Authors: Todd Gregory
Need (3 page)
“Your ass is amazing,” he whispered, tugging on my nipples and sending even more electricity through my body. “It feels so goodâplease don't stop.”
I smiled. The pleasure was so intense I couldn't stop even if I'd wanted to. I reached down and stroked his chest, and his entire body convulsed, bucking upward. The thrusts were strong, intense, and it felt as though I were being split in two.
I cried out, my head going back as he continued driving up into me. My entire mind was being consumed with the pleasure from his cock, which felt as though it were burning inside of me. No one had ever fucked me this way, not Jean-Paul, not any of the others in our little fraternity of vampires. The passion, the powerâmy eyes began to lose focus, and everything in front of me seemed to be seared with white, and I was vaguely aware that he was forcing me backward, never stopping with the thrusting, not once relenting, and the pleasure, my God, the pleasure, and I was on my back and he was on top of me, and in the mirror behind him I could see his powerful back, the fleur-de-lis tattoo on his right shoulder blade, his beautiful round white ass clenching and unclenching as he drove into me, as though he were trying to get his cock so deep inside me it might never come out, and I wanted him inside me, I wanted to feel his entire body consumed inside of mine, and I wanted the thrusting and driving to never stop. . . .
And his lips were at my own throat, moving from the base of my chin to the hollow where my neck met my chest, his tongue darting out and dancing against my skin.
And it went on, the pleasure building inside of me until I could barely stand it any longerâ
And his head went back and he screamed as his body went rigid, and I could feel him squirting inside of me, his body convulsing and racking with the pleasure with each spurtâ
And my own splashed out of me, raining onto my chest and my face and into my hair.
He convulsed a few more times before collapsing on top of me, his energy spent.
I lay there panting for a moment or two, enjoying his weight and warmth on top of me.
His breathing became more shallow and even, and I gently pushed him aside, feeling his softening penis slide out of me. I slid out from underneath him and gently rolled him over onto his back, staring at his beauty as he lay there in the soft glow of moonlight coming through the stained glass just above the front door of the house.
The wounds on his neck had reopened, and blood was oozing from them again.
I grabbed a towel and wiped myself off, then bit the tip of my index finger. I rubbed it over the wounds, but once again, the wounds in his neck did not close.
But the hole in my finger did.
I don't understand. It has always worked. What is wrong? What is so different about this time that the wounds will not close?
He started murmuring in his sleep, tossing a bit on the couch.
I walked over to the front windows and opened the red velvet curtains a bit, looking at the house across the streetâthe house where I'd almost died, a victim of the desires of the mixed race witch, Sebastian, and his thirst to combine the power of the vampire with that of his own witchcraft. I closed my eyes and remembered being tied to the bed while Sebastian violated my body and went through the mysterious ritual I had not understood until Jean-Paul and the others had come to my rescue. I remembered the feeling of dying, of my body going cold as Jean-Paul wrapped me in a blanket and carried me out of the house and back across the street, and the metallic taste of his blood as he fed me in order to save me.
I tried to remember if my own initial wounds from him had closed that first night he had fed from me, that night when I'd run into him and his friends at Oz while the madness of Carnival raged in the streets of the French Quarter.
Perhaps I'd taken too much from him. Maybe that was why the wounds wouldn't heal. Jean-Paul and the others always warned me about taking too muchâbut they never said why.
I started to turn away from the window when something flickered in one of the windows across the street. I spun my head back, but whatever it had been was no longer there.
Now you're imagining things. There's no one there. The house isn't habitable yet.
Jared moaned in his sleep, and I walked back over to the couch. I knelt beside him and marveled again at just how beautiful he was.
I had never let him know about my secret desire for him. Never, and I had always been so careful around him. And he'd always,
always,
been very clear about his own sexuality. If he'd even been the slightest bit curious, he would have told me. And there were any number of times we'd been wasted together, stumbling back to the room together with our arms around each other, and nothing had happened.
always,
been very clear about his own sexuality. If he'd even been the slightest bit curious, he would have told me. And there were any number of times we'd been wasted together, stumbling back to the room together with our arms around each other, and nothing had happened.
Then why did he . . . It doesn't make any sense. Was a connection of some sort forged between us when I took his blood? His life force? There's so much I still don't know about all of this. Jean-Paul was rightâI should have stayed in Palm Springs with him and the others.
I reached over and stroked his brow. He shifted again, and his eyes opened. I recoiledâthey were no longer blue, but rather brown.
He smiled at me. “Sebastian does not rest, Cord.”
My hand froze on his forehead. “You don't know that, Jared. You couldn't possibly know that.”
How does he even know about Sebastian in the first place? And what is wrong with his eyes?
How does he even know about Sebastian in the first place? And what is wrong with his eyes?
His eyes closed and he moaned. When they reopened, they were clearly blue. I must have imagined what I'd seen. Besides, it didn't make any sense. Eyes couldn't change color like that, could they?
“I don't feel so good,” he barely whispered as I started stroking his forehead again. “What . . . what have you done to me, Cord?” He shifted again on the couch. “So cold, so very, very cold.”
I allowed my other hand to come up and press on the jugular vein in his throat. The heartbeat was weak and faint.
I've killed him.
I felt tears rising in my eyes.
I raised my wrist to my mouth and bit into the artery there. As my blood began to flow over my skin, I lowered my wrist to his mouth.
I heard Jean-Paul's voice in my head.
You are too young to this life to create another such as ourselves. Your heart isn't strong enough yet, so you must never ever try to turn a human until such time as I tell you that you can.
You are too young to this life to create another such as ourselves. Your heart isn't strong enough yet, so you must never ever try to turn a human until such time as I tell you that you can.
But he would die unless . . .
“Drink,” I whispered, parting his lips and allowing my blood to run onto his tongue.
Jared's eyes opened at the first taste of my blood, and color began to return to his cheeks. He closed his mouth around the holes in my wrist and began to suckle.
I closed my eyes and allowed my head to fall backward.
Whatever the risks, I had to take them.
C
HAPTER
2
HAPTER
2
I
gasped in pleasure as his lips closed even more tightly over my wrist.
gasped in pleasure as his lips closed even more tightly over my wrist.
At first, there was simply a little bit of suction against my skin that made the hair on my arms stand up. It felt like nothing more than a simple kiss, Jared's lips pressing against the inside of my wrist as foreplay. He was hesitant at first, but when my blood began to flow, it awakened a need inside himâa need I knew all too well, the desire to consume as much as he possibly could, to drown in it. His eyes closed and a low growling moan vibrated in his throat as his mouth worked. His tongue lapped against my skin, teasing me, and I closed my own eyes as the intensity of an extraordinary pleasure washed over me from head to toe. Every nerve ending in my body tingled, goose bumps covering every inch of my skin as my cock began stirring to life again. My nipples were hard and sensitive.
I lost myself in the pleasure.
This pleasure was even more seductive than feeding from the warm neck of a beautiful young man.
I had no memory of Jean-Paul feeding from me during that Mardi Gras. It seemed so long ago, but it had been only a couple of years. A little more than two years since I ceased to be human, since I walked away from my life, my family, and my closet. There had been many pleasures in the time sinceâbut nothing like this. This was addictive, dangerous.
No wonder humans stopped resisting when we began to feed from them.
If this was how it felt to have someone drink from you, it was a wonder they didn't line up to feed us.
It also was a wonder there weren't more vampires walking the planet.
Another wave of ecstasy radiated from my self-inflicted wounds as his mouth began working on me, the heat spreading up my arm to my shoulder and into my brain. It felt like I was catching on fire. The burning sensation traveled through my body with each breath I tookâand the air itself seemed intoxicating. A ball of fire moved up and down, back and forth through my body. A thousand little pins and needles were piercing my flesh, and I heard myself gasping, gulping in more air that seemed somehow thicker, richer, taking me higher than I'd ever felt before.
I went up onto my toes as each beat of my heart pumped another spurt of my dark blood into his mouth, and I felt his tongue licking at my skin so he wouldn't miss a drop of it, as it nurtured him, changed him, turned him from what he once was into what he was going to be, into what I was. I tried to resist the pleasure, to remain in control of my mind, heart, and bodyâbut it was too much for me. I wasn't strong enough, physically or mentally, and I doubted anyone would have been. I was experiencing pleasure in its purest form, an animalistic pleasure that spoke to my atavistic core, until I finally surrendered to its insistent demand for obedience. There was no way I could resist, no way I could stop even had I wanted to.
So I stopped resisting the pleasure, the sheer joy of how it felt to have him feeding from me, drinking from my veins, and allowed it to take me, consume me, and I heard the moan come from deep inside me and explode out through my mouth.
I brought my free hand up to touch my hard nipple and an electrical current went through me. My body shook, convulsed, and trembled. I couldn't catch my breath and simply gasped air.
I felt like we were connecting in some primal, instinctual way that felt so right, like our souls were mating and coming together, like I was becoming him and he was becoming me, and together we were becoming something else completely.
But even though my mind was so deeply lost in animalistic pleasure, there was still a sense that there was something important that I couldn't grasp, something I'd missed earlier, but before I could try to focus, the pleasure electrified me again. My entire body went stiff as his mouth's grip on my wrist somehow became even tighter, and I gave in to it again, let myself go, and hoped that I would remember when it was over.
The only thing that mattered now was the pleasure.
My other hand brushed against his forehead, which was hot and damp with sweat. I opened my eyes and saw the rivulets of sweat pouring down the side of his face. His hair was wet and slick, and his eyes also opened, locking on mine, and I almost lost myself in the beautiful deep blue of his eyes.
It was like drowning.
I love you so much, Cord. Thank you for this. We'll be together forever, always together, just the two of us, and I will love you forever.
And again a thought danced through my headâ
this is wrongâ
but it was gone in an instant as he brought one of his strong hands up to my crotch, his thumb teasing the head of my cock, until a drop of precum leaked out, and he kept rubbing his thumb over it, toying with the slit, and I didn't want him to ever stop.
this is wrongâ
but it was gone in an instant as he brought one of his strong hands up to my crotch, his thumb teasing the head of my cock, until a drop of precum leaked out, and he kept rubbing his thumb over it, toying with the slit, and I didn't want him to ever stop.
Ever.
I wanted to feel this ecstasy forever.
Our shadows danced across the ceiling as my eyes half closed. The light of the chandelier flickered briefly, as though there was some kind of power surge. I moaned again, an involuntary sound of pleasure as my head went back and my blurred vision tried to focus on the ceiling.
I could feel my cock getting even larger as my blood pumped into it, growing long and hard and strong with every beat of my heart, an urgent need for release radiating from my balls, which were beginning to ache.
And still his thumb rubbed over the head.
I almost whimpered.
I'd never felt such pleasure before. I'd never felt anything like this before. This was better than getting fucked, getting my cock sucked, or fucking someone. My years with Jean-Paul and his fraternity had taught me sexual delights I'd never dreamed possible, even in my wildest dreams and fantasies back when I was in my fraternity closet back at Ole Miss looking at gay porn on my laptop late at night in my room. They taught me positions and activities that made my eyes roll back into my head and forced animalistic howls to escape from my throat as they drove me nearly insane with the unimaginable pleasures they'd spent centuries seeking out, learning, and perfecting. Almost every night it had been something new as they initiated me into the world of vampiric desire and pleasure, each night instructing me in a carnal knowledge that left me spent and exhausted and panting on the bed or the floor or the mat or hanging from whatever device I'd been attached to.
But all of those nights combined were nothing compared to how this felt.
I wanted Jared to keep sucking my blood forever and to never, ever be sated. I wanted his need for my blood to be as powerful as my need for him to take it from me. I wanted him to never remove his mouth from my armâto always be there on his knees before me in supplication, need, and desire, as my blood changed his into something else, transformed his beautiful body, turned him from being merely human into something ever so much more than he ever dreamed possible.
I felt like I was transforming from a vampire into a god, because I was feeling the joy of creation.
This must be what God had felt like when he created life, the universe, the planets, the sun and the moon and paradise, the animals and birds and trees and plants. How had God stopped, if the story I'd been taught from childhood, had been drilled into my head, was in fact the truth?
If this was creation, the rush God must have felt on each of those six days must have made him drunk.
No wonder he'd rested on the seventh day, collapsing onto his couch, spent and exhausted and panting from the exquisite pleasure and pain of creation.
Had it been like this for Jean-Paul when he created me, when he took me from my old human life and made me what I am now?
Dear God.
There was no drug or intoxicant that compared to this.
During my years with Jean-Paul, I had tried everything he'd given to meâEcstasy, cocaine, marijuana, crystal methâstimulants whose addictive properties we vampires were immune to, but these drugs still altered our states of consciousness. Jean-Paul claimed we felt them even more intensely than humans could, as we experienced everything with a much higher degree of intensity than they didâwhich made me pity them all the more. Wasn't it sad enough their bodies aged, withered, and died, but they couldn't even experience pleasure as intensely as a vampire?
It hardly seemed fair. . . .
Ecstasy was my favorite of them all, of courseâthe joy of warmth glowing from within, of feeling beautiful and wanting to touch and be touched, of feeling music wash over my body and get inside my very soul until I was one with the beat, with the lyrics, with the emotion, of dancing in a crowd of incredibly beautiful men until the sun came up, of feeling like the night could, should, would, last forever.
But this . . . this was
better
than Ecstasy.
better
than Ecstasy.
This was a pleasure I would never tire of, a pleasure I wanted to go on forever.
This pleasure was seductive, addictive.
Both of his strong hands came up, grabbing hold of my arm so tightly he almost pulled me down on top of him. I closed my eyes and somehow regained my balance as yet another shudder of joy wracked through my body and my brainâpushing every thought out of my head other than how incredibly magnificent his lips felt against my skin, and I could hear the thundering beat of my heart.
I could feel pressure building inside of my balls.
I started bouncing up onto my toes.
I opened my eyes as my breath started coming in gasps.
I opened my mouth to say
I love you,
but I couldn't get the words out around my panting breaths.
I love you,
but I couldn't get the words out around my panting breaths.
I smiled hesitantly down at him, and our eyes met.
What I saw in his eyes in that moment sent a chill through me.
His eyes were
different.
different.
Jared had always had dark blue eyesâbut the eyes that were looking up at me, full of lust and desire, were brown with golden flecks.
I hadn't imagined it that first time.
What the hell?
I'd seen eyes like that beforeâ
Sebastian.
But he was
dead. . . .
dead. . . .
Another wave of pleasure pushed everything out of my mind.
He'd said Sebastian was still alive.
But that wasn't possible.
My mind flashed back to that horrible night.
I was tied to the bed, completely helpless and at the mercy of a crazy man, a man who was not just a man but was also a witch and was working a powerful spell on me, a spell with an evil purpose. He was a beautiful man, such a beautiful man . . . and then Sebastian began sucking my cockâremember? Remember how that felt? I remembered the feeling of another consciousness inside of my head, filling my thoughts, almost as though determined to take over my mind and my body while Sebastian worked his magic on me. I was helpless and at his mercy; there was nothing I could do. I was tied, spread-eagle, each wrist and ankle to a different post of the bed, and I called for help, and help finally came before it was too late, before Sebastian could drain my body of its blood entirely, the blood that was already starting to change from whatever it was that Jean-Paul had done to me the previous night. Sebastian was going to kill me and drink my blood. Jean-Paul had taken some of my blood, but he'd given me his vampire blood to drink in return, and that had started to change me. All day long the sun had bothered my skin and hurt my eyes, and a connection had been forged between our minds, and it was that connectionâthe connection of our commingled bloodâthat allowed us to communicate in our minds together. Sebastian wanted to combine the power of a witch with that of a vampire and it could not be allowed . . . so all of them, the entire fraternity of vampires headed by Jean-Paul, they came to my rescue and murdered Sebastian, burned the house down with his body and that of another inside, gave out the story that I'd somehow died in the fireâI don't know how they worked the dental records and so forth; all I knew was there was another corpse in the house with Sebastian's and it was positively identified as me and I was deadâfree to live my life as a vampire, free to escape from my old life and begin anew.
I opened my eyes with a start.
There was that feeling again, inside of my mind.
Someoneâsome
thingâ
was trying to get inside of me.
thingâ
was trying to get inside of me.
And it wasn't Jean-Paul this time. I knew how Jean-Paul felt, recognized the feeling when his mind entered mine. We'd connected many times over the past few yearsâand it was a comforting feeling when his mind joined with mine, whether it was across a crowded dance floor while music blared from speakers or on an airplane as we traveled to yet another of the endless circuit parties we always seemed to be going to.
This was someone elseâand despite the pleasure still radiating from where his lips were locked onto my wrist, the heat was burning out and turning cold.
I looked down into Jared's eyesâthe eyes that weren't Jared's. The corners of his lips curved up into a smile even as he maintained their pressure on my wrist. One of his hands let go of me, sliding down and closing again around my hard cock. He began stroking me slowly, his hand moving back and forth slowly, and my eyes closed again.
Other books
Murder on the Rocks by Abbott, Allyson K.
Orphans of Earth by Sean Williams, Shane Dix
Tom Swan and the Head of St. George Part Four: Rome by Christian Cameron
Deadside in Bug City by Randy Chandler
Stars & Stripes Triumphant by Harry Harrison
Midnight Surrender: A Paranormal Romance Anthology by Abel, Charlotte, Cooper, Kelly D., Dermott, Shannon, Elliott, Laura A. H., Ivy, Alyssa Rose, Jones, Amy M., Phoenix, Airicka, Kendall, Kris
A Sister to Honor by Lucy Ferriss
Love and Lists (Chocoholics) by Tara Sivec
Small Crimes by Small Crimes
Disappearance by Niv Kaplan