Okay, first of all, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to all who reviewed. You all literally made me so happy.

This chapter is shorter than the other two but hopefully still satisfying.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAIN EXPLICIT NON-CONSENSUAL SITUATIONS!

If you don't want to read it, I have marked when it begins and where it ends.

Thanks!

He had come early that night, his anticipation running too high to wait until exactly nine o'clock. He'd snacked on a particularly tasty young woman Monday morning around 3am just to tide his hunger, but nothing compared to his Lucy's blood. Her taste was irresistible and he craved it with every bone in his body. His fangs ached at the mere thought of her and his claws threatened to lengthen with the thrill of the hunt; he had been unable to stay away from her Monday evening, even if he didn't actually interact with her.

Midnight smirked at the memory. He'd smelled her fear; she'd known almost immediately that he was there, watching her. Their Tuesday night rendezvous couldn't come soon enough in his opinion and therefore, he was outside her window at eight, watching her silently from an inconspicuous perch on the tree outside her house.

For once, she didn't notice that he was there and it was fascinating to watch her act normally.

Well, perhaps not normally. She was fretting, pacing back and forth in her room and gnawing on her plump bottom lip as she obviously tried to think of a way to evade him. Her blood was calling to him, tempting him with every passing moment, and it grew harder and harder to resist showing up early.

Then, fifteen minutes before he was to reveal himself, she suddenly stopped pacing and her face lit up as though struck with an ingenious idea. He raised an eyebrow curiously, wondering what exactly she had come up with that made her think she could possibly escape him.

It became clear when she gathered her phone, wallet, and purse, tightened the scarf she'd intelligently wrapped around her neck, slipped on her shoes and left the house, locking it soundly behind her.

She thought that by not being present when he told her to be there would get save her, hm? That was foolish and so very, very naïve. She was his now; he'd decided to keep her alive, something that he'd never done before. Did she really think that such a simple tactic would change his mind?

He almost laughed aloud at how ridiculous the notion was as he leapt down from his perch on the tree. She was interesting, he had to admit, despite her foolishness.

She was walking quickly, too preoccupied with getting away to notice him heading her way. Once she had gotten off the street and was passing the gate, he sped up and stopped directly in front of her, unable to stop his smirk when she shrieked in fear at his sudden appearance.

"Going somewhere?" he asked smugly. Her breath caught in her throat and she simply stared at him in pure, unadulterated horror.

When she said nothing, he took a step forward, to which she quickly took several steps backwards. Then, "I'll scream," she whispered. "They'll see you and they'll lock you up. Leave me alone." Her voice was pleading, even though she probably didn't mean for it to be.

"Good luck with that," he replied nonchalantly. "Even if they could catch me, it's your friend's funeral, not mine."

She paled visibly, all the blood draining from her face. Without thinking, she took another step backwards.

Satisfied, he walked past her in the direction of her townhome, deftly grabbing her wrist as he passed her with the intent of dragging her back. Lucy let out a muffled whimper but made no more efforts to scream, although he had to yank her along at times when she tried to slow the pace.

"Please," she said softly, "Please leave me alone." Her voice was so quiet that if it hadn't been for his sharp hearing, he wouldn't have heard her.

"I've gone to too much trouble for you," he replied, and it was the only answer he was going to give. She whimpered at the response and he could smell the salt of her tears marring the sweet scent of her blood. He almost wanted to tell her to stop crying, but he knew that it was a futile command.

They reached her home quickly enough and he released her, motioning to the door and implying for her to unlock it. With trembling hands she did so and he could tell that she was tempted to slam it in his face before he entered. He corrected this unwise attempt by slamming his palm against the wooden panel as it swiftly began to close and shooting her a threatening glare, at which she blanched and hastily hurried all the way inside. He followed her, making sure to lock the door behind him. If she tried something so daring as to run, locking the door would only serve to be one more thing to slow her down. From her wary glance at the door when the lock clicked into place, he knew she understood the reasoning behind his actions.

She didn't have the chance to outrun him anyways, but part of the hunt was the mind games and they were his favorite.

"Did you really think that running would serve any purpose?" he asked with mild interest as he made his way into her living room and took a seat on her navy blue couch, easily making himself at home. She stood stiffly by the kitchen a good few yards away from him, watching him with guarded, fearful eyes.

"I had to try," she responded at length and her words held a good deal of conviction. He raised his eyebrows and smirked scathingly.

"I suppose you did, didn't you?" he replied in a tone that required no response. She said nothing for a long time, but when she spoke, her next words genuinely surprised him.

"If you're really a vampire," she started uncertainly, "then all I can think of is that you're here for my blood." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing with more strength in her tone, "So why don't you get it over with?"

He was shocked into laughter, the audacity and gall of her attitude pleasing him immensely. She looked disconcerted at his response, which slowly bled into fear when his laughter died down and his eyes narrowed contemplatively.

"Unfortunately for you, we vampires can have interests other than food," he replied, smiling coldly as he observed her body. She wasn't wearing her blue waitress uniform, having changed into a conservative red top and form-fitting gray sweatpants.

She jerked backwards at his implication. "No," she spat angrily. "No! I won't be some-some toy for you!"

He smirked viciously. "At what point did I give you the idea that you had a choice? If I so chose it, you have none."

Lucy took a large step away from him when he stood. "No! I refuse! Get out of my house!"

His smirk widened as he took notice of her heaving chest, but he said nothing in response. He began to advance on her and immediately, she was dashing for the door.

It only took a mere second before he was pressing her up against the wall, her back to his chest. She screamed but he quickly wrapped a clawed hand around her mouth, muffling her desperate cries.

She fit so perfectly against him, her rear pressing teasingly into his groin and her generous breasts forcing her back to arch against his chest. Midnight couldn't resist burying his nose into her hair, inhaling her delicious, intoxicating scent. She hadn't stopped screaming and her thrashing was incessant, but he ignored those factors in favor of gently grasping her throat, stroking the soft skin with his claws.

She stilled at the touch, the soft puffs of air from her nose tickling his hand even as it seemed she was holding her breath.

"Delicious," he murmured into her ear, nipping the lobe with a single fang and drawing the slightest amount of blood. Lapping up the little droplet, he felt a sudden surge of bloodlust—it proved harder to contain that he would have liked, but in the end he was able to force it down in favor of relishing the moment.

He yanked her away from the wall and she immediately started thrashing again, kicking and screaming and pulling at his hand to stop it from muffling her screams as he dragged her further into the house.

Despite all this, he was easily able to maneuver her in such a way that she was led to the couch, however unwillingly.

With deft precision he dropped her, following quickly to force her to stay prone on the blue furniture.

"Get off me!" she hissed, shoving at his chest, but there were tears in her eyes even as she tried to push him off her. "Get off me!"

Ignoring her commands, he covered her mouth again and used his body weight and muscle to force her to stay still, pinning her wrists together with his other hand and pulling them above her head. While she was not particularly weak for a female human, her struggles were futile against his superior strength.

"This doesn't have to be difficult," her murmured once she had finally been strong-armed into submission. "It could actually turn out to be…quite enjoyable for the both of us." His eyes glinted hungrily.

Lucy only glared at him, making a futile effort to knee him in the groin. Effortlessly he spread her thighs at their junction with his knees, entirely disarming her, and ground his hips against hers; at the display of his arousal, all at once the façade of anger turned into true fear and tears were spilling from her eyes. Suddenly fascinated by the wet trails streaming down her cheeks, he leaned down and licked the length of one of the tracks of her tears, finding the salty taste not totally appealing but not particularly unfavorable, either.

He found he wanted to touch her, explore her body with more fervor than he had anticipated, but with both hands occupied it seemed it would be a difficult endeavor. Midnight was aware that should she scream loud enough and for a long enough period of time, she might actually be able to attract unwanted attention and so allowing her to make that noise wasn't ideal.

The solution to his problem came easily enough. Glad that for once he had worn a belt, he momentarily uncovered her mouth and removed the leather garment. She screamed loudly, her panic giving her new, almost unbearable volume, and he quickly the cinched the belt tight around her wrists, forcing her arms behind her head in such an angle that it would be difficult to use them.

"Get off me! Get off me! Let me go, you perverted freak!" she yelled angrily, desperately. He ignored her, gladly covering her mouth once again and quickly moving on to more important activities.

Savoring the moment, he fondled her large breasts through the thin fabric of her shirt. They were full but perky and he found that he rather liked the feel of them. Wanting to see more, he shredded through her top easily until the front was ripped thoroughly and her breasts, barely contained by the skimpy lace bra she wore, bounced free on display.


-begin explicit content-

His groin tightened uncomfortably at the sight of her heaving chest combined with the intoxicating scent of her fear filling the air. Pulling the bra aside, he ignored the way her breath hitched in terror and latched onto a pert bud, laving his tongue over the peak until her nipple stiffened. There was an interesting flavor to her skin; it was much like the taste of her blood, but somewhat more floral. Interest growing, he nipped at her bared flesh with a fang, drawing blood. She let out a muffled cry of pain as he pulled the droplets of crimson liquid from the small puncture wound, but his bloodlust was quickly growing and it was becoming more difficult to hold back.

At length he pulled away from her, making quick work of the bra by snapping it down the middle. He was fully ready to taste her blood again and forget all about his sexual urges—its taste had removed all thoughts of physical lust from his mind—when a memory, unbidden, came to his mind.

'Nothing tastes better than blood after an orgasm,' his comrade, a vampire named Cobra, had once told him. Midnight had never considered going to such effort to for the sake of food, but with this half-naked young woman he'd claimed as his own lying beneath him, he wondered if it wouldn't be such a bad idea to find out.

Mind made up, he grasped the waistband of her sweatpants quickly and shoved them down to her knees. Her screams somehow became louder despite his hand and she renewed her efforts to fight back. It was growing tiresome, this struggling, and he finally had had enough.

"Keep fighting and I'll happily mangle that pretty friend of yours," he hissed, irritated by her fighting. When Lucy refused to listen and continued screaming, he elaborated. "She had such nice blue hair…is it natural? Because it would be a shame if she didn't have a head anymore. Such beautiful hair, going to waste on a dead person."

At the final, very emphasized words, Lucy's eyes widened almost comically at the threat. When her struggles ceased and helpless tears flowed as a sign of her surrender, Midnight ripped through her panties, baring nearly her entire body for his perusal.

"I trust you'll have the intelligence to stay quiet," he said, the threat barely hidden. She only closed her eyes, but when he removed his hand her lips stayed pursed together tightly even though she couldn't stop the low whines coming from the back of her throat.

He decided that was as good as it was going to get.

Midnight spread her lower lips and rubbed her hot core slowly, gently. She stiffened beneath him, her body trembling from the weight of her fear and disgust. He could smell it on her; she was repulsed by his actions. It didn't matter though; he knew from past experience with these situations that the body could betray the mind very easily.

At random intervals, he used his claw the tickle her sensitive nub. The first time, she couldn't help but jerk at the touch, but soon after she found the willpower to control her reactions. She was breathing more heavily, although she was still not aroused by his actions.

It didn't matter. He had all the time in the world. Barely an hour had passed since their return to her home; he had plenty of time to get all the reactions he wanted out of her.

Then, suddenly, her hips jerked in response to his hand. He couldn't help the wide smirk on his face; he smelled it at last. It was faint, but the result was clear; she was becoming aroused and the sweet scent had his groin tightening uncomfortably.

He sped up the motions, paying special attention to her clit. The scent strengthened and he relished it in; her arousal was almost as sweet and tempting as her blood. He could feel slickness growing from her core and once he deemed her wet enough, he slipped a single clawed finger inside of her.

She whimpered and he knew it was one of pain. She was tight, so tight—but she was also slick and pliant, her heat warming his cool fingers almost unbearably. Within a few quick movements he'd found the bundle of nerves that would be her undoing and soon she was panting despite herself.

Watching her breathe haltingly and feeling her small, involuntary jerks against his hand, Midnight couldn't help but feel that he'd made a very good choice by choosing Lucy as his.

This wasn't supposed to be happening.

He was touching her where she'd never been touched before, where she shouldn't be touched by him. Her breasts still prickled in revulsion from where he'd run his hands over them, even though her nipples were stiff from his ministrations.

And oh, god, he was inside her.

But despite her disgust towards him, despite that he was sick, blood-drinking freak of nature, she was aroused. Pleasure sparkled through her abdomen as he tapped her bundle of nerves with his finger and rubbed her clit roughly with his thumb, his black claw occasionally sending an unwelcome jolt when it touched her just right. She made sure to keep her eyes closed, unwilling to be a witness to any of this even though she was an—unwilling—participant.

The pleasure was building, heading quickly towards a crescendo that she couldn't stop, and it infuriated her. How dare he violate her like this? And yet for all her disgust for him and her situation, the unwanted arousal kept rising and rising and soon she knew that at any moment, she was going to burst.

Instead, she couldn't stop herself from screaming when he forced a second finger inside her.

His claw had cut her and it hurt but then he resumed his pace. She tried to ignore his light panting above her just as she tried to ignore the sensations building within her. It was proving impossible to fight, however, because even though she was being stretched uncomfortably and even though he had nicked her with his claw, she felt the pressure building, and then-

Lucy couldn't stop the strangled moan that passed through her lips just as much as she couldn't stop her hips from bucking as she came, hard, onto his fingers. The resulting chuckle was pleased and smug and she couldn't stop the angry tears that leaked from her eyes even as she rode out wave after wave of intense pleasure, sucking in labored breaths as she orgasmed.

He removed his fingers from her dripping core and there was a pause. Morbidly curious, she peeked at him through shuttered eyelashes, but upon seeing Midnight licking his fingers clean with a contemplative look on his face, she clenched her eyes shut once more.

-end explicit content-


And then came exactly what she'd known was coming the whole time; he leaned down, turned her neck to the side, and bit harshly into her jugular.

The pain was just as bad as the first time, but since she wasn't entirely shocked by the turn of events, she was able to let out a shriek at the sudden pain. He'd reopened the two bite marks where he'd first drank from her and Lucy couldn't help but feel that maybe this time was more painful because of that.

Midnight drank more slowly this time, seeming to savor her blood rather than just greedily pull mouthful after mouthful. In fact, he wasn't really sucking at all—he just let her traitorous heart pump the blood into his mouth.

It didn't take long to become lightheaded and soon she was dizzy. However, before she went unconscious, he pulled away, lapping at the two bite marks. She felt him brush the hair away from her face but kept her eyes closed, not sure that she could face him after the shameful, unwanted pleasure he'd forced from her body.

"He was right," she heard him murmur thoughtfully, but since she had no idea what he was talking about, she ignored it in favor of pretending to be unconscious.

After a while he got off her and unbound his belt from around her wrists. The angle they had been in would undoubtedly make her shoulders sore later, but she didn't dare move until he was gone. If she was still conscious, there was always the chance that he would want…more.

She heard footsteps going away from the couch and in the direction of her front door. Then, his next words came and she knew that he hadn't bought her act of being unconscious.

"Thursday, same time. Be here…and don't try anything stupid. I won't be so merciful if you do something foolish again."

And then the door opened and shut…and he was gone.

Still, Lucy didn't move for quite a while. She had to be absolutely certain he was gone before she did anything else.

At long last, assured that Midnight wouldn't be returning, Lucy opened her eyes. Upon seeing her naked form and ripped clothing, she let out a horrified sob and began to cry wretchedly.

He had…he had violated her! He wasn't just after her blood—he was going to make her a sex slave! Disgusted and repulsed at him, the situation, and most of all herself for her body's reaction, Lucy was immediately on her feet, intending to make it to the shower and wash every last trace of him off her.

Unfortunately, he had drained a good deal of blood, although perhaps not as much as last time, so she was forced to wait and steady herself on the back of the couch before proceeding upstairs.

Once safely under the hot water, it was all she could do to not scrub her skin until it bled. By the time she was done it was still raw and bright red, almost painful to the touch, but at least she felt remotely clean.

And yet she still felt as though a coat of grime was on her body.

Her phone was ringing, she noticed vaguely, still in something of a daze after the most humiliating episode in her life. Picking it up, she saw that it was Levy calling. Lucy had no idea what her friend wanted, but she did know that she had nothing to give at the moment. Setting her phone down after rejecting the call and putting it on silent, she stumbled into a pair of pajamas and collapsed onto her bed.

She knew, on some level, that she needed to eat to start replenishing her blood. Glancing at the clock and noticing the late hour, Lucy felt that Thursday wasn't really all that far away. Of course, knowing that she would see Midnight again wasn't helping matters at all—in fact, it only made the span of time seem so much shorter.

Lucy closed her eyes. She decided that she wouldn't think about what had happened that night; it was all a dream as far as she was concerned. If she let this haunt her, bring her down, she would surely go insane.

Somehow convincing herself, however weakly, that the past three hours had been nothing but her imagination, she drifted off to sleep.


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