And now...a delicious excerpt from 'Blood Born'. This scene is continued from Chapter 1, leading into Chapter 2. You don't need to read the original story to enjoy this, but you can check it out if you're curious. Enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.
Mature content! Please do not read if you can't handle it. This is your ONLY warning. Doesn't that make you curious enough to read it anyway? ;)
"I touched her thigh and death smiled." ~Jim Morrison
"Don't mind the mess. I haven't cleaned up since my roommate left." She apologized.
Her contrived insincerity kept me from waving away her inadequate hosting skills. She noticed my disgust towards a cereal bowl tipped over on the night stand, covered in maggots and mold, and quickly covered it with a newspaper.
"I'm just gonna clean myself up a bit." She flirted.
I scanned through her thoughts as she walked towards the bathroom. I had to be sure.
If I had known that bitch was going to off herself, I would've made her clean her fucking mess up beforehand.
"So what's your name?" she hollered through the bathroom.
"Edward Cullen."
Maybe I was being egotistical, but I had a feeling she wouldn't tell anybody of our rendezvous. It felt good telling the truth, so I liked to tell one at every given opportunity.
She laughed, "Who the fuck names their kid Edward anymore?"
I smirked; looking around at the untidiness around me, "My parents were very pretentious people,"
Much hasn't changed over the years when it came to prostitutes. Sure, drug use was still fairly common, but the women gradually became a lot less considerate of their upkeep.
To be a little more precise…the woman was a complete fucking slob.
God only knows what the hotel had in store for me when I walked in. It looked like a damn hurricane annihilated this room and I almost believed I'd be better off choosing one of the other unfortunate harlots lingering in the city streets. Clothes were entwined with empty beer cans and fast food bags; though her gaunt structure would obviously tell you otherwise. I really tried not to seem so disgusted toward the clutter, but an overwhelming stench of stale beer and cigarettes tempted me to just break her neck and get it over with.
Didn't want to even imagine what that bathroom looked like. Good thing I had no reason to use it.
My attention turned to the nightstand where I could see a stack of medical bills, mostly from abortion clinics and some cocaine residue tainted on the edge of the table. She stumbled out of the bathroom with a dazed look in her eyes. It was quite obvious she had done some sort of substance and I confirmed it by reading her jumbled, illegible thoughts. I'll really have to stick with my guns now on this one.
"Want a beer?" she slurred, peeling my coat off and dropping it at the edge of the bed.
I shuddered at the reminder of the odor, "No, thank you."
She was stunned at my answer, most men never said no, but disregarded it anyway and lit up a cigarette. Even though she was blaming her room mate, it was no surprise who that smell was coming from now.
"So what are you looking for?" she breathed through a puff of smoke.
Her bruised leg thoughtlessly crossed over the other as her hand dangled in the air with the burning cigarette. She was a little more nervous than what she was showing.
"Does it matter?" I teased, sitting next to her.
She smiled, "Of course it matters. That's why you're here, isn't it?"
Sex wasn't the first thing that controlled my mind, but that's not the same as saying it never did. The fragility of a human body usually shatters within seconds—often before I even get the opportunity to experience a full hard-on. Sometimes I played around with the idea anyway when I got bored of the 'natural' ways of executing my meal and I've learned my lesson well enough to show up completely prepared; stimulation need not apply.
The girl raised a brow, "Look I don't have all night babe. So what's it gonna to be?"
Without a warning, I slid to the middle of the bed and pulled her on my lap. I suppose I could've lavished her with poetry, maybe even a compliment or two, but this was strictly 'business' and empty words would only stall me from getting what I really needed.
Besides…I'm not much of a talker.
I lifted up her skirt and pulled her panties to one side, grazing her sensitive spot with my middle finger. She jumped a little, probably from the difference between our body temperatures.
"Hey, hey, hey!" the girl spoke between trailed kisses from my neck to my lips, "Don't you at least like to talk dirty—or want a blowjob—or anything?"
"No." I muttered coldly, continuing on with my business.
I needed to feel her heartbeat; my own personal foreplay. I cupped her throat and pulled it closer for the sake of impatient contact. The percussion of her pulse hummed against my lips, sending me into overdrive and coating my mouth with venom. She let out a desperate sigh which broke me from my thoughts. It was then that I noticed my hand was still working beneath her.
In synchronized movement, her sweltering hands reached down and unbuttoned my pants, pulling the erection from my jeans and between her thighs in quick, shallow breaths as I lay her on her back in a dominating reaction. My embrace then wandered, caressing her boldly. She moved into my contractions despite being startled by the chill of my touch. My hands then moved more freely, venturing to the pulse that maddened her, causing the pleasure to swell and throb.
Death and desire swirled through my mind as I mounted her as a lion would both its mate and prey. She let out a desperate gasp and clenched my shoulders as soon as impact had fully occurred with basic instinct taking over my thought process. I kept my focus on her hitched inhaling, because as soon as she stopped breathing – the game was over. I'd have to zip it up and continue on with the same routine.
I hung onto these thoughts, slowly pulling in and out of her body, continuing focus on her breathing. When I gained a bit of confidence in myself, I began to thrust a little quicker in pace, causing more friction. This was the hardest part.
She turned her face up to mine, but her half-felt protest became a moan of surrender as I drove my mouth down on her neck with a hungry embrace which splintered her senses. I couldn't contain myself any longer; my lips retracted to reveal my sharp incisors. I dug into her throat and planted the kiss of death upon the nectar of my foreboding fruit. She felt caught in the current of some incredible magnet, unable to draw away and stop her body from responding as I tasted her.
Inattentive, indulging moans escaped from either of our mouths, both for different yet comparable reasons, causing my excitement to cluster even more. She wrapped her frail arms around my neck when I crushed her body to mine. I heaved in and out of her and held her impossibly closer. Fear began to swell as she was realizing that something was not right.
"Slow down," she whimpered, "slow down!"
Numb from the venom, I selfishly ignored her demands and continued like I wanted to as soon as her pulse slowed to a dull tempo. I expelled into her body and released her from my deathly vice.
I did it. It took a lot of effort, but I did it.
It wasn't until I fully released her from my grip that I noticed that not only was I wrong, but I had failed completely. She slumped against the headboard with a hollow thud. There she was, lying in front of me in a chaotic mess, tangled hair covering her face – utterly lifeless.
"Shit," I spat, pulling myself away from her legs that were still loosely wound around my torso.
I tried to make it my primary goal to keep her alive until I could finish off. Though it never usually happens, I still like to dream big.
Now, the annoying part of getting rid of the body.
To read the rest of 'Blood Born', please visit my page and click the link in 'My Stories'. Thank you.