A/N – Sorry for not updating for quite a while but as I mentioned in my most recent one shot, I really just wanted to enjoy the holidays. However, inspiration came a-knockin' when I was forced back into my hotel due to bad weather and I churned this chapter out. Hope you enjoy and as always, reviews and critiques are always welcome. Happy holidays and happy reading everyone!
Chapter 10
Blood. She glutted on it, gorged herself on the life giving liquid until her pores stank of its metallic scent and her eyes and ears bled out the excess.
Sex. It was her go to tool of manipulation and she wielded it with expert ease. Victims fell far too willingly at her feet; men, women, vampire, human. She used them, fucked them to oblivion and took what all that they gave.
Sensation. She drowned herself in it, subjected her mind, body and soul to the most base of desires. Blood and sex. Sex and blood. The two were synonymous, so intertwined that after a while, she couldn't have one without the other.
Pain. Pleasure. She offered both, gave both with startling clarity. She made her victims ride the fine line between pleasure and pain until it blurred beyond recognition. Their screams of pleasure was her new drug, the fear and pain that blended into their blood, ambrosia.
And yet, despite the countless, needless feedings, the endless one night stands, Tara had never felt more numb, more disconnected from the world. It was just another part of her that wouldn't, couldn't function without Pam.
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Tara slammed her latest conquest up against the grimy brick wall. The girl's back hit the solid surface with enough force for an unpleasant thump to echo down the shadowy alleyway and for the air to leave her lungs in a most painful manner. The back of her head cracked against the flat of a brick and stars fandangoed momentarily in front of her eyes. She whimpered, whether in fear or anticipation, she didn't know.
Tara paid the girl's slight discomfort no mind. Her lips were already on the girl's neck, whispering wet, hurried kisses down the column of her pale throat. Her tongue flicked and licked over a pulse that was hammering a frantic beat against the confines of skin.
The girl swallowed when she heard the subtle click of distending fangs, shivered when Tara dragged those sharp incisors over her jugular. The girl's arms were limp by her side, her hands clenching sporadically in vain attempt not to touch the vampire that currently held her up against the wall.
Tara had given her clear instructions on what she wanted. Touching the vampire was not one of them.
A rough hand shoved itself underneath the girl's thin tank top, its fingers groping almost painfully at a small but perky breast. The girl moaned and thrust her chest outwards, seeking firmer contact. Tara retaliated by digging her nails into the plump skin, the heel of her palm enticing an already stiff nipple into a hard, pointed peak.
Tara worried the vulnerable flesh of the girl's neck with her fangs, biting gently down but never quite penetrating the skin. She moved the hand she had under the girl's tank down a stomach that was quivering and heaving with fear, panic, anticipation, desires or a toxic combination of all.
The girl's breath hitched when Tara's hand reached the hem of her miniskirt and her thighs trembled in response. She fairly whimpered in abject need when Tara pressed her lips to her ear and whispered a question, the vampire's voice an exercise in seduction, its cadence husky and dripping sex.
"What do you want?" Tara asked before she took the girl's lobe between her teeth. She bit at soft flesh, smiled a dark smile when a tremor ran rampant throughout the girl's frame. "What do you want?" the vampire whispered, her voice a promising all things dark and sinful.
The girl sucked in a much needed breath when Tara's hand alighted on her inner thigh. A flash of embarrassment streaked through her veins when she realized her arousal had already painted her inner thighs but it soon gave way to the stinging bolt of desire when Tara trailed two lazy fingers upwards towards the apex of her legs.
"Your…f-fingers," the girl managed to gasp when Tara cupped her soaking wet cunt through the lacy material of her underwear. Her knees threatened to buckled when Tara pressed the pad of her thumb against her painfully pulsating clit.
"And my fangs?" Tara's voice was demanding now. She dragged said fangs along the line of the girl's jaw then moved back down to the side of her neck. "Do you want my fangs inside of you too?"
"Yes!" The girl was whimpering piteously now, her legs shaking so hard that if it weren't for Tara pressing her against the wall, she would have crumbled to the dirt streaked floor. "Please…"
Tara yanked the girl's underwear off her, her bold and rough actions drawing out a half-panicked, half-aroused moan. Letting the now useless garment fall to their feet, Tara wasted no time in thrusting two fingers knuckle deep inside of the girl. Her fangs followed suit, sinking deep into the side of the girl's neck. She was rewarded by a fresh gush of wetness drenching her trapped fingers and rich, desire-spiked blood starbursting onto her tongue.
The girl mewled, her hips erratically springing back and forth as Tara drove punishing fingers in and out of her contracting cunt. Her throbbing clit was a fierce pleasure point, one Tara manipulated and used at whim. Her neck on the other hand was singing dark notes of pain, Tara not bothering to make her feeding gentle or considerate.
The girl was caught between the jaws of pain and the caress of pleasure. But as Tara eased in another finger and sped up the tempo of her thrusts while taking in long pulls of hot blood, the lines between pleasure and pain blurred until she couldn't tell which fanned the flames of her arousal more: the fangs ravaging the flesh of her neck or the expert fingers thrusting in and out of her very wet pussy.
Tara pressed the heel of her palm against the girl's thrumming clit, her three buried fingers soaked with the girl's desire. She drove her fingers mercilessly in and out of the girl, her pace almost punishing. The girl's hips struggled to follow Tara's rhythm, her cunt clenching and unclenching in an almost desperate manner around Tara's trapped fingers. The stench of sex and blood saturated the air around the rutting couple, a potent , heady mist that made the girl's eyes roll to the back of her head.
When Tara felt the girl's impending orgasm, she pulled all the way out before slamming her fingers back in and curling them. The girl screamed as Tara bit down even harder on her neck, irritating twin puncture wounds that were weeping crimson. When she felt Tara's curled fingers touch that spot inside of her, colors exploded behind eyes that had become tightly screwed.
The girl's orgasm sent shockwaves throughout her body, her screams of pleasure echoing down the otherwise uninhabited alleyway. Tara hummed as the girl's orgasm sweetened the blood that was pooling freely in her mouth. She stilled the fingers she had buried inside of the girl, allowing her to ride out her climax without further stimulation. Not that the girl needed it; her entire body was quaking violently, her hands twin fists and her legs the consistency of jello. Her face bore an interesting combination of a pleasure induced smile and furrowed brows that bespoke of intense concentration.
Tara kept the girl pressed against the wall even as she withdrew her fangs. Her face, though smeared red around her lips, remained frighteningly impassive, her eyes two dark, fathomless pools of emptiness. She watched as the girl struggled to control her trembling body, observed the way her lips were parted to suck in gulps of much needed air. When she was sure the girl could stand on her own, she moved away; the girl slumped against the wall, one hand braced against it for support.
"Thanks for the blood," Tara said, her voice one decibel shy of monotone. She licked her lips, cleaning them of the remnants of blood. Like always, the blood she ingested sang to her taste buds but not to her heart. It was the same with fucking; she had fucked so many that their faces were nothing more than a blur but each encounter proved futile. Tara felt nothing, not joy in watching others climax, not smug, arrogant satisfaction.
"Can I have your number?" The girl knew her request was a long shot but she felt compelled to ask anyway.
"No." And with that Tara walked away, allowing the dark of the alley to cloak her lithe frame from sight.
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Tara paused to tap away the small stick of ash that accumulated at the end of her cigarette. Taking another drag, she exhaled slowly, watching her maker through cautionary eyes. Pam was situated on the bed, cobalt blue eyes trained studiously on the book she held in her hands. To the casual observer, it looked as though the blonde was immersed in her book, Tara's words unregistered.
However, Tara knew better. She knew Pam, had deep, intimate knowledge of her maker, not just as her former lover but as someone who lived with the blonde for decades. She could read every subtle expression on Pam's face, could write a book on the many ways Pam's body would express joy, anger, sadness, irritation.
And so, the dark-skinned vampire knew by the subtle way Pam angled her body towards Tara, the way her finger would hesitate and linger over the corner of a page before turning it, the way she held her head that Pam was listening.
Tara sucked on the end of her cigarette, blew out a series of smoke rings then resumed.
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The air burned with heat, the wind sticky with humidity. The sky was black as pitch, devoid of stars or clouds. Tara skulked down the near empty street, her posture simultaneously inviting yet foreboding. Turning the corner, she was on her way back to her temporary residence when a drunken college boy stepped into her path.
The vampire's reaction was instinctive; an ebony arm shot out, limber fingers wrapping themselves around a slender throat like bands of steel. The drunken haze that clouded the boy's eyes were immediately replaced by a very sober fear. His eyes widened the size of dinner plates when Tara lifted him into the air, her face a snarling, hissing mask of pulled back lips and elongated fangs.
The boy whimpered, his hands clawing at Tara's to no avail. His legs kicked out beneath him, one shoe managing to catch Tara at the knee but that only resulted in Tara tightened her grip even more.
'Do it,' a voice inside of her head crooned, its tone oily and saccharine. 'It would be so easy-,' the voice continued, temptation dripping from every syllable. '-to break his neck. Feel his bones crumble beneath your fingers. Do it.'
"Oh, what the hell," was what Tara said out loud. She gave the boy's throat a fatal squeeze; the skin beneath her fingers quickly mottled into blotches of purple, blue and green before the sound of cracking bones filled the air. The boy screamed, it was short-lived, high-pitched and tapered into a garbled choke before the boy fell silent as Tara literally squeezed the life out of him.
Adrenaline. Excitement. A sliver of arousal.
Things Tara thought she would never feel again. She stared at the now lifeless body; the boy's head hung limp, his chin brushing Tara's knuckles. He had no pulse, the blood in his veins already stinking up Tara's nostrils. She dropped him, watched as his legs hit the pavement at an unnatural angle. Something popped, probably his knee. Tara didn't care. All she cared was that when she had killed the boy, intentionally took his life, she felt alive again.
The events that followed this incident would result in stripping Tara of any last shred of humanity she had left.
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"Stop."
Tara was so startled by the sound of Pam's voice that she dropped her cigarette.
"Fuck!" The younger vampire stamped at the glowing end before she bent and picked up the now useless bud. Flicking it out the window, she quickly returned her attention to Pam, shock traipsing across her face before Tara squashed the expression with a look of impassivity.
Pam was looking at her, not through her but at her. Sapphire blue eyes iridescent with pain, the features on her face contorted with barely contained horror and disbelief. "Please," she rasped out, her hands suddenly shaking so badly that she had to set the book she held onto her lap. "Just…stop."
Tara's eyes were almost unreadable save for a flicker of need as they locked onto agony painted Prussian blue. "I need you to understand," Tara began. She leaned back against the wall, one hand sliding carelessly into her pocket. "Why I am the way I am," she continued, her voice breaking slightly. "Why the way I am now," she clarified, her tone firming.
Pam swallowed. Hard. There was suddenly so much pleading in Tara's eyes that it caused the blonde's heart clenched painfully in her chest and her eyes to sting. She shook her head, the act sending strands of golden blonde hair to dance about her face. "No." She didn't want to hear anymore, didn't want to subject Tara and herself to the tale of Tara's self-destruction.
Tara refused to tear her gaze away from Pam's, determination, relief and a dangerous spark of joy raging inside of her. Relief and joy because her maker was finally acknowledging her presence. Determination because she needed to make Pam understand her side of things. "Yes," Tara countered. Eyes the color of midnight burned into coals of sapphire. "Yes."
TBC