Monster obnoxious a/n: This is wildly inappropriate and this chapter especially requires a stern Defcon level 1 warning. This one is gory and ultra-rapey feeling. I don't intend for this to be prurient but when I tried to write a deflowering between a teenage girl and a three thousand year-old vampire megalomaniac this is what came out. The delightful Genny910 betaed it for me. She called it a Twilight snuff fic.
"Power always sincerely, conscientiously, de très bon foi, believes itself right. Power always thinks it has a great soul and vast views, beyond the comprehension of the weak. "
-John Adams
There was no clock in the room, but I knew that I had slept late. I thought for a moment of the wristwatch I'd left on the bathroom counter back in Forks, but the thought was too disorienting, and I quickly squashed it. I had that groggy feeling you get when you oversleep after having been awake for far too long.
Either I had slept soundly, or the vampires hosting me were extremely quiet, because there were things in my room that hadn't been there when I went fitfully to sleep the night before.
First, a saran-wrapped sandwich and a lukewarm coke on the coffee table. Second, a pile of clothing and a tiny cosmetic bag on the bathroom counter.
The sandwich didn't look terribly fresh, but I was starving, having had nothing to eat for at least a day. I wolfed it down and then got up the courage to try the door. Locked.
It was a relief, really. Where would I go? It hardly seemed safe to wander the halls here.
The next thing to attend to was my clothes. I'd now been wearing the same clothes for at least thirty-six hours. I went to investigate the pile in the bathroom.
There was a black silk dress, a more conservative cut than I would have expected. There were also some fairly plain but expensive-feeling undergarments. I tried to decipher what the intent was here. I guess my expectation was that a man would want his mistress-my mind reeled a little at the word-to dress more provocatively than this. The most scandalous item here was the shoes. A pair of black sandals with high heels and a dozen tiny straps around the foot and ankle. I blew out a tense breath. I wasn't sure I could walk in shoes like these. You won't need to walk, a voice that sounded ominously like Aro's sounded in my head.
I shook my head to try to clear these thoughts out.
I took a long shower and began to get dressed. The dress fit me perfectly, as if Alice had picked it out. It had a shallow V-neck and little sleeves, and it fell to my knees. The cosmetic bag held a few make-up items and a packet of hairpins. Like the dress and shoes, everything had unfamiliar Italian labels. I took my cue from the items in the bag and pinned my hair up as well as I could. I put on some mascara and lipstick.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked…elegant and more grown-up than I would have thought I could look. I also didn't look like any American teenager's idea of "dressed up for a date." It occurred to me then-quite viscerally-that a different brand of vampirism wasn't the only thing about my new life that was alien to me. These were ancient Europeans. Their thoughts and standards and manners were going to differ wildly from what I was accustomed to. Even the Cullens were American, apart from Carlisle. I was so out of my depth in so many ways. My head began to swim again.
Then I thought about the attraction I had felt last night to that creature, that manipulative, powerful, unpredictable self-described monster. In the light of day it was just a memory. Thinking about him now, imagining being intimate with him, made my insides squirm. But in his presence I had been disarmed, aroused. Would that feeling return and be enough to make this bearable? I had a hard time thinking about being with him for one night, let alone five years. My anxiety was compounded by the fact that I had yet to be with anyone that way. My experiences of the few years had frozen me, in some sense.
There was a knock on the door. I expected someone to walk in, but when I didn't respond, they knocked again. I jumped up, still barefoot, and went to the door.
"Um, come in?" I didn't know what to say. The door was locked. I could hardly just let them in.
The door opened, and two vampires stood outside with two chairs and a table.
One of them spoke. "We need to prepare your room for dinner." I noticed that neither of them would make eye contact. In fact, they came in and began rearranging the furniture without so much as looking at me.
They set up a table with one place setting and two chairs, a tablecloth, candles and all. There was just an empty glass on the other side. I flitted nervously from the couch to the bathroom mirror. When they had finished setting the table, including a covered plate, I finally put on the impossible shoes.
They left, and within a minute there came the next knock on the ancient door. Aro entered without pausing, as before.
"My dear Isabella." He took both of my hands and led me from the couch to my seat at the table. "You will forgive me for not dining with you?" I mumbled something to indicate my assent.
He seated himself across from me at the empty side of the table and gestured for me to begin. I lifted the silver dome off of my plate to reveal some sort of ravioli and vegetables. Aro rose again to pour me a glass of red wine. He sat back down and raised his empty glass. I tentatively copied him.
"To new beginnings," he said. I murmured his toast back to him and drank. I was unused to alcohol, but the wine tasted good.
"I hope it's to your liking?" His inquiry seemed sincere.
"It's very good. Thank you." I tried to smile but my face felt numb.
I did my best to eat the food. It was very good, but I was so anxious that I found it hard to swallow. I did manage to finish two glasses of wine and, because I wasn't used to the alcohol, I felt somewhat more relaxed.
Aro kept the conversation going largely on his own. He was quite entertaining, telling me about Volterra and its history. I wasn't sure how much I would remember of it but it put me at ease, nonetheless.
Things were a little fuzzy, but pleasantly so, when I put my fork down. Aro helped me over to the couch and sat down quite close to me.
"Isabella," he breathed my name out, brushing his fingers across my cheek.
Then he pursed his lips, and his tone shifted from appreciative to polite and solicitous. "Tell me, did you ever do this with your Edward?" I shook my head at him. "Perhaps with a young human, then?" I shook my head again. The question of whether I was attracted to him was answered then when he gave me that same sly, lascivious smile from the night before, and I lost my breath temporarily.
"What a rare treasure you are, my dear." His touch on my face became more insistent as his fingers slid down across my lips and stopped at my chin. "What a privilege."
He bent his neck, and his face came closer to mine. I held as still as I could, remembering my first kiss with Edward. His lips touched mine and then quickly forced them apart as his tongue slipped shallowly between my lips. He pressed his cold hard mouth against mine. After less than a minute he pulled away from me with a sharp breath, and I saw blood on his lips.
I gasped, but he smiled, his mouth twisting, red with my blood.
"Oops!" He gave a sharp laugh, and his hand shot up to his mouth. "I'll have to be more careful." He laughed again and stroked his hand down my arm, watching the progress of his fingers dreamily.
"Come," he said invitingly. "You'll be more comfortable on the bed."
My heart thumped at his words and his touch, but I let him lead me to the bed. It was a dramatic, canopied thing with dark wood and a rich, velvety comforter. On the one hand it seemed silly and theatrical, but it also seemed in step with the mood of this gloomy but darkly romantic castle.
He set me down on the bed and knelt down to take the sandals off my feet, taking the opportunity to slide his hands up to my knees when he stood back up. He smiled again and took a seat almost primly next to me.
"As I said, Isabella, I'm going to be as careful as I can but…" he sighed and looked at his folded hands. "This may prove to be very dangerous."
I nodded at him and then, when I realized he was waiting for more of a response, I murmured, "I understand."
"Good," he said, nodding once. He slid closer to me and placed one hand on my cheek. The other went behind my head and he began to slowly unzip the dress.
"Lovely Isabella," he breathed in that sing-song voice as he edged closer to me and murmured in my ear. "You do me such an honor."
My already murky head was filled with the smell of him, darker and spicier than Edward, but no less compelling. His lips slid down to my collarbone, and I felt his tongue on my pulse. My eyes slid shut as I felt his hands tug at the top of my dress and pull it to my waist. I sucked in my breath and then forced my eyes open shyly so I could take in his response to me.
He slipped off my bra with such a minimal effort that I wondered if it hadn't just dissolved in his hands. He stared at my upper body with a type of wonder, and I realized that he was following the path of his own hands. It occurred to me that he was amazed by the novelty of touching someone in this way without the accompanying thoughts. No distractions. He whispered something in a language that sounded like Italian, but I couldn't be sure.
Then he looked at me, seemingly for permission, before standing me up to slip my dress off. The rustling of the silk was followed by the smallest gasp on my part as my panties were gone as quickly as the rest of my clothes. Before I could cover up I was aloft and then lying on my back, propped up by pillows with him next to me leaning on his elbow. He was still completely dressed.
"Beautiful," he said, smiling at me reassuringly. His hands continued their journey over my body, his eyes following them. His absorption in what he was doing made him feel curiously distant despite his proximity to me. The feeling made me anxious again, and I couldn't regain my earlier sensation of desire. He quickly realized what was happening and smiled at me, his mouth twisting.
"I did say I would attempt to make it gratifying for you, didn't I?" I couldn't respond due to the strength at which my hunger rushed back. "Forgive me, Isabella. I got carried away by your loveliness."
He bent his head and took my nipple in his mouth. The cold didn't affect me this time, especially when he caressed the other one with his gentle fingers. Within moments my quiet gasps became whimpers, and he moved his hand between my legs. I winced at first, not in pain but in bashfulness. He shushed me gently then raised his head back up, regarding my face as he moved his fingers against me.
"Relax, Isabella," he murmured in that soothing, resonant voice of his. Soon I could barely keep my eyes open as I felt the tension in my belly increasing. He whispered encouragement to me as, finally, my head tilted back on the pillows and I came, my hips jerking up against his hand, my body flushing hot against his cool breath and touch.
"Now, Isabella," he said kindly, as if he was a doctor preparing to give me a shot. "This is going to hurt."
I heard some rustling of his clothes and, faster than I thought possible, he lifted me into his lap, and I could feel him pressing against me.
"Are you ready?" I wasn't-would never be-but I nodded dazedly, and he lowered me down onto him. The pain was sharp and immediate, and I gasped. He shushed me again, murmuring soothing sounds into my ear, but he continued to raise and lower me slowly, holding me with only his hands.
It ached, and his grip felt hard and tight on my waist, but his voice in my ear was hypnotic and compelling, and I focused my attention on it. I contemplated the idea that this wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. The sensation became pleasant and then, delicious.
Just as my body began to move in conjunction with his thrusts, I realized that his voice had become tense and strained, As it did, his grip on my waist became painful, and the next thrust inside me hurt.
I cried out, and with dizzying speed I was on my back again with him on top of me.
"I'm afraid this is going to break you," he said to me sadly, and, although my mind was filled with horror at his words, my body didn't stop responding to him.
His next few thrusts felt exquisite, and my eyes slid closed again. Then, there was a sharp, crushing feeling in my midsection. Aro's body jerked against mine harder, oppressively now, and I began to whimper in pain. He continued to murmur soothing words, but there was an intensity to his voice that hadn't been there before.
Then, there was a sharp, agonizing crack, and the vision behind my closed eyelids went red.
"I'm so sorry, my Isabella," Aro spoke in my ear in a sad tone. The next thing I felt was something piercing my throat and the feeling of his lips on my neck. He was draining me, his mouth and body moving against mine in a way that could only be described as animalistic. He was killing me. A burning sensation spread through my body, in tandem with the pleasure I was still somehow feeling. It felt like being frozen and burning at the same time. I was dying.
"Goodbye, Bella Swan." My first and last lover whispered in my ear before I slipped into nothingness.
a/n: Thank you so much for your kind (and, in some cases, horrified) reviews and support. I was convinced that no one was going to want to read something this crazy. I don't know what that says about you guys. ; ) xoxo JuJu