro Bridge could be seen in the distance.
“This lieutenant,” asked Roman, his eyes on the road, “is he someone we can trust?”
Miranda waited before responding.
“Yes, I think so. Peterson’s always been on the up-and-up, as far as I could tell.”
They reached the bridge park and came to a stop. The bridge loomed overhead, blotting out lights from the city. Miranda and Roman began to step out of the car, but Miranda turned to Roman and held up her hand.
“No,” she said, “Wait here. It’ll be better if I’m alone.”
“I don’t like that idea,” said Roman, his face turning grim.
“Just trust me- cops can have a hard time with strangers.”
Roman’s jaw clenched.
“Fine,” he said, lowering his body back into the car, “but I’m staying close.”
Miranda turned back towards the base of the bridge, and started towards them in a soft trot, her sneakers plodding softly on the grass of the park. She reached the base of the bridge, and looked around. But she saw nothing, just angled swaths of darkness from the shadow of the bridge.
“There you are,” said a voice from behind Miranda.
She turned, and saw the form of Lieutenant Peterson step out from behind one of the metal bridge columns. His face, usually stern and calm, seemed to be painted with worry and suspicion, as though expecting someone to jump out and attack
him at any moment.
“Lieutenant!” Miranda said, walking towards him.
He looked her over, as though making sure she was uninjured.
“Good to see you, detective,” he said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket, lighting one and taking a drag. He offered one to Miranda, which she accepted with eagerness.
A moment passed, each of them taking drag of their cigarettes.
“What the hell is going on?” Miranda said, cutting through the silence. “Who are these vampires? Why am I being framed for murder?”
“You’re being framed for murder because you’re the most convenient fall guy- easy as that,” he said, looking at Miranda through wisps of smoke roiling in front of his severe face.
“And what’s going on is probably the biggest conspiracy in the city’s history. Vampires. They almost run this whole city,” he said, sweeping a hand towards the Manhattan skyline.
“Yeah, I’m learning that,” said Miranda, a wry tone to her voice.
“But it’s getting out of control. The vampires from Europe are coming over and wrecking what was already a very delicate situation. And they’re trying to get rid of people in the city who’re against it.”
“I just need to know what to do to put a stop to it,” she said, taking another drag.
“Don’t trust anyone in the NYPD, that’s step one.”
“Then how can I know to trust you?” asked Miranda, her face marked with a skeptical expression.
“Because if you ask anyone else about this they’ll pretend to not know what you’re talking about, at best. At worst is, well, worse.”
Miranda’s thoughts went to Michael, and how on TV he seemed to be all too eager to tell the world that she was the killer they all thought she was.
“But here’s the thing- there aren’t that many of these Old Worlders here yet. Think of this like an expeditionary force. They’re here to see what kind of resistance we’d put up if they were to come here and take things over. I know how things with the vamps have been over the last few years- a lot of chaos, a lot of back-stabbing. The Old Worlders must’ve thought that this would be a good time to make a move. And they aren’t wrong.”
