All of a sudden, he turns her to the back, leaving her on all fours, he gripped his cock, smashed it on her butt crack as it made her moan with his tap. Slowly, with his left hand, he gripped her hip, grasping it very hard as her soft skin surrendered its strength to his grip, he dipped his thumb to her contracting ass hole slowly and at the same time, with simultaneous movements, he plunged his frame into her sex. The feeling of being filled up in both holes made him moan in a very rough voice, “umm,” she moaned softly, releasing herself to Luke’s every motion. He rammed into her sex hungrily with his frame as his member kissed the head of the soul of her G spot, she started spasming in pleasure. With continuous thrusts, she started pushing back on her own to get his cock deeper into her pussy.
Becca was definitely about to lose her mind to the incoherent thrusts in her sex and ass hole from the back. She was overwhelmed.
She was so proud of herself.
Less than two days ago, her sex couldn’t fit her finger in comfortably, but now, she is basking in pleasures she never knew existed in the universe. The most exciting part is that it was happening with an enemy. No matter how much she thinks of it, she seemed not to understand it.
“We find love in reckless places,” she said to herself as she smiled, turning to look at Luke as he fucked her from behind. “He so much likes it this way, I just know it,” she added, soliloquizing.
As he continued thrusting his frame in her pussy, she started spasming yet again, as she moaned orgasmicaly on him, squirting her juice all over Luke. He looks at her and smiles, as he says, “you are really the beauty I sought out for, your world is amazing and I will do anything to keep you safe from harm. I will be your shield, I will be your strength; I will be your sword.” He said as he professed his undying, eternal love to her.
She turns to him as they kiss in warm passion, as he grips her curves with his big strong hands, caressing her body and stroking her hair in a brushing movement. They both fall to the bed, as they switched to a spoon position with Becca reminiscing on the events that just passed, as Luke sleeps behind her with his semi hard penis relaxing behind her, between her thighs.
They sleep off momentarily from being exhausted with basking in the pleasures of each other’s body.
CHAPTER 6
I KNOW WHO YOU ARE, BECCA!
Hours passed with Luke waking up to the early morning sun shining kissing the skin of his eyelids softly. The ignorant rays of the sun weren’t harsh on him like it would be any other vampire, as he was different. Yet, his strength was not back enough to feel the full wrath of the sun without being burned alive—but as his case, burned dead. Practice of hundreds of years and skin burns, here and there gave him the right strength and powers he needed to be resistant to the brightness of the sun. Years ago, fire was his mate, his friend and only companion, but now, he has to steer clear from it for now.
He looks at Becca, as she laid still on the bed with tiredness written all over her face, all from her being fucked hard by Luke, the night before. The apparent softness of her body as her skin sank into the sheets of the bed, formed a crease that made Luke get an erection fast. Her little body was pleasured in a way she never had been, or ever expected she would in her life time. She moved slightly, as Luke ran his hands on her thighs slowly, feeling every softness and femininity she exuded with ease.
His balls contracted as his hands cupped her breasts softly, as he did that while trying so hard not to wake her up, she smiled and let off a light moan, as though she was in the present—awake—looking into his eyes as he fondled her nipples. He wanted her so bad, but he needed to use—harness—her strength for himself. If she is who he thinks of she is, though a mortal enemy, he will gain the lair he was once Lord—leader—of.
He remembers the night before as she came on his body, pinning her petite self on him, as she opened her world for him to thrust into her freely and easily. Yes, she apparently just showed him—well, indirectly—that she was the right one for him, as told in the prophecy. The prophecy went by; A day would come where the brute, Lukai—Luke—will scent his mate from beneath the earth, and would search tireless and find her. If, and when he does find her, against her will, he will overthrow the kingdom and the reign of the vampire will prevail once again. His mate will be born a witch and vampire killer. If the prophecies are true, he has now won the war without knowing it.
He had never slept with anyone on this same bed, as he would shred the person because each spot by his side was meant for his fated love, whenever he meets her. His killer instincts make him stay alone, all night. But her, his mate, she will be his calm, his power, his weakness and his strength.
He thought yet again, that she may not be his own, she is not of his kind, she was a killer, a descendant of his captors, and the sight of her reminds him of hate, pain and horror. The horror he passed through the years was right beside him. But his senses tell him to think differently, she is a beautiful young lady, even for a human. As she breathed softly under her breath, she moaned as he hits her nipples softly with his fingers, touching and fondling them.
He was sick of thinking ill of her, he was growing on her more than he thought he would for a woman, a female human. They were meant to be food. They should be hunted down, toyed with, and then killed, drained of their blood; used for themselves. His life’s purpose was hanging by a thread of a relationship that could brew between him and Becca.
He knew what had to be done. They had to leave, to get his rightful place in his coven, or at least, where he used to be a leader. He removes his hands from her body, as she turned her back towards him like a child, her round buttocks laid open to his eyes. His heart starts to race fast. He needs to get ready, he needs to know more about the world now, and he needs to get up to speed. But her ass, was served to him, showing him she needed something, or at least, so he thought.
She moved her body again, looking up to the ceiling of the room as her breasts stood strong. He could hear her swallow softly, her hands moved slowly, like she twitched. He wonders as he pictures her ruling with him by his side, as his queen. He knows too well that she may very well be his very downfall. But still, she was the key to everything he could achieve. He casts his mind away from the thought that she could betray him so that he does not hurt her either before she does. As he leaves her to sleep on, he stands beside the bed, as his eyes scanned through the room to see what he could find. As once a prey, as he was told to think of himself by Ambrogio, he should try as much as possible to understand the surroundings around him because he is being hunted at times, making him the master hunter. “Always be prepared,” he would always say to Luke. In the distance, he sees the involuntary participator of the fight between him and Becca from the night before—the pieces of the dresser stacked at the back of the door as a barricade. He smiles…
Stepping on the rubbles with his bare feet, and not minding the fact that he could be pierced by some nails, he walkedslowly to it, so as not to wake Becca up. He reaches another dresser attached to the wall, beside the only large dressing mirror that looked detached from the room. The wood the dresser was made from looked familiar, it was made from the wood used in killing vampires centuries ago. “How did she get this?” He said as he looked as he turned his back, looking at Becca as she curled up in the sheets, exposing only the side of her breasts, with only her left leg revealed up to her hips. She was surely a seductress. But how in the world did she get this wood, was all he could think of at the moment. The sides of the wood had some ancient markings and words inscribed on it. He did not know the meaning, as he doesn’t touch the dresser, in fear of facing a horror he was not ready for at the time. These marking were markings from a witch, “I am sure of it,” he said to himself as he pondered yet again. Towards the extreme right corner beside the door leading to the rest room, he finds a wardrobe.
He finds it looking somewhat simple, yet sophisticated as he walked up to it and opens it. What he sees amazes him. There are different compartments and h
ad clothing with some weird looks. Her belongings were weird, “or was it what they wear these day,” he said to himself. He drew a drawer out and saw what he thinks should be underwear but was scantily made. It was soft, softer than silk, but not as soft as her inner thighs. He imagined her wearing the panties and wonders where they would fit into. Her body was petite but athletic, it should fit in perfectly. He touches the silk fabric as he brings it closer to his nose, they smelled of blue roses, which grew in his garden at the back of his chamber, in his coven. His chamber was beautiful as it was really coveted when he was Lord. The sun would shine beautifully on his roses and they would blossom each day with a rare beauty that painted light murals from the reflections of the sun against his chamber walls. Only he could behold the magnificent sight, as well as tend to his garden—in the day and night—if he wished. The last raid was definitely a sad one, as he was given away by an informant in his upper ranks, who was promised he would be made a human—mortality. Making a contract with the witches and vampire hunters sealed his fate years ago. The traitor lives in the coven—he thinks—as he was not changed into a human—he was also betrayed. His dreams of seeing the blue skies, going to the ocean with his then girlfriend, while bathing in the sun, was worth everything to him—mostly a betrayal. Now, he sees why he could do such a thing. The humans are not that bad after all, as some can coexist with vampires. He felt he betrayed his kind, as he was sleeping with a puny human. Sexy, but puny, regardless.
The loose clothing were in a limited set of colors. She had a wide range of clothes, mostly jackets and leather pants, all in black and white. Her panties, they were all different and ‘creative.’ “How does she feel comfortable with these kind of things wrapped around her like ropes and a little paper?” he asks himself in wonder as he picks another, feeling the texture of the fabric yet again, as he tossed it back away. Looking further, he checks her backpack, laying across the room with her gun sitting to the left, with pieces of wood slightly covering it. Luke leaves the wardrobe open, as he walked to the bag. He leans to the floor, and with him getting down on all fours, but finally crouching, pushing, as he tested his body, with most of his body weight resting on his newly regenerated leg, he picks up the gun and examines it. There were yet, another set of markings just like the dresser with a familiar kind of wood. NO DOUBT! SHE IS SURELY A VAMPIRE HUNTER,” he shouts to himself, “I said it,” he continued.
With some markings beside the trigger and the area where the safety lock sat. He opened the sealing compartment where the cartridge was enclosed, and pulled out the cartridge slowly, examining each inch of the cartridge. There were markings there too. “Is this what they use these days to kill our kind? This reeks of pure evil,” he said, as he checked the bullets. It was an empty cartridge, as she emptied it on him when she sprayed his chest, neck and stomach. He reached her before she could reload her gun. He drops the gun, as he reaches forward to check her stylish bag pack that was also worn as a sling bag and empties the contents on the dirty floor. He finds her credit card with her name engraved on it, BECCA MCCOY, all in capital letters, with an inscription at the top right, he sees, ‘this debit card has no limit, enjoy your banking.’he flips it to the other side and sees her other banking details, as well as the expiration date, smiling, as he slowly chunks it into his trousers close the his leg on the floor.
There were so many other cards in a smaller purse with different colors but one struck different from the rest. It was matte black. The card hard little writing on the surface, with details to a person name, Cilia McCoy—Becca’s grandmother. It was her business card, having her contact details and a fronting business. The vampire hunters of the old usually do their ‘business’ under the names of different business, they were surely rich, but their main works were to kill the vampire kind, ridding the earth of their pure evil, as they always called it. “No one deserves to live forever, unless you are God. But if you are not, then you are an abomination that should be wiped off the face of the earth.” He keeps the card in his pockets, as he hears Becca make a sound as though she was about to wake up. He turns his back and faces her, as he sees her red cherry between her legs blossomed beautifully, looking all pink and shiny, as the sun kisses her thigh area softly, illuminating her femininity with soft rays of the sun, blasting through the curtains.
He grumbles as he did not want to disrupt what he was doing and also in the end, waking her up, then they start to argue about her leaving or him keeping her captive against her will. The best part he thought, was to force her to make him release his fruit on her voluptuous breasts and just look at it flow down to her sex. He controls himself and turns his back on her. He looks at the bag pack again as he looks the remaining cards. Looking irrelevant to him, he tossed them over his shoulders into a puddle of water that across the room that had flowed from the bath tub into the room. He checked in the backpack and saw that there bullets stashed in there. It was fastened to the corner of the bag, almost very hidden, as it was very covered. If she was to be searched, nothing would be found, well, almost—Luke found something.
He picks it up, and almost immediately, he drops it back. There is a stinging, burning sensation he gets as his fingers touches the bullets. He remembers being shot and felt he was burning inside. This was different, it was hot, hotter than a furnace. It made him remember when he was in the center of the earth, locked away to die and revive continuously, causing him so much torture, never ending. He drops the bullets on the floor and creates a pile of it on the floor. He goes on all fours and examines the bullets. They were like the markings that the pentagram was written in. The curse, the ritual, the blood, they all came back to him now. The markings, when they climbed on his skin as he was struggling to escape the shackles, burning into his skin and tearing them apart, muscle by muscle. On both sides of the gun were engraved with red markings in Latin, “Qui bibitsanguinemhominis et ejus in die hacmetallumobumbratio,” translated as “He who drinks human blood and lives in the shadows shall die from this metal,” and on the bullets were written, “mori, mori, mortuusmori!” and translated in English as, “die, die, die, die! All around the bullets.
He shudders in fear, as he turns his back and sees Becca, as he imagined how mortal these new sets of weapons are against his kind. If she agrees to rule by his side in his coven, there may be a ruthless disorder and chaos will rain in his reign. If these types of guns and bullets are mass produced, using their witchcraft and dark magic, fully manifested on these, then his race will be wiped away. But they will be useful to him in the coming war, if he intends to take back what is rightfully his—his throne in his coven. These kind of weapons are very deadly even to him. He survived because he was not an average kind of vampire, he was of a rare breed. Like The First, Ambrogio, he was stronger than the rest of the vampires, and that was why he was restrained, captured and then imprisoned with abomination of a ritual of blood, binding themselves to him.
Any thoughts of it make him to sweat profusely. So, no, Becca is pure evil to him, her weapons is a means for an impending genocide. However, Becca and everything about her was a risk he was ready to take, and to the fullness of it.
He drops the bag in attempts to see why suddenly, he couldn’t hear the soft sounds of Becca’s breathing, he pauses. Suddenly, he feels a hot air on his back as he turns swiftly to see Becca in front of him.
CHAPTER 7
COME WITH ME
Becca stands up close to him, all cover in the bed sheets, with sleep in her eyes still, she says, “what are you doing? Are you going through my stuff? You know that is private, right?” She questioned as she used the sheets to brush in between her eye lids and nose. Still rocked with sleep and fatigue. She needed rest.
“No. I was not prying into private affairs, you are mine, everything you own is mine and mine likewise.” He said as he pulls her close to him and kisses her forehead. He pauses as he does this, this is something he never likes to do, as he never found a female he would be proud of to share a bed wit
h at night, or kiss on the head in the break of dawn, or even look at the sunlight together. No one. They will all burn at the coming of the sun. And that didn’t work for him, as he was an early morning person, and not a night person. He was unusual, as he was handsome. A rare breed of vampire.
“I want to learn and know more about you, what you are, what you can do, who you are, and how dangerous you can be, because I will need to see your ferocity someday. It will help us win this war, you and I.” He spoke, as his eyes shimmered as the rays reflected brightlyin them.
“There is nothing to know,” she said as she looked away from him, facing down. “I am just plain Becca, a young girl from Atlanta.” She added.
“I know you are a vampire hunter and you do magic. Or should I say, you are a witch. Now how is that possible?” He asked, as reaches for her chin to raise her head up to see her deep blue sea, eyes.
Slowly, he pulls the covers off her body, leaving her completely naked, and she shivers softly. The cover had hidden her beautiful curves, with her standing with a seductive stance. Becca on the other hand, just rushed to embrace him as she never even contested him removing the sheets but leaving her food for the clawing fangs of the cold morning breeze. With her breasts pressed on his chest, as his scanty curly chest hairs kissed against her silk skin, she stayed still, holding him tight, as she enjoyed the heat that came from his being. Unlike every other vampire, he wasn’t cursed to be cold blooded, but with a normal skin temperature. His skin was smooth, though stricken by centuries with no wrinkles, he was different from the vampires she had heard of. As Cilia, Becca’s Grams, always told her, “to identify a vampire, they have white pale skins, some have different abilities and you should always be careful when you go out at night,” she would always say.
Fated (Of Blood and Magic Book 1) Page 8
