My Vampire and I (3 page)

"Shh, shh..." He kissed me gently. "I saw you leaving your local cinema, and I followed you home. For the past three weeks, I have been ... stalking you. I think that is the expression one uses."

"Stalking me?" I was breathing a little more easily now.
"But I never saw you—not once."
"Of course not. What kind of vampire would I be if I'd let you see me before the right moment."
"And tonight was the right moment?"
"Exactly—your birthday ... and mine."
"Your birthday and mine..."
"I think I said that." He chuckled, and kissed me again.
"I'm twenty-four," I said with a deal of trepidation. "How
... how old are you?"
"Older than you ... by about eighteen hundred years."

Dear God. I almost fainted again, this time from fear. Here was I, Roger Folsom, in the arms of the most stunning man I had ever seen in my entire life, and he just had to be an 22

My Vampire and I
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eighteen hundred and twenty something year old vampire ...
give or take a couple of years.
"You look incredible," I mumbled.
"And you look scared," he said gently. "Don't be. I promise you are in no danger from me."

I wanted to believe him, even though I knew you should never trust a vampire. I mean, they'd never come off as very trustworthy in any book I'd read or movie I'd seen. They lured you into a trap with their silken voices and hypnotic eyes, then when you least expected it,
bam!
Fangs in the neck, blood sucked right out of you, thrown away like a broken doll. Yikes!

"You're trembling."

 

No kidding. His arms tightened around me, and I closed my eyes expecting any moment to feel the pain of having my throat torn out. Instead, I felt the softness of his lips on mine.

 

"Don't be afraid," he whispered into my mouth.

 

"I'm trying not to be," I whispered back, clinging to him, letting his tongue caress mine. And then we were floating again—this time I dared to open my eyes. We were hovering, horizontally, over a giant bed.

 

"How...?" I began, but his lips stilled mine as we gently landed on the softest of silken comforters. I suddenly realised we were both naked. "How...?"
Oh, shut up Roger
, I told myself.
There are no explanations for any of this, other than he can make it happen. You are totally in his power. He can do anything he wants with you. Enjoy.

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Upon that realisation, I found myself relaxing—well, as much as you can relax when every part of your body is being assailed by a gorgeous guy's caresses and kisses.

 

God, but he was good...

 

I heard myself moan under the onslaught of his lips as he sucked on my nipples. It seemed as though he was able to make them both stand to attention at the same time.

 

Jeez, howdoes he do that? Who cares? It feels ... fucking fantastic...

I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his wonderful scent.
Funny, I'd often wondered what a vampire would smell like—

decay ... the grave ... corruption? None of that here. Just a subtle blend of fruit and musk. Yummy. I clung to him, pressing my, now, oh so eager body to his, revelling in the feel of his erection throbbing against my thigh. I ran my hands over the smooth skin that covered his muscular back, and the round swell of his butt. My fingers lingered there, straying into the cleft between the firm smooth cheeks.

He moved over me, covering my chest and torso with scorching kisses that had me squirming with delight. His lips hovered over my raging hard on, then he took me in his mouth, and I almost screamed with ecstasy. This was not your regular blowjob. This was more like a religious experience. I'm not kidding. The sensations his mouth created, the sheer rapture his lips and tongue imbued within me, were feelings I had never before experienced. This went beyond all that I had ever previously known. I was transported, exulted, taken body and soul, to a plane of desire where every single fibre of my being was set on fire, 24

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every nerve ending set alight with lust and a craving for it never to end.

As much as I was willing to have this go on forever, I knew I'd explode sooner rather than later, and I wanted to return the favour. I struggled within his embrace, trying to reach that part of him that so far I had only felt. He allowed me that glorious sight now, and I gasped at its beauty. Long, thick, hard as steel, it throbbed in my hand as though it had a life of its own. I ran my tongue over the tip, licking the juice that leaked from it, savouring the slightly salty taste. He groaned as my lips slid down the length of the pulsing shaft, and I felt a tingle of satisfaction that I had pleasured him, too. I put all the questions, all the doubts and fears, on hold for the duration of our lovemaking. Nothing would spoil this—nothing could.

Now, from no action on my part, I was lying on my back, Marcus leaning over me, the sweetest of smiles on his lips, the hunger of lust in his eyes. I threw my arms about his neck, pulling him down on top of me and crushing his lips with mine. I had become emboldened—he might be a vampire and hold my life in his grasp, but I wanted him like I had never wanted anyone before. I wanted to feel that beautiful hard cock slide inside me, fill me, conquer me, make me crave for it every day for the rest of my life—for however long that might be.

"Fuck me," I whispered.
"With pleasure," he growled, lifting my legs, and wrapping them around his waist. I closed my eyes in anticipation, 25
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squirming a little and bearing down as he inserted his fingers, coated with lube, into my eager anus.
Wait,
I thought, despite my euphoria,
a condom...
"Do you have a condom?" I asked him, hoping I wasn't spoiling the moment.

"That is not necessary," he replied, smiling. "Vampires carry no diseases. Just relax." He kissed me tenderly as though to dispel my fears, and I let him lift me onto his thick, slick, throbbing erection.

 

Mother of God! I wanted to shriek as his rock-hard flesh thrust into me, setting my sphincter muscles on fire. My eyes shot wide open, my body arched in protest, yet I clung to him, holding him in what would have felt like a death grip to a lesser man.

"Aaa-aahhh!" The cry that escaped my lips caused him to pull back slightly.
"Am I hurting you?" he asked, with what sounded like genuine concern.
"Yes but don't stop," I gasped, feeling the head of his cock slip past the point of resistance. "It's getting better now. Yes ... mmm ... feels good."
And it did. Damned good. So good. I sank farther down into his lap, driving his cock deeper inside me, filling myself with his hard pulsing flesh.
Oh yes,
I thought.

"Oh yes," I yelled at the top of my voice, and a great shout of laughter escaped his lips, as he drove his rigid member into me, each thrust stronger than the one before. He held me to his chest, his mouth devouring mine, and I rode him 26

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like the proud stallion he was. He laid me on my back, pulled my legs up over his shoulders, and I was entranced by the incredible sight of his muscular body towering over me, his beautiful face caught in the throes of ecstasy.
There can never be another time like this
, I thought.
Nothing else will ever compare with what I'm feeling—what I'm seeing, now. Every other sexual union will fade to nothing in comparison.

He held my erection in his big hand, bringing me to the threshold, to the point of no return. I gasped as I felt my orgasm churn in my balls. The rhythm of his thrusts had gained momentum. I had the most incredible sensation of him holding me, both his arms wrapped around me, yet his hand still around my cock, propelling me towards my climax.

I let my head drop back, and that's when I realised we were floating again. Our bodies had levitated off the bed, but I had no time to wonder about it as I felt him spasm inside me. He came with a great shout of joy, his semen flooding my intestines with a fiery blast, his hand forcing my orgasm from me, in a series of mind blowing jolts.

"Oh, my God," I gasped, feeling again the silken comforter beneath me. "That was the most incredible..."

One of his fingers on my lips stilled my words. I got the hint. He wanted silence and he was right. There were no words to truly describe what had passed between us, so I shut up and snuggled against him, kissing his shoulder with a murmured apology. His arms tightened around me, and I melted in his embrace, my mind filled with countless emotions.

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What now?
I wondered as my mind cleared. I lay pressed to him, his lips touching my ear, my flesh warmed by his steady breathing. Was this just a passing fling, a moment of passion, never to be repeated? Would he discard me like some unwanted trophy? Would he let me leave this place alive?
After all,
I thought,
he is a vampire.

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28
My Vampire and I
by J. P. Bowie

Chapter Three
"You worry too much." His words in my ear made me jump. He rolled off me, propped himself up on his elbow and smiled down at me, a slightly feral light in those beautiful green eyes.

 

Uh, oh ... Here is comes. The moment when he says,
"Sorry, but I need your blood to sustain me."
I studied his teeth. No sign of fangs, thank goodness. His fingers traced a circular pattern across my chest.

 

"You must not worry, Roger," he said, his voice low and husky—and incredibly sexy. "I told you, you had nothing to fear from me. No harm will come to you—unless you wish it."

 

"Wish it?" I squeaked.

 

He chuckled. "There is a price to pay for continued dalliance with a vampire." His fingers paused over my left nipple, squeezing it gently. I writhed under his touch.
More,
I thought,
more—Wait ... a price to pay?
I sat up in bed.

 

"What kind of price?" I demanded. He pushed me back down and kissed the tip of my nose. "What kind of price?" I repeated, my voice a great deal weaker than before.

 

"Well, let's say you wanted to spend the rest of my life with me—notice, Roger, I said the rest of
my
life. That means you would have to become a vampire, too. In order for that to happen..."

 

"I know, you have to take my blood and have me drink yours," I said, taking his hand, and placing it back on my chest. He continued playing with my nipples. Mmm ... nice.

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"Very good. You've studied the lore."
"And I've read Ann Rice," I said, grinning up at him. "Is there an alternative?"
"Yes. If you wanted to stay with me for say, only two, three hundred years, there is another way."
"Two or three
hundred
years?" I gaped at him. "That's about three or four human lifetimes, you know."
He nodded, smiling. "But only about a tenth of the time I expect to live on this earth."
I looked at him, serious now. "That's an awfully long time to live. Don't you tire of it?"
He lay down beside me, his lips touching my temple, and he sighed, a long unhappy sigh. "There was a time I longed for death..." I sensed a sad story coming up.
"Tell me about it," I murmured, turning my face to his and kissing his lips gently.
"All of it or just the Reader's Digest version?" He smiled again, and I punched his arm playfully.
"All of it, of course. Every little detail."
"That would take a lifetime. More time than you have left, I'm afraid."
I shivered at his words. Did that mean...
"I told you, Roger," he said, reading my thoughts again.

"You have nothing to fear from me. Time alone is your enemy." He pulled me closer to him. "But I am not being a very good host. Can I get you something to eat or drink—a glass of wine, some brie, perhaps?"

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Now that he mentioned it, I was hungry. All that activity earlier had given me an enormous appetite, but I didn't want to break the spell that surrounded us.

 

"I won't be a moment," he said, sliding out of the bed.

 

I watched as he moved with athletic grace to a cabinet on the far side of the room. The candlelight picked out the musculature of his finely honed physique, the twin globes of his butt, the corded muscle of his thighs...

I felt my groin grow hot at the sight.
Wow,
I thought,
two or three hundred years of looking at that every night...
But what the hell would
I
look like in three hundred years?
Marcus turned, smiling at me as he removed a crystal decanter and two glasses from the cabinet. "You would not age at all," he said. Darn it, he really could read my mind. This could get embarrassing.

"Don't be embarrassed," he added, padding back to the bed, treating me to the glorious sight of his semi-hard penis, swinging majestically between his muscular thighs.

"Eventually, you would be able to read my mind, too."
He poured some red liquid into one of the glasses and handed it to me.
"What is it?" I asked, a trifle warily, sniffing at it.

He sighed. "It's wine, Roger. A delightful Pinot Noir from a renowned California estate. I have found, over the years, that California really does produce some of the best wines in the world."

"Really?" I sipped a little. "Mmm ... it's good." I looked at him over the rim of my glass. "Happy Birthday, Marcus." To 31 My Vampire and I
by J. P. Bowie
have added "and many more", would have seemed a tad redundant.
He smiled back at me. "And to you, sweet Roger—and many, many more."

We laughed together. "So, you can drink wine," I remarked. That famous line from Bram Stoker's
Dracula
came back to me ... "I never drink ...
wine
."

"You must not believe
everything
you read about us,"
Marcus said, chuckling at my thoughts. "Crosses, mirrors, garlic, holy water ... all of that is superstitious nonsense. Mr.