CONTINUITY: Part 7 When All Hell Threatens
DISCLAIMER: I confess. I confess. I confess. Only the story line is mine.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: You wanted it, here it is. P.S. (great Blood Ties Music vid created by Paranormal Fan at www(dot)youtube(dot)com(backslash)watch?v(equal sign)hZq2t1sjp1I...
HHHHHH
Sunset was approaching.
He acknowledged it with the first tingling awareness on the edge of his mind.
The memory of a song he had once heard while hunting through a local nightclub not too long ago, flitted across his waking consciousness…
Watch my life pass me by
In the rear view mirror.
Pictures frozen in time
Are becoming clearer.
I don't want to waste another day
Stuck in the shadows of my mistakes.
Yeah!
Cause I want you
And I feel you
Running underneath my skin.
Like a hunger,
Like a burning,
To find a place I've never been.
Now I'm broken,
And I'm fading,
I'm half the man I thought I would be,
But you can have what's left of me.
I've been dying inside
Little by little
Nowhere to go
But going out of my mind
An endless circle.
Running from myself until
You gave me a reason for standing still.
And I want you
And I feel you
Falling underneath my skin.
Like a hunger,
Like a burning,
To find a place I've never been.
Now I'm broken,
And I'm fading,
I'm half the man I thought I would be
But you can have what's left of me.
Falling faster
Barely breathing
Give me something to believe in.
Tell me it's not all in my head!
Take what's left of this man
Make me hope once again!
Cause I want you
And I feel you
Rubbing underneath my skin.
Like a hunger,
Like a burning,
To find a place I've never been.
Now I'm broken,
And I'm fading,
I'm half the man I thought I would be.
You can have all that's left…
What's left of me.
I've been dying inside,
You see.
I've been going out of my mind.
Out of my mind.
I'm just running in circles all the time.
Will you take what's left?
Will you take what's left?
Will you take what's left of me?
I'm just running in circles all the time
Will you take what's left?
Will you take what's left?
Will you take what's left of me?
Take what's left of me.
What's Left of Me by Nick Lachey
He took his first breath of the day.
Caught her scent.
Sighed.
Then rose.
HHHHHH
Cursing the delay of the train from Oshawa to Union Station and then the lack of cabs in the taxi queue, Vicki entered Henry's building practically breathing fire. Without acknowledging the wacky doorman, who was nose deep into his gossip rag, she marched to the elevator and stabbed the button to Henry's floor. As the doors slid closed, thankfully without allowing anyone else to enter, she sagged against the polished brass railing and closed her eyes. She didn't need to see her reflection in the four mirrored walls surrounding her. She was a mess. She knew it, but vanity was the least of her flaws. She needed to get herself back in some kind of control. She was shaking inside her skin. Breathing hard, it seemed there was no way to slow her lungs down. Her breasts ached from the pounding of her heart beneath them.
She tried counting.
She tried focusing on the puffs of circulated cold air blowing down on her from the elevator fan.
She tried to swallow past a dry throat.
What she did not try was to stay within the elevator when the doors slid open.
Pushing from the rail, she walked on legs that felt uncoordinated and graceless. The carpet beneath her feet whispered her approach. Scarcely had she touched the handle of Henry's door when it was pulled away from her. Strong arms, familiar hands, grabbed her around the waist. Lifted, spun, she found herself suddenly held against the inside of the door, Henry's hungry mouth devouring her lips.
It was like being handed the key to life and she responded, softening, opening. Without conscious thought, her legs lifted, wrapping around Henry's rocking hips, pressing her heated center against his hard length. A groan slid past her throat as she felt his hands race down her waist to grab her ass and hold her close. Her hands lifted, nails digging into his shoulders.
Feeling the sharp pain of them, Henry arched his naked chest, pressing himself as close into her as he could. But it was not enough. Never enough. He wanted inside her, to feel her moist heat caressing his cock, taking him deep, gripping him hard until he lost the ability to tell where he ended and she began. The power of his lust was shocking, thrilling, driving all thought accept one from his head.
Angling his mouth, he caught her full lower lip in his teeth, nipping, tasting the tiny drop of blood welling along the inside of it.
Her flavor exploded against his tongue, igniting his senses. Sweet honey. Hot cinnamon. A low growl rumbled through his chest. He couldn't get enough. Every bone and muscle in his body screamed take her, yet the man in him wanted more, wanted to savor, to give, to feel her open to him mind and body.
Leaving one hand gripping her hip, he ran his right hand up, pulling her shirt from the waistband of her pants, sliding his fingers along the silken heated flesh of her belly.
Awareness of his touch, of the cooler air on her exposed skin, wrought a shudder through her. She knew where this was going, wanted it more than she wanted her next breath. Releasing her lips from his, she pulled back just far enough to see his face, to read the stark passion in his black gaze.
"Vicki." His voice was harsh with desire. It drove a dagger of flame straight down to that secret heart of her, the place she so desperately needed filled.
She said nothing, allowing the passion and trust in her eyes to convey the depths and power of her need, her permission. Fingers trembling, she brushed them across his flushed cheeks, his jaw, down the taut muscles of his throat. She felt him swallow. The convulsive movement had erotic images flying through her mind; his mouth on her tasting her, hers on him, drawing on his essence and passion. She sighed, melted even more.
A heavy pulse hammered above his heart as she paused to rest a single finger against it. It beat in sync with her own. She licked her lips, trailed the finger away, and replaced it with a wet lingering kiss. His sharp breath hissed in her ear, sending chills along her skin. Looking up, she captured his dark look then ran her nails lightly across his nipples. His eyes closed. His head fell back. A low hungry moan rose from his throat. The sound tightened brought her breasts to aching fullness. She brushed against his nipples again, scraping the puckered flesh and felt it in her own.
Confused, mildly startled by the sensation, she lifted her hands away, only to have him take them in his own. "Touch me," he breathed. "No one…" He leaned his mouth against her ear, ran his tongue along the outer edge and breathed against the wetness. "No one has touched me in a very…very long time." He laid her hands back upon his body, dragging them from his shoulders, down his chest, over his convulsing abs to the edge of his pants.
Her fingers clenched in the fabric, slipping beneath the seam behind the button, brushing the head of his hardened sex. "Henry." His name was a prayer, a command. She didn't understand his words, but trusted in them, believed him. Flicking her thumb beneath the button, she popped it open, slid the zipper slowly down then reached inside to take him in her hand.
"Yes! Vicki…" He surged against her, pushing up, pulling back as she tightened her grip. Her touch was both heaven and hell against his tortured flesh. He burned for her, for release, fought to make it last forever.
Naked. He needed her naked.
Searching for the hem of her t-shirt, he grabbed and tugged upwards. Senses heightened by being exactly what he was, Henry heard the thin fabric flutter against to the floor even as he dropped his gaze to the lush swell of her breasts above black lace and that damned teasing pink bow. With a feral growl, he closed his sharp teeth over the bit of ribbon, pulled, and felt the entire front of her bra give way with a rip.
His heart stopped as the two haves fell open, revealing her creamy flesh in all its perfection to his starving gaze. Mine, mine, mine, his heart and soul chanted. Tensing, fighting the urge to sink his teeth into the sweet skin shivering under his gaze, he slammed his hands flat against the wood of the door on either side of her head. His breath railed through his lungs. His gums ached and burned and a hollowness that had nothing to do with sex, but everything to do with hunger, nearly swept his legs out from under him. Never had he felt this starved…this empty. It was all he could do to control himself.
Connected to him on a level she could hardly imagine, Vicki felt Henry's battle, felt it in the steel of his cock beneath her fingers, the trembling in his spine as she ran her other hand up his back to tangle in his hair. The unending growl reverberating from him and through her, inflamed her desire. Clenching her fingers tight against his scalp, she pulled him forward until his face rested in the valley of both aching breasts.
Cushioned by heat, Henry inhaled deeply, filling himself with her intoxicating scent. Roses, sweet and filled with summer time heat. Passion, hot and mouthwatering. And an underlying….
Henry froze. Every nerve, muscle, screamed at him, told him the name of the scent lying beneath all the others.
Fear.
His head snapped up. His hands closed on her face, reeling her in. Words were difficult to form. His voice was rough deep, barely under control. "What happened?"
Vicki heard the question, but her passion drugged thoughts did not connect to them. Instead, she tried to lean forward, to take Henry's lips with hers. He allowed it, briefly, but then pulled back again. Her hand on his cock stilled, dropped away.
"Vicki. What. Happened?"
"I came to the door. You grabbed me…."
Henry could not prevent the smile spreading past his fangs, but the flavor of her fear had settled on his tongue, refusing to be denied. He did not, could not have her fearing him. "I smell it on you." He said. "You're afraid."
Vicki blinked. Then like the slamming of a door, reality punched through the haze of her desire. She shook her head. "Was." She gasped. "Was afraid, but not of you." Raising her hand, she traced the line of his lips, slid a finger against his fang, pushed until it pierced her skin. "Never of you." Eyes following her actions, she drew the drop of blood across his lips, smiling as his tongue snaked out to lick away the redness.
Henry growled. Tightening his grip on her waist, he spun her with vampire swiftness to the narrow sofa in the center of the room. Settling in the corner, he realigned her thighs on either side of his legs, and nestled her moist heat close against his still hard cock. "Tell me."
Rocking against him, Vicki pushed her bare breasts against his lightly haired chest. She reveled in the tough of his flesh against hers. She so did not want to have this conversation now.
Left hand trailing up her spine, Henry absorbed the feeling of having her against him. In all his fantasies, he could not have imagined such unfettered joy and pleasure of simply holding her like this, touching her, listening to her breath as it rushed against his throat, her heart as it beat in time against his own. But he could not be distracted. Once his senses registered the flavor of fear on her, it would not leave him alone.
"Vicki. Stop."
Her shoulders shook beneath his hand. A stutter of breath blew against his neck as she nuzzled her mouth against his damp skin. Laughter. "Isn't that supposed to be the girl's line?" Vicki asked as she snaked her tongue out to taste the skin along Henry's throat. Without warning, she bit down.
Shocked, inflamed, and so absolutely turned on, Henry did something he had not done in centuries outside a woman's body. He lost control and came. Hard. Long. Powerfully he spilled his empty seed between them both.
Feeling the hot fluid pulse against her belly set an answering explosion deep inside her. Without the help of anything other than Henry's harsh roar of release, Vicki let go. Every muscle, every inch of her tightened as her orgasm ripped through her. Banding her arms about his head, she held on for dear life as her world shattered then slowly lazily reassembled itself into something new.
For long moments, they held each other, eased each other with soft feather-light touches along cheeks, arms, until their fingers met, laced and did not let go.
Feeling her breath finally begin to slow, Vicki pulled slightly back. Henry's face, so close to her own, reflected a peace and contentment that turned her heart over in her chest. His normally pale skin still held the flush of their passion in his high cheeks. His lips, swollen from their kisses, still held a trace of her blood at the corner. From his closed eyes, a single tear fell. Her heart hitched in her chest at the sight of it running down his face. Unable to help herself, she reached for it, brushed it away with the tip of her finger and brought it to her lips. Just as she was about to taste, his eyes snapped open and his hand caught hers, guiding it to her lips. As he watched, she opened her mouth, tasted the salt, and damn near came again.
Feeling the pulse of lust that speared through her, Henry brought his mouth once more down upon her lips, tasting that passion, drinking it into himself, and he knew he had just given into her care his very soul.
HHHHHH
A/N: I have absolutely never before written a scene such as this in my life. Please let me know how I did. Was it too blunt, offensive, obscure, just right? I won't ask if it was enough…because I somehow suspect that for a great many of you out there, it will never be enough:o)
