Blood Play

by TWBB

Waking up naked in a strange bed is bad enough. Waking up naked and tied up in a strange bed is worse. Even worse than that? Waking up naked and tied down in the bed of the Vampire that wants to eat you.

The first thing I noticed was the pillowy softness—it felt like I was floating on a cloud.

The second thing I noticed was the silky smoothness caressing every inch of my skin.

The third thing I noticed was that I couldn't move.

The last realization had me blinking in confusion, which is when I noticed that there was something over my eyes. Focusing on my head, I realized that was one part of my body that I could move. As I turned my head from one side to the other, I could feel something bulky pressing into the back of it; there was something tied around my eyes. I was blindfolded.

That was when the first tendrils of panic began to flutter around in my stomach.

As my breathing quickened, I tried to force myself to stay calm by focusing on the relaxing technique Charlie had taught me years ago to help me sleep.

Starting at my toes, I tried to relax my body muscle-by-muscle, focusing on one body part at a time. Curl the toes. Relax. Clench the feet. Relax. Flex the ankles, feeling the restraints tighten around them.

What the fuck?

The panic I had been trying to keep back erupted full-force then, leaving me squirming and panting as my body's fight or flight response kicked in. Neither was possible of course, but logic means nothing in the face of pure adrenaline and I continued to struggle even as the rational part of my brain insisted that it was useless.

Even though panic had a firm grip on my body, that small rational part of my mind was busy observing and cataloguing all the small details it could, trying to find something that might help me to understand what was happening to me.

I was naked and laying on my back on what was probably the world's softest, most comfortable bed. There was some kind of cover over the top of me, likely a sheet judging by the nearly nonexistent weight of it. My arms were stretched over my head, wrists tied together with some kind of strap extending up out of reach of my fingertips; presumably tied off to the headboard. My legs were spread, with ties around the ankles holding them wide apart. Whatever material had been used to tie and blindfold me was soft and smooth against my skin, but quite strong and without even the slightest bit of give. The restraints were snug around my wrists and ankles, but not tight enough to be uncomfortable or to interfere with my circulation.

I had been stripped naked, tied down and immobilized, but some care seemed to have gone into making sure I was not hurt or uncomfortable. The dichotomy gave me something to focus on, and I was able to quiet myself enough to consider what this might mean.

Obviously, being naked and tied up was not good. Mucho Grande not good. Best not to dwell on just how very NOT GOOD that part was, and try to focus on something that might help.

(But you're naked.)

I had been covered up, and I wasn't sure how that meshed with the naked part. Moving on.

The fact that my ties were snug without being tight, that my legs were spread but not painfully so, that whatever the restraints were made of slid smoothly along my skin instead of chafing it, all pointed to the possibility that whoever had done this to me didn't intend for me to be hurt.

(But you're NAKED.)

Perhaps the blindfold was so that I couldn't identify my surroundings later. Maybe they were going to let me go.

(BUT YOU'RE NAKED!)

I felt the panic trying to make a reappearance, so tried frantically to think of something else, to make sense of how I came to be in this position in the first place. What was the last thing I remembered before waking up here?

I realized that I had no frame of reference to work backward from; so instead I tried to remember this morning, but there was nothing special to grasp a hold of. I got up. Went to school. Went home. Jess came…

Port Angeles. Dress shopping. Bookstore.

Suddenly images started flooding through my mind. Port Angeles. Jess and Angela. The dance. I wasn't going, but I helped Jess and Angela pick out dresses. Books. I wanted to find a bookstore, so we split up. Meet up later at the restaurant for dinner.

The bookstore Jess told me about was weird. I tried to find another one. Wandering around town. Heading south toward some storefronts, but they turn out to be vacant. For Lease signs. Too early to head to the restaurant, so I wander aimlessly.

Warehouses instead of shops now, I went too far south. Think about turning around; decide to circle the block instead. It's getting dark. I hear footsteps. Walk faster. Turn the corner and realize my mistake. Now I'm behind the warehouses. Fences. Locked gates.

Footsteps are closer now, faster. Hurry to the corner and turn. No streetlights. I don't realize it's a blind drive to the back of another building until it's too late. Turn around to hurry back, but the footsteps are turning the corner now. Close. So close. I see them now. There are 4 of them. They see me, too. Realize that I have nowhere to go. They slow down, fan out slightly. Nowhere to run. Nobody around to hear if I scream.

I try to think through the panic, to remember any self-defense moves I may have learned. Nothing. I have nothing. Wait. There was a movie once. It was stupid, I wasn't really paying attention. But I remember one part—heel of the hand to the nose. Shove it into the brain. I'm probably not strong enough, but maybe I can break it. Then run. They're more spread out now, closer now, surrounding me. One is closer than the others. The one in front of me is closest. He's between the road and me. Maybe I can break his nose, run for it. I fall down a lot when I run, but it's my only chance. I brace myself, feet apart. He's closer now, almost close enough.

Things get fuzzy after that. I remember screaming. Not mine. It hasn't been a windy day up till now, but suddenly I am buffeted by one strong gust after another.

I closed my eyes tightly behind the blindfold and tried desperately to bring it into focus; I knew that this was important. This was what I needed to remember.

Blood. I don't see it, but I can smell it. Rust and salt, and suddenly I'm so dizzy. I slump to the pavement, breathing through my mouth, trying not to be sick.

Silence. Somebody standing in front of me. Shiny black shoes. Not one of the men from before. The smell is stronger now. There are drops of blood on the shiny black shoes. I close my eyes. Then I'm flying.

My breath caught on a sob, and suddenly I was utterly terrified. My concern over my nakedness now seemed insignificant and trivial. What was a little nudity when compared to violent, bloody death? Because I remembered the screaming; I remembered the blood. I was not leaving this room alive.

The cloth over my eyes was wet now, and my teeth were clamped over my lower lip as I tried to control the cries threatening to choke me. My entire body was trembling, my breath coming in gasps.

I heard a door close in the distance.

I froze. Listened.

Nothing.

Another door closed, this one closer.

Much, much closer.

"My apologies for having left you alone for so long; I wanted to be here when you woke up, but there were some urgent matters that required my attention."

The voice dripped over me like warm honey, sizzling along my nerve endings and causing me to shiver under the light sheet. I hadn't heard so much as a footstep, yet the voice was coming from right next to the bed I was spread out on.

"Don't worry, though. Everything is taken care of now, so the remainder of our time together should be uninterrupted."

It had only been a second, but this time the voice came from across the room. I whipped my head toward the sound, an instinctual but useless act since the blindfold prevented me from seeing anything. There was the merest whisper of displaced air against my ear as he whispered against it. "You're trembling, love. Are you chilled? Would you like for me to start a fire in the hearth?"

There was a faintly mocking undertone to his velvet voice now, and I realized that he was toying with me, playing my reactions and emotions with an expertise that terrified me. I understood that this was what he wanted, my fear, my terror, but I couldn't control it. I couldn't help but remember the screams, the blood, and a small cry escaped my lips before I once again clamped down on my bottom lip with my teeth. I felt a sharp sting, and registered the sound of a hiss at the same time that I felt a brush of air against my face and tasted the coppery tang in my mouth. I fought off the nausea that threatened, holding my breath and desperately listening for a clue as to where he was now.

At first there was only the sound of my heart frantically thumping in my chest. Then a low, strained chuckle from the foot of the bed startled a short scream from me.

"Silly little lamb, are you really so impatient to move things along? Well, if you insist…"

With that the sheet covering me began to move, caressing my skin as it slowly slipped down my body. The feel of it dragging across my nipples was like nothing I had ever experienced, and a light gasp escaped me before I could stop it. The low chuckle came again, less strained this time but still with a discernable tension underlying it, as the sheet continued its slow journey down, revealing my pale skin to him inch by inch.

Finally I lay there, bare and vulnerable before him, and I could feel the blood rush to my skin as I blushed more deeply than I ever had before. He groaned softly, whether from my nudity or the blood pooling under my skin I didn't know. All humor was gone now, and the tension laid thick and heavy like a blanket over the room. My breathing was heavy and labored, the fear still there but now licking around the edges of something else, something I didn't understand.

I knew I should be terrified, but I was so off balance by now that I no longer knew what I was supposed to be afraid of anymore. I didn't know why I was here. If he wanted me dead, wouldn't he have done it in the road where he found me? Where he had most likely killed the 4 men who had been stalking me? Why go to all the trouble to bring me here first? There was the obvious answer, of course. But somehow I believed that there was more than that. Just what I couldn't say, but I was sure that there was, indeed, more to me being here than just the obvious reasons.

I jumped as much as my bonds would allow when I felt an icy-cold touch against the bottom of my left foot. It slowly traveled down and over the heel before tracing the restraint around my ankle. I thought I heard a low hum of approval before the touch slid its way up my leg to the inside of my knee. It lingered there for a moment before lightly making its way up my trembling thigh, stopping again to brush back and forth across the joint of my hip. What began as one fingertip became 4 by the time his touch reached my stomach, and they swirled softly around my navel before traveling up my breastbone. They edges of his hand brushed the insides of my breasts on its way up, causing my nipples to tingle as they tightened even more. I was panting as he softly traced my collarbones, before closing his hand around my neck. There he stayed, my jugular and carotid arteries fluttering and pulsing under his touch. I lay there, paralyzed with fear as his fingers pressed into the skin under my jaw with enough force to bruise. Was this it? Was I going to die now? His hand was like cold steel against my throat, and I instinctively knew that with one squeeze, one twist of his wrist, he could end my life.

I felt his breath against my cheek first, followed by cold hard lips as they coasted up my jaw line.

"Lovely little lamb, do you realize your danger, I wonder?" his soft velvet voice murmured against the shell of my ear, followed by a dark chuckle. "Oh, perhaps you think you do. I can feel your heart racing, smell the fear coming off you in waves" he was growling now, honeyed voice low and rough and menacing. Frissons of electricity ran through my body, from my outstretched fingertips to my toes, causing me to shiver and gasp as his hand tightened almost imperceptibly around my neck one last time before releasing it.

"Tell me," his voice was more serious now, the mocking edge gone momentarily. "Tell me what you're thinking right now." I didn't really understand what he said next; indeed it was muttered so softly that I could have been mistaken about what I thought I heard. "I thought the silence would be refreshing, but not knowing is driving me insane."

I couldn't understand what I was feeling, wanted to scream out my confusion, beg and plead for him to tell me what was happening to me. I was afraid—so very afraid—but also more. More what, I didn't know. All I knew was that I was shivering uncontrollably even though my body felt not just warm, but almost overheated. I sparked and tingled every time his breath wafted across me, every time his cold touch brushed my skin, every time I heard his voice. What was wrong with me? What had he done to me?

"Isabella!" His commanding tone, along with the shock of hearing my name on his lips for the first time, caused my head to jerk toward him as I tried instinctively to look at his face. I could feel his face very close to mine, as if he was trying to see my eyes through the veil of the blindfold. I breathed him in, and was nearly undone by the sweet smell of his breath as it mingled with my own.

"Tell me, Isabella", he crooned softly. "Tell me what you're thinking. Tell me what is going through that intriguing little brain of yours to make you tremble so." His lips were so close that I could feel them moving a hairsbreadth away from my own, and I was incapable of forming a coherent thought. At the same time, I was also unable to resist his command, and my lips formed whispered words without benefit of conscious thought.

"Fast…Strong…Cold." I could almost feel his confusion; it matched my own. Part of me didn't really understand the words that were spilling from my lips, but there was another part that quailed in terror, screaming at me to shut up. But I couldn't. And as my lips formed one final word, the rest of me made the connection, the terrifying, bone-chilling, impossible, connection.

"Blood."

There was shocked silence, broken only by the trip-hammer thudding of my heart. Neither of us was breathing, although I suspected now that only one of us needed to. When I felt his hands on the sides of my face the breath I had been holding whooshed from me noisily before I dragged another into my aching chest. Slowly, gently, his hands moved up the sides of my face until they met the cloth of the blindfold. Slowly, gently, they lifted it up and over my head. Slowly, gently, they brushed the hair away from my face.

"Isabella, open your eyes."

His voice commanded me, and even though it was the last thing on Earth I wanted to do, I was helpless to disobey. Slowly they fluttered open, blinking repeatedly as they tried to adjust to the sudden dim light after being in the dark for so long. His face came into focus, and my breath once again stopped in my throat.

He was beautiful.

Devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful.

His was not a face you would never expect to see outside of the airbrushed images in a fashion magazine, or perhaps sculpted by an old master as the face of an angel—or a Greek God. Alabaster white skin; sharp jaw line; pouty red lips; perfectly sculpted cheekbones. His hair was a messy mop of bronze, some of the too-long locks tipping forward over his forehead, nearly covering his eyes.

His deep crimson eyes.

"How?" His musical voice was hard, wary. For the first time I felt like I was hearing the real him, and not some character he was playing for my benefit.

"My dad's best friend is Billy Black. His son Jacob is about my age, so we've been playing together practically since we were born."

He still looked puzzled, as if trying to figure out how this was answering his question, so I continued.

"Billy Black is one of the Quileute elders." I watched as his confused expression froze in place. "I've been hearing Quileute legends all my life. When we were young, some of the older kids used to tell us the scary ones, trying to frighten us like bigger kids will do. There was one…."

"Go on," he said.

"About vampires."

His face was unmoving, a seraphic image carved in stone. Only the red eyes staring deep into mine gave away the demon inside the angel. After several minutes he began to speak in a cool, even voice that I hadn't heard from him before, his eyes boring into mine relentlessly.

"You know then, you won't be leaving this room."

I felt tears threatening again, and blinked them back furiously. I couldn't force words from my throat, so merely nodded. Of course I knew this. I had known ever since I remembered the screaming, remembered the blood.

"I can end it now, if you want. I can make it quick and painless; you will barely feel a thing."

This took me by surprise, and I tore my gaze away from his to look up at my hands bound above me, then down toward my feet. When I looked back to him he had to have seen the questions written plainly on my face, for a small smile quirked up one side of his mouth for the briefest instant.

"No, that's not what I had planned at all, but I find that circumstances have conspired against me in this instance. It's amazing what the human body is able to endure when one has hope; now that I have taken that away it seems only fair to give you the option of quitting the game early, so to speak."

I couldn't speak, couldn't think. His red eyes seemed to burn right through mine, as if he was trying to look straight down into my soul. I felt myself growing somnolent under his stare, my own eyes trying to droop closed as my body relaxed into the soft bed underneath me. It would be effortless to give myself over to slumber, to take the easy out that he was offering. Painless. He promised it would be painless, and that sounded like the best deal I was going to get. My lids slipped closed as I let out a sigh, feeling sleepy and lethargic as I drifted toward blissful unawareness.

Then his icy fingers ghosted across my cheek, sliding under my jaw to tilt my head up and to the side, and the same electric current I had felt before fired through my body at the point where he touched me. With a sharp gasp my eyes flew back open and I was finally able to force a word past the soccer ball lodged in my throat. It was barely a whisper, but of course he was able to hear it clearly.

"Wait."

Licking my lips, I focused on my breathing as he hovered above me, waiting to see what my next move would be. He held all the cards, all the power, and had all along. He may have intended that I never realize the hopelessness of my situation, but that didn't change the fact that the game was rigged and I was always going to be the one who lost. Yet still...he was offering me a way out. Maybe this way was better after all, because now I had the choice I wouldn't have been offered otherwise. Whether I chose quick and painless, or...not so quick (and, I assumed, not so painless), it would be just that—my choice. And I didn't intend to make that decision until I had a few answers.

"Just wait."

He sat up, no longer leaning over me, no longer touching me; still staring at me, but this time with a slightly frustrated look on his previously impassive face. Not as if he was upset, but rather as if I was a puzzle that he couldn't put together because it was missing essential pieces.

"What's my other option?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You offered quick and painless, but you never did say what the other option was. It's hard to make an informed decision when I feel that I'm missing some necessary information. So, I'm just wondering; if not quick and painless, then what?"

Now he actually looked flustered, as if I had surprised him and he didn't quite know what to do about it. "What do you mean, then what? If quick and painless is one of your options, then why would you even want to know what the others are? What does it matter?"

"It matters because it's my life! And before it ends I want to know what I'm missing! I've barely even lived, and now it's over, and if you planned on torturing me, or dismembering me, or something equally painful, then tell me! Tell me, and I can pick the easy way out, and know that I made the right choice. But you went to a lot of trouble to bring me here, to set this scene, and before you went all noble and shit, I was starting to feel things I didn't even know were possible. And if that's what I'm going to be missing out on then I don't want quick! So just…just lay it out for me. If you're going to give me a choice, then for God's sake give me a choice."

He had been perfectly still during my rant, and stayed that way for several seconds after it was over—just watching me with an inscrutable expression on his perfect face. Then he seemed to make his decision, as before I could blink he had moved from sitting beside me to hovering over me again, this time straddling my middle as his hand trailed up my arms to my bound wrists. Wrapping his hand around both wrists, he leaned forward until his face was inches from mine, his eyes burning flames that scorched and sizzled wherever they touched.

"You want to know what I had planned for you, little lamb?" His free hand traveled up and down my arm, from my shackled wrists down to my shoulder, then back up again.

"Should I tell you all the things I want to do to you? All the different ways I want to make you scream?"

Suddenly his face wasn't above mine anymore; his nose was traveling up my arm, following the same route his hand had mapped out just moments before. When he reached my wrist, his cold tongue came out to taste the skin just below the binding around it, making my body shudder as the now-familiar electric currents radiated out from the point of contact. Suddenly there was a sharp sting as one of his nails sliced into the tender flesh, making me cry out in shock. The pain increased as it was joined by a sucking sensation as his mouth latched on and took several slow pulls. With my head tilted back I could see his throat moving as he swallowed again and again, and I whimpered in discomfort. His tongue came out again, laving the skin, and this time my whimper had nothing to do with pain of any kind.

His nose was retreating back down my arm, inhaling deeply as it went, until he was nuzzling the skin under my ear, his tongue coming out to taste the bruises forming underneath my jaw. "That, my love, is what I want from you. What I intend to take from you." His teeth nipped at my shoulder, the sharp sting soothed immediately by a swipe of his tongue and I couldn't keep back the moan that escaped me. "Everywhere" he breathed against my lips just before he bit down on the lower one, right where it was still raw from my own teeth abusing it earlier. My sharp cry was lost in his mouth as his tongue once again laved over the tiny injury, stopping the blood and sealing the small cut. "All night long" he murmured as his nail sliced a trail across one of my breasts. The pain was sudden and intense, and this time he didn't lick immediately. Instead he watched as one of his tapered fingers swept through the blood welling up and spilling out of the long cut, spreading it around and over the white skin. I tried not to breathe, but it was a wasted effort since I was practically panting by this point. My head began to spin as the scent hit me, but suddenly my body was arching and singing as his tongue swept over my breast, licking and sucking everywhere but the two places I most needed it. He steadfastly avoided my nipple as he cleaned all traces of blood off my mound before finally licking the still-seeping trench he had laid open.

He started to move his bloody finger toward his mouth, but stopped and looked at it for a moment before moving his eyes to my own mouth. Slowly he pressed his finger to my lips, parting them and forcing it deep inside, swirling it around and rubbing it against my tongue. Suddenly his lips were on mine, his tongue in my mouth, sweeping along my teeth and rubbing against my own as his hands wrapped themselves in my hair, holding my face immobile against his. His tongue retreated back into his own mouth, pulling mine along with it, and I felt a light sting as his teeth glided across it. Then he was sucking on my tongue, lapping at it with his own, and my whole mouth was tingling in a way I had never imagined possible. He slid his tongue back into my mouth, and we both moaned as I returned the favor, sucking on it and massaging it with my own. I wanted to tangle my fingers into his messy hair and pull his face even closer to mine, but my hands were still immobilized and I could only lay helpless beneath him as he mauled my mouth with delicious abandon.

I gasped for breath as his lips left mine to trail hard kisses over my chin and down the column of my throat. He moaned low and deep as he felt my pulse beating away under his tongue, and sucked a small bit of skin into his mouth for a moment before pulling away.

"You belong to me, Isabella. Your blood, your body, your pleasure, and your pain…I own it all. And I'm going to take it. I'm going to take everything, over and over again, until you have nothing left to give. So tell me, little lamb. I can make it all end, but you have to tell me now. You won't get another chance."

And I would like to say that I didn't know what to do, that I struggled with the choice given me, agonized over which path to choose. But that would be a lie, because the decision was already made, long before the question was ever asked. I was his from the moment he first touched me.

"No" I breathed out. Still he didn't move, and I squirmed underneath him as I tried to clear my head enough to form words that would make him understand. "More" I finally managed, and when he remained motionless above me I let out a quiet sob as I threw my head back, offering my throat up as I pleaded. "Please…more."

Then I was screaming as trails of fiery agony carved their way from the base of my throat down to my stomach. My screams tapered off into choked sobs as an icy hand repeated the movement, soothing the burn even as it pulled at the torn flesh, at once gentle and cruel. I could feel blood, thick and hot as it ran down my stomach and dripped over my ribcage.

Then his tongue…oh God…his tongue was lapping up the blood that was pooling in my navel, slow and deliberate as it traced one small stream after another back to its source. My stomach trembled and my lower body twitched involuntarily, and he let out a low growl as his hands gripped my hips and held me still as he continued to create icy trails across my skin.

I was so focused on the feel of his mouth that I almost didn't even notice the pain anymore, until that magical tongue began to slowly lick and lave its way up one of the burning lines running down my sternum. Slowly, so very slowly, he moved up my body, taking a bit more pain away with every light caress of his tongue. His cheek brushed the inside of my breast as he moved up my chest; I gasped as a tendril of his shaggy hair tickled my nipple, shooting a jolt of electricity straight down through my abdomen.

As he finished with the first wound and moved back down to begin on the second, his hands slowly began to slide upward, thumbs caressing softly as his palms followed the curve of my waist and inched up over my ribs. They reached the outside of my breasts just as he finished with the second line and moved down to start on the third, his thumbs still sweeping back and forth gently as with each pass they just barely brushed the edges of my aching nipples.

I was writhing as he started on the fourth and final path upward, what little bit of pain that was left no match for the delicious sensations his hands and mouth were causing. Just as he reached the top of the last cut and sealed it shut with a final light flick, he moved his hands one last inch and I cried out as for the first time his thumbs dragged all the way across my nipples.

Lifting his head, he watched with hooded eyes as his thumbs rubbed over my peaks again and again, causing my head to thrash from side to side and my back to arch, pressing me more firmly into his hands. I couldn't stop myself from yelping as he bent forward and lightly licked a pebbled pink tip, then pinched it gently as he repeated the action on the other side.

The area between my legs was throbbing now, and my hips writhed as I instinctively tried to rub my thighs together to relieve the ache. The bonds around my ankles prevented such actions, however, and I mewled in desperation as the sensations built to a fever pitch when I felt a cold mouth close over my hardened peak and start sucking.

His hand was busy with the nipple not in his mouth, pinching and rolling it between long fingers before pulling gently. I was ripped from my blissful stupor when he sliced the tip open with the same thumb that had been bringing it intense pleasure just moments ago, and his mouth abandoned its mate to latch on and greedily suck.

Pain and pleasure intertwined so closely together that I couldn't separate the two, couldn't do anything except shudder and cry out an endless litany of pleas, to God and to Him, my own personal demon.

Finally he swiped his tongue across my throbbing nipple before releasing it from his mouth with an audible 'pop'. Slipping a hand behind my head, he buried it in my hair and yanked my head backward, causing my neck to arch painfully. "God's not here, little lamb. It's only you and me tonight, and we've only just barely begun".

Suddenly he was gone from above me, and my dazed eyes searched the room until they found him at the foot of the bed, his burning gaze tracing my splayed legs and twitching hips. A devious smirk curled up the corners of his mouth as his crimson eyes lifted to mine. "Such a pretty picture you make, love." His hand reached out and fingered the rope tying my ankle to the bedpost. "Yet, as alluring as you are laid out like this, it doesn't quite work with what I have planned next. I think a few slight adjustments are in order."

As much as I wanted to see what he meant by adjustments, I had to close my eyes tightly against the feeling of vertigo as he blurred around the room. Seconds later I felt my feet being pulled up high, and my eyes flew back open to be met by the sight of my legs spread in a wide V as they pointed straight up into the air. Confused, I looked at the material that led from my ankle upward and over a piece of wood seemingly suspended in midair. My eyes traced its path as it stretched across the width of the bed, curved around another piece of wood, and continued down until it ended in a knot around my other ankle.

What the...?

Looking once again, I realized for the first time that I was lying in what looked to be an antique canopy bed. Since the moment he had removed the blindfold, I had been so focused on him-his perfect face, his voice, the things he was doing to me-that I hadn't noticed anything at all about the room around me. I looked around now, vaguely curious about my surroundings, but the dim light faded out quickly once it passed the edges of the bed and most of the room was ensconced in the darkness of a cloudy winter's night. What light there was came from 2 small sconces on either side of the massive headboard, and the subtle flickering told me that they probably held actual candles instead of electric light bulbs. For a few moments I wondered why somebody would have a canopy bed without any canopy or drapes or anything on it, but then I looked at the knot around my ankle again and made the connection. Oh, no wonder it felt so smooth and silky against my skin. Probably silk drapes, or something similar. Not rope. Nice improvisation.

A slight movement caught my attention, and I looked down to the foot of the bed again to see Him standing there framed between my raised, spread legs.

And oh Holy Christ, he was naked. He looked more than ever like he just stepped down from Mount Olympus, sheer perfection carved in marble by God himself, because surely no mere man could create such beauty out of cold stone. I wanted to admire his perfectly sculpted chest, his chiseled abs, the lean line of his hip and strong muscles of his thighs. But I couldn't, because my eyes wouldn't tear themselves away from the part of him that jutted out, strong and proud and long and hard and just...just...

Beautiful.

Perfect.

Mine.

One could almost mistake him for an angel, except angels didn't have glittering crimson eyes that stared at you with such hunger and want that you thought you would literally burst into flames under their intense regard. Angels didn't climb up onto beds and place themselves between the raised and spread legs of the girl that they had kidnapped, stripped, and tied up for their pleasure. An angel wouldn't smirk as his hand brushed up the curve of this girl's ass until his fingers were dancing across her inner thigh, inches away from the scorching heat that threatened to spontaneously combust if he didn't press his cold touch to it soon.

And an angel most certainly wouldn't lower his head, crimson eyes never leaving wide brown ones, until his face was mere inches away from the juncture of her thighs. He wouldn't breathe in the scent of her arousal and growl softly, then turn his head and place his tongue to her inner thigh. He wouldn't slide that tongue up her leg slowly, all the way past her knee, along the curve of her calf, finally stopping once he reached the binding at her ankle. And most of all, he wouldn't look directly into her eyes as he used the nail of his first finger to open up the tender flesh just under that binding.

I didn't cry out this time, even though it burned like hell. He pulled his eyes from mine, and we both watched in fascination as the red streams slowly made their way down the wet trail he had laid along my leg. Watched as they passed the curve of my knee and swept down my inner thigh. Watched as they pooled at the base of my leg and began to drip down toward the curve of my buttocks. Then I was the only one watching as his mouth captured them before they could go any further, watching his face between my legs as his tongue swept across my skin mere inches from where I needed it to be, watching as his eyes came back up to meet mine and his mouth sucked lightly at my flesh. My eyes kept trying to close under the weight of my heavy lids, but I forced them to stay open because I couldn't miss this. He was so beautiful, and the things he was doing to me were so beautiful, and when he moved back up to my ankle and licked and made the pain stop and kissed his way back down my leg and lapped up all the little crimson drops and finally made it back down to the joint of my hip and then farther and when his tongue finally found my lips it was so so so beautiful.

I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore, and let my head fall back onto the bed as I moaned at the feel of his tongue slipping between my outer lips. Lightly it licked at the entrance to my opening before slipping inside and beginning a rhythmic in-and-out motion. "Oh, yes" he murmured against my heated flesh, "sweet little love, everything about you tastes so delicious." His magical tongue slipped upward and I couldn't hold back my cry as it swept over my clit for the first time. He made a sound of approval and repeated the motion, then wrapped his lips around the little nub and sucked it into his mouth. Whimpers and cries fell from my lips as he continued to alternately suck and lick at my bundle of nerves as his fingers drifted back and forth across my entrance. My entire body was shaking, trembling on the precipice of something huge as a tingling unfurled in my stomach and radiated outward through my arms and legs. Then he slipped a long finger inside as he sucked hard on my clit and flicked his tongue back and forth over it, and I screamed louder than I have ever screamed before as every muscle in my body clenched down before exploding outward. Dimly I was aware that I was twisting and writhing in my bonds, my legs held so wide apart that the feeling just kept going on and on as his face stayed pressed tightly to the apex of my thighs, tongue frantically working me over as a second finger forced its way inside. Again I screamed as before I could even come down from my first orgasm a new series of detonations had me convulsing once more. His fingers continued to thrust inside of me even as his mouth withdrew, and half a second later I felt his teeth sink into my inner thigh as he sliced through my femoral artery and began to drink.

Pleasure more intense than I had ever imagined possible, followed by the excruciating agony of his teeth slicing through my flesh as easily as if it was butter, had sent me into a kind of shock. I could hear the sounds of his growls as he fed, burrowing his face more deeply into my leg as his fingers continued to thrust. Then his thumb reached up to circle my clitoris, causing my whole body to jerk in reaction and his teeth to clamp down even tighter in my thigh as he snarled. I was crying now, my face wet with tears as I sobbed helplessly in pain and fear. This was it. I could already feel the lightheadedness setting in, see my vision darkening around the edges. The heat from my orgasms had faded, and I could feel myself trembling from cold and reaction. I tried to block out the pain in my leg and focus on the pleasure his fingers were still bringing as they slid in and out of my wetness; to ignore everything but the feeling of fullness and friction and the deliciously painful touches of his thumb against my engorged clit. If I was going to die now, I at least wanted the last thing I felt to be pleasurable. I was thankful to him for at least giving me that.

Then his teeth released their grip on me and his tongue laved over the entire area, taking the pain away at once. I whined when he pulled his fingers out of me, but forgot about them when I felt him pressing against me. "Isabella, look at me" he breathed. Unable to resist, my eyes found his as his hands grabbed hold of my hips and lifted them off the bed. With one strong thrust he was inside, tearing through my innocence and seating himself deep within me. His jaw clenched as he immediately pulled back and surged forward again, setting a fast rhythm as his gaze bored into mine.

The initial pain faded almost immediately, soon replaced by the now familiar clenching in my stomach as he drove into me again and again. His hands on my hips gripped tightly enough to bruise as his pace increased until he was slamming and pounding into me, face twisting into a snarl as his red eyes burned into mine.

"Please" I panted as he heaved between my thighs. "Please...I need...please... Oh, God...more...please".

"Yes!" he rasped as he leaned forward over my body, the new angle allowing him to grind against my clit with every thrust. His hips snapped forward with enough force to drive me deep into the bed with every thrust, his hands now gripping the mattress on either side of my head and his face only inches from mine. "I love hearing you beg.," he rasped out, each word punctuated by a hard thrust. "Love the way you plead so sweetly." He was moving impossibly fast now, hips pounding an erratic tattoo against me. "Love watching you come for me" and I arched my head back and cried out my release as I clenched down around him.

My orgasm went on and on as he rode me through it, finally burying his face in my neck as he thrust a few final times before holding himself deep inside and groaning with his own climax.

I was drifting in exhausted bliss, vaguely expecting to feel his teeth imbed themselves in my throat now that he was finished. I didn't care; I always knew how this would end, and could only be grateful to him for giving me the most pleasurable night of anybody's life-ever-first.

I was surprised, then, when instead of his teeth at my throat I felt my legs and arms being released from their bindings and the stiff muscles gently rubbed down. I felt a confused frown pull at my face, and his laugh was almost...tender? "Poor little lamb, you still don't realize your danger, do you? You may think you do, but you would be wrong." His lips pressed cold kisses against my exposed throat as his arms gathered me up and held me cradled close. Soft words murmured against the hollow of my throat made no sense, so I didn't even try to understand them as I drifted. "No, your real danger is that now that I have finally found you, I just may never let you go."

The last thing I felt as I drifted into unconsciousness was the sting of his teeth as they slid into my neck.