Disclaimer: Gary Brandner owns The Howling. I own this fic, that's about it.
Sweet Dreams
She assures herself this time she won't fake it. She won't think of what happened back in Los Angeles, won't subconsciously mask Roy's face with the rapist's. She will give herself to her husband and enjoy every second of it.
She presses herself up against his back, her breasts pushed snugly against his shoulder blades. The feel of her already taunt nipples against his flesh causes goosebumps to rise, and he slowly turns over, wrapping her up in his arms to hold her close. He stares into her eyes, making certain she's ready this time and the night won't end in disappointment once more. Finding no trace of that glittering fear that often presents itself during the most intimate of moments, he smiles and moves onto her, placing himself between her legs.
He kisses her lips, then her neck, her collarbone. He stops his decent to tease her engorged nipples with his tongue, circling each a few times in turn before he plants a kiss on the left side of her ribcage, over her heart. She begs him to stop teasing her, Roy, get on with it, and he obliges without hesitation. It's been months since she's pleaded with him to put an end to foreplay.
He reaches up to squeeze her breasts, fingering both nipples with his index fingers, as he kisses and licks his way across her stomach. She breathes a content sigh as those kisses and that tongue wander lower still, almost there but not quite.
She asks again, even says please this time, and he breathes in the strong scent emanating from the moistness between her legs. Who is he to resist such a woman, so eager and ready?
He ducks his head, spreads her legs, kissing the insides of her thighs. He nips at her, playfully at first, then a little harder. There's a sudden, familiar chill running up her spine, alarms going off inside her mind, warning her to do something this time. But his hands are on her hips, holding her in place with inhuman strength, and his love-bites are getting to be too much. The places he bites at are beginning to become tender, and it hurts more and more each time his blunt teeth come down.
That is, until fangs are piercing her flesh, tearing it away, and her warm blood is pouring like fountain-water into his ravenous mouth. She watches in dazed horror as pieces of her fall from his jaws, splattering messily onto the sheets, and blood drips from his muzzle before he can lick it clean. He tilts his head back, eyes closing, and howls triumphantly into the night.
And she wakes, screaming at the monster that exists not here but far away in Drago. She throws the sheets aside and searches in vain for open wounds that have long since scarred over on the inside of her thigh. Chris is standing in the doorway of the bedroom, eyes wide, knuckles white against the frame, but Karyn doesn't see him as she fights off what beasts and memories linger in the semi-conscious state of mind she's in.
Sleep wears off in due time, and finally Karyn looks at Chris. He sighs, somewhat relieved, mostly out of sympathy, and makes the short walk to the bed. Sitting down, he wipes at her tears before she collapses against him, trembling and sobbing. He knows better than to ask what she saw in her dreams, because he knows. Drago, and its cursed people, haunt his dreams from time to time as well, but his slight torment is nothing compared to Karyn's. Stroking a hand through her hair in an attempt to sooth, he doesn't bother telling her it will be alright in the end; it won't be. He can't put an end to the nightmares, Roy will never come back to her, and the strong winds in the middle of the night will always seem to howl.
-End