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Chapter 4:
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That night Ms Swan and I seemed to have a sort of breakthrough in our strange relationship and by the next morning I felt she was docile enough to take out for the day. Like a date, of sorts.
It was a nice morning, not quite sunny, and we got a bit dressed up. I wore one of the dresses I had bought yesterday—the one with pink and red floral print—and Ms Swan wore the jeans and the jacket. We went for a tour of the marketplace down on the wharf, not a very long walk from the motel, and she slumped along at my side with her hands in the pockets of the jacket and her dark eyes cutting about as if they were searching for something, help or an escape route or even her boyfriend that she still hoped would come rescue her. I had an eye peeled for him as well but it was still a little early to expect any surprises. Ms Swan and I still had quite a bit of quality time together and I found myself pleased that her new found fear of me hadn't completely quenched that flicker of defiance. I wouldn't want her to be too submissive. Just enough to be controlled. Part of me even hoped she actually would try something stupid while we were out. Nothing too bothersome, just something for which I could punish her.
But so far she had been on her best behaviour. Not particularly talkative but pleasant enough as we strolled among the stalls and vendors in the open sea air with the salt breeze moving through our hair. I paused at a collection of hair accessories and she stood by with her arms folded. There was a hairclip there with a plastic purple chrysanthemum that I just had to buy for her.
She didn't object as I handed over the money, which I thought was very genteel of her, and she even deigned to stand still as I combed back her hair with my fingers and fitted the hairclip into those lovely dark locks. The purple bloom sat there at her temple and it made her look absolutely beautiful. I told her so and she looked away blandly, out across the wharf where small boats and other pleasurecraft were anchored at the docks. I followed her gaze out to the ocean and smiled and turned back to her.
"This must be very hard for you," I said. "Standing still like a good girl. I bet your brain is positively teeming with more of your harebrained schemes. Quick, jump into the ocean and swim home. I'll even give you a head start."
I nudged her elbow, as if to encourage her along. She gave me an angry look.
"Fuck you," she said.
I chuckled and threaded my arm around hers as we continued on among the stalls, through the crowd of people there and the endless chatter all around us, the girl trudging along in broad daylight and yet trapped just as surely as being handcuffed in a closet. I looked up at the sky, at the white brightness beyond the clouds.
"It really is a lovely day," I said idly. "There may even be some sun later on. What do you think?"
"Do I look like I give a fuck?"
"So gloomy. What can I do to cheer you up, Ms Swan?"
"Drop dead."
I sighed and strolled along at her side, gently keeping hold of her arm. "I do wish you'd loosen up a little," I said. Then I smirked at her. "Or maybe I should just take you back to the motel and loosen you up manually. Hm?"
I gave her arm a suggestive squeeze. She glanced at me, finally with a flicker of fear in her eye. It made me smile and I gave a chuckle.
"Ah, now you're afraid," I said. "You see, Ms Swan, no matter how bad things are they can always get worse. So if I were you, I'd try really hard to enjoy our day out together. The longer we're out in public, the longer you can keep your clothes on."
She didn't answer that, she only looked away darkly. She was a peculiar girl. She seemed to fear violations to her body more than anything else and yet she was quite capable of coming like a slut every time I touched her.
But then again, perhaps that was what she feared most. Not the helplessness or the revulsion or even the violation itself. But her habit of succumbing to it. The way her body betrayed her. I suppose it was very humiliating for her. In time she may grow to accept it but for now she was quite determined to cling to whatever scraps of dignity she'd managed to hang on to.
We strolled on in silence for a few moments and soon we passed a display of cheap jewellery. I paused, still holding her arm, and then I released it slowly to examine one of the pieces.
It was a silver locket, shaped like a heart with a red stone in the center. It struck me as oddly symbolic, as if the red stone symbolized the passion of my feelings encased there in the cold white metal of Ms Swan's heart. It came with a chain and I smiled and draped the pendant over my palm to show it to her.
"Hmm, this is rather lovely," I said. "Only sterling, but still. Would you allow me to buy it for you?"
"I don't want anything from you," she muttered, not even looking.
To be honest, I wasn't really asking. I bought it for her anyway, at a very cheap price, and she watched me angrily. I smiled and made a twirling motion with my finger.
"Turn around and lift your hair," I told her.
She exhaled through her nose, biting her tongue, and then she turned around, gathering her hair in her hand. I put the necklace around her neck and did the clasp, smiling.
"There," I said. "Now you'll always have this to remember me by even if you manage to get away."
She let her hair drop and finally looked at the pendant, lifting it from her chest and gazing down her nose. She didn't seem particularly impressed and she let it drop again. I took her arm and we resumed strolling.
"Speaking of you getting away," I went on, "I wonder how long it's going to take for your boyfriend to ride to your rescue? I do hope we haven't underestimated his regard for you."
"Maybe he doesn't know yet."
"He should."
She snorted and looked off toward the ocean. "Yeah, well, maybe it's too late, anyway. What's the point of being saved after you've already been raped a bunch of times?"
"Too prevent you being raped a bunch more?"
She sighed and shook her head. A flight of seagulls passed over head in a thin chorus of squawks and she glanced up at them briefly.
"I should just kill myself," she said. "I don't know why I don't."
I chuckled and paused to browse a stall we were passing, a small haberdashery of hats and other fashionable headgear. "Now, now, let's get melodramatic," I said. "You're going to be fine, Ms Swan."
I had selected a certain sunhat and now I was turning it in my hands. It was broadbrimmed and made from floppy straw with a round crown, red in color. It may come in useful if the day gets any brighter. The girl paused beside me and now she glared at me for a moment.
"How can you say that?" she demanded.
"Say what?" I asked, still inspecting the hat.
"You're the one who kidnapped me. And now you're telling me I'm going to be fine? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you even pretend to be nice?"
I glanced at her, smiling. "Who said I was pretending?"
She continued glaring at me and I went back to examining the hat.
"As difficult as it may be for you to understand, Ms Swan," I said, "I do actually care about you. Sometimes you force me to be stern, but other times there's no harm doting on you. In many ways, it's no different than taking care of a stubborn cat."
Her glare darkened. "I'm not a cat."
"No, but I do own you like one."
"Nobody owns me," she hissed.
I chuckled, the hat in my hands. I gave her a saucy glance. "Be careful, Ms Swan," I said. "Talk like that will only provoke me to prove it to you."
She didn't reply to that, she just folded her arms and looked away. I purchased the hat for myself and set it on my head before squaring the brim. There was a mirror there at the stall and I admired myself for a moment. The hat was very stylish on me and as a bonus it would thwart the sunrays if the morning got any brighter.
In the mirror, I caught a glimpse of Ms Swan. She still had her arms folded but I couldn't help but notice the grudging attraction in her eye as she glanced at me and glanced away again, her eyes flickering over my dress, my back. I turned back to her, smiling, and unfolded her arms with my hands before lacing one of them around mine.
We continued strolling, me in my new hat, her with her new locket, looking much like sisters perhaps or maybe even lovers. I looked up at the sky to measure the sun and then I patted Ms Swan's arm.
"I think we should make tonight a date," I suggested. "A proper date. What do you think?"
She didn't answer, she only rolled her eyes aside. I took it for agreement.
"We could go to a nice restaurant and maybe dance a little bit," I went on. "It's been such a long time since I've been on a real date. Years, actually. James wasn't much of a romantic. What do you think?"
"Fuck off."
"Have you ever been on a real date before, Ms Swan?"
"No."
"Then tonight will be your first. The same way I was your first real lover."
She stopped walking and jerked her arm away from mine. I turned to her in surprise. Her dark eyes were full of rage and she stood there in the middle of that crowded market and said:
"You're not anything to me."
I smirked at her and placed my hands on my hips dominantly. "On the contrary," I said. "I am the goddess of your existence and you will learn to worship me, Ms Swan, or suffer the consequences."
I concluded with my crimson eyes narrowed at her playfully and she glowered at me darkly for a moment before I took her hand and tugged her along gently to follow me.
There was a café down there on the wharf where I bought Ms Swan lunch, seafood naturally. We sat together at a table outside underneath a huge umbrella. I had taken off my hat and set it on the table together with my handbag and I was using my smartphone to check for restaurants in the area. I found a nice one where we could get dressed up a little and I made a reservation while the girl ate and eyed the phone in my hand discreetly. It was a crafty look in those brown orbs but I decided not to worry about it. Even if she could somehow manage to steal the phone from me, who could she call? Not her mate. Not the police. As silly as she could be sometimes, I didn't think she would be silly enough to risk taking the phone even if I left it out in the open—which I certainly didn't plan to do.
After she was finished eating, we journeyed further into town and took a tour of the courtyard outside the courthouse. The sun had finally began to peek from behind the clouds and I was obliged to put my coat on in order to cover my arms and shoulders. The hat took care of my face and neck and yet I noticed the girl toss me a glance every now and then whenever an errant sunray snuck through and glittered off my face. Like many lifeforms of lower intelligence, she seemed fascinated by shiny things.
In the early afternoon we found a used bookstore. The girl had very little entertainment back at the motel room so I told her to browse and select a few things she liked. She had a penchant for the classics, it seemed, and I wound up buying her a ratty paperback of Jane Austin's collected works. By the time we left the store we'd had one of the most civil conversations of our relationship, a polite and only slightly stilted discussion on her tastes in literature. She was intrigued to discover that Wuthering Heights was my all-time favorite novel and she confessed she liked it as well. She went on to name a few more of her favourites and she was half-annoyed and half-fascinated to discover that I had read them all and was more than willing to talk about them. She was begrudged to talk to me at all, of course, but her love of literature seemed to have been bottled up inside her for quite a while, and in the end she was moved to quite a lengthy discourse on the subject and even a smile or two at the expense of my charming wit.
The sun was finally going down by the time we got back to the motel. Ms Swan's mood had shifted into sullenness again, now that we were alone, and I left her standing there while I arranged some outfits for us on the bed, fetching the clothes out of the closet and laying them on the covers. A dress for me, one of the skirts for Ms Swan. She watched all this with disapproval until it was time to get ready. I told her she could use the bathroom first and she took her clothes from the bed in sullen silence and trudged into the bathroom and slammed shut the door. I sighed and shook my head. Typical teenager, really.
She was in the bathroom a long time and fully dressed when she came out. The outfit I had selected for her was the black top and the black miniskirt. The skirt was pleated and the top had a ruffled trim and the flat black fabric greatly flattered her pale skin. Casual but beautiful. I told her she looked very lovely and she replied with an irritated grunt, although there did seem to be a certain shyness in how she looked away. It was going to be cold out so I offered her my black coat to keep her warm and complete the ensemble. The offer seemed to surprise her for some reason and she agreed rather quickly. I slipped the coat over her shoulders and I had to admit I was a little confused at her lack of telling me to go to hell. But then I saw her discreetly slip her hand into one of the pockets—the same pocket I usually kept the phone—and I realized why she had been so quick to accept my kindness. The phone wasn't there, of course, but I admired her slyness.
After that I went for a shower of my own and put on my dress, the red one with the belted waist, before calling Ms Swan back into the bathroom so that I could do her makeup. Nothing fancy, just enough to look date-nice. She tolerated the ordeal patiently enough, her face set in a frown while I carefully painted her lips and flicked her eyelashes with mascara. I then done my own makeup and together we donned some jewellery—a few cheap bracelets and bangles I had bought for myself, the heartshaped locket I had bought for Ms Swan—and finally we were ready to go.
We took a cab from the motel and sat quite close together in the back. She had very little to say and she stared so sullenly out window that you almost could mistake her for a hostage. I paid the driver out of my purse and together we got out in front of the restaurant. It was dark by now and I took her arm there on the sidewalk before leading her inside.
The restaurant was a very nice place for this small corner of the world and our table was somewhat in the back, in a dimly lit corner where it was nice and quiet. The table was round and polished redwood and there was a vase sitting in the center with a sprig of pink blooms inside it.
The waiter bought us a glass decanter of water along with some glasses and asked us what we'd like. Ms Swan hadn't even glanced at the menu and she didn't glance at the waiter either. I ordered for her, a cold cucumber and cubanelle soup with cashews and chives followed by caramelized chipotle chicken, and she did nothing but sigh as if she'd rather just sit here without eating anything at all. I was actually rather surprised at her attitude. Last night she had been so docile but as the day wore on she seemed to have become bolder and bolder.
Once the food arrived she did nothing but ignore it, which seemed particularly childish to me. She had no problem eating at the motel, so why was tonight different? Because I was trying to make it nice? How rude of her, to try and ruin our date like that. But I knew how to deal with unruly dates, so I put my hand into my handbag and reminded her that the pistol was inside. There was a bulge in the leather that could tell exactly where the barrel was pointed—at her.
Finally she seemed to come to her senses a little. She didn't seem convinced that I would blow her away in the middle of a romantic restaurant—and to be honest, I probably wouldn't have—but she didn't want to risk it either. So she picked up her spoon and began to sip her soup sullenly. As she did, her eyes lowered to the phone sitting on the table beside the purse, as if she wanted to somehow get her hands on it for whatever obscure reason. I probably should've put it out of sight in the bag to keep it from preying on her thoughts too much but I suppose there was no harm in leaving it out to taunt her.
I had nothing to eat for myself but I was content to watch her and make small talk. Once she had finished I asked if she wanted dessert. She said no and I wondered aloud if I was supposed to take that to imply she wanted to go early for other desserts. She gritted her teeth at that and then finally snatched up a menu to select something sweet. She opted for a chocolate mousse and I greatly concurred with the wisdom of her choice. I had very few memories of being human but one of them was the first and only time I had tasted chocolate. The delicacy had only just been invented when I was a girl and I had never tasted anything so sinful. Ms Swan listened to the tale as she ate her mousse and she even seemed half-way fascinated as I recounted stealing an entire brick of it that had been imported from Spain and sold in a market in London.
After she was finished her dessert I ordered a coffee as well so that she could relax a little before we left. She looked so perfect there in the restaurant, dressed in black with her long dark hair spilling all over her pale shoulders, the heartshaped locket sitting there against the black cloth. She sipped her coffee and looked about the restaurant with her huge dark eyes. There was a string quartet on a stage—a composition of violins and cellos—and a dancefloor that was completely empty. I followed her eyes and back to her.
"I'm pleased you've been so well-behaved today," I said, leaning on my elbows to smile at her all smitten-like. "I think you might even deserve a reward."
"You could let me go," she suggested, mostly just to annoy me, I suspected.
I smirked and ignored her. "Any other suggestions?"
She shrugged a bare shoulder and then looked up tentatively. "You could not touch me tonight."
This time the request did seem genuine. I smiled and actually considered it for a moment but I honestly didn't think I could do it.
"I'm afraid that's quite impossible as well," I said. "Do you have any idea how scrumptious you look tonight?"
She looked away. She was going all sullen again and a veil seemed to drop over her dark eyes, as if she were wilfully detaching herself from everything around her. I tilted my head and smiled at her.
"Am I really that repulsive to you, Ms Swan?" I asked honestly.
She looked at me dryly. "What do you think?"
I found the subject fascinating and I pursued it in a moderate tone of voice. "What is it you object to the most? The fact that it's against your will? Or the fact that I'm a woman?"
She glared at me and didn't answer. I smiled innocently.
"I'm just curious," I said. "Would you prefer if I was a man?"
She screwed up her face. "No."
"No? Would it not be more natural to you?"
"I'd prefer not to by kidnapped in the first place, you fucking sicko."
"Ah. Of course."
She snorted in disgust and looked away. I seemed to have touched a nerve and I chided my own tactlessness. I suppose when a girl is kidnapped it's sort of silly to try and isolate any discomforts aside from the kidnapping itself.
Still, I couldn't deny I was curious how she felt about me physically. Her body and her mouth sent quite an array of mixed signals. Maybe talking it over would even help her come to terms with it.
"You mentioned that you've never been with another girl before," I said casually.
She glared at me as if there might be a trick question in that. "I haven't."
"So how do you like it?"
"I don't."
"Not at all?"
"Of course not."
I wasn't surprised by her flat refusal and I wasn't all that convinced, either. I smiled and flickered a sort of knowing look at her chest and torso. "I think your body might disagree."
"Shut the fuck up," she snapped. "What would you know?"
"I know when a girl is attracted to me. Against her will or not."
She shook her head and ignored me, looking across the restaurant. There were more tables over there and booths in the back with couples or parties of three or four seated at them. I smiled at her.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," I said. "I've always enjoyed the company of other women. Ever since I was a girl like you. Only back then there were certain expectations of a woman. You didn't question them."
She turned her dark and unimpressed eyes back to mine. "You're a dyke."
I chuckled at her bluntness. "Well, not quite," I said. "James was quite male, I do assure you. But now that he's gone and the times have changed perhaps it's time to re-examine that part of myself. Looking back at my time with James I wonder if I really did feel how a woman is supposed to feel when she's with a man. We had a tremendous regard and respect for each other, of course, but…"
I lifted a hand and gestured with it, a turn of the wrist something like a shrug. Then I lowered the hand again and sighed.
"Do think you it's possible for a woman to go five hundred years without realizing she's gay?" I asked.
"I don't know," she said uncomfortably. "How the fuck would I know?"
"Yes, I suppose you wouldn't," I said. Then I smiled and brightened up and again gazed at her adoringly from across the table. "In any case, I suppose the proof is sitting right here in front of me, isn't it? I don't believe I've ever felt this way about another person and I'm sure it's due in a large part to certain characteristics of your gender. Your cuteness, your softness. Your tits. I like being the dominant one, I think."
She didn't reply to any of that. She just sat there looking uncomfortable and trying to ignore me. I smiled and studied her.
"What about yourself?" I asked.
She frowned. "What about me?"
"If your frequent orgasms at my hand are any indication perhaps it's time for you to re-examine your orientation as well, hm?"
"I don't think so."
"No?"
"No."
"Let's try and experiment then. Come, give me your hand."
I placed my hand on the table, palm up. She looked at it, her brow furrowed. Violin music continued in the background. I smiled and waited and finally, after a long hesitation, she sighed and reached and placed her hand in mine.
I was surprised I didn't have to threaten her at gunpoint again. There even seemed to be a certain boldness to it, as if she thought maybe going along with it would prove she wasn't. But that remained to be seen. I let my fingers close loosely around her hand, just to hold it. To feel it's warmth. It's slender bones. Watching her face, letting the touch become intimate. Stroking her hand with the ball of my thumb.
She looked at me, frowning, and away again. Her eyes drifted over an oilpainting on the wall in a gold frame and then they came back and flittered over the handclasp and away once more. She was doing a marvellous job of pretending it was no big deal but she didn't fool me.
"Well?" I asked softly. "What do you think?"
She didn't answer. I tried to read the expression on her face but mostly it was just a frown. A bit of denial, perhaps. A bit of disappointment too. In herself. All locked away in those beautiful brown eyes. They had averted again and she was staring at the phone that lay on the table before she looked away from that as well. I gave her another caress with my thumb.
"Would you like to dance?" I asked her.
"Do I have a choice?"
"None at all," I said, and then I smiled and rose with her hand still in mine.
She sat there for a minute, sighing, and then she rose as well.
The dancefloor was still empty by the time we sallied forth and our unusual partnership did draw a glance or two. Me in my red dress, the girl in black, the two of us moving slowly on the spot with her hand in mine and her other hand on my shoulder. I watched her, my eyes drifting over her face, her body, the pendant against her top. My own hand was at her waist and in my heels I was at least a few inches taller than her. She was staring at my collarbone to avoid looking at my face but she didn't know her downcast only made her even more attractive.
We danced in silence for a few minutes and I allowed myself to reflect on how different it was from dancing with a man. With James. I wasn't all that surprised to discover I enjoyed the contrast a great deal. Her hand and her waist were very slight and fragile in my hands. All of her was so slight and fragile. So small. I had always known I enjoyed the sexual side of things with other women but lately I was beginning to realize I liked everything else as well. The intimacy. The companionship. Perhaps it really was a shame in how the two of us met. If she had been a vampire when I first came upon her things could've been very different.
Although perhaps it wasn't too late. The girl was obviously attracted to me and so far I hadn't really done anything totally unforgivable to her. Aside from murdering her father, of course, but let's be honest: was that really such a big deal? I didn't think so. She would be distraught when she learnt the truth but in time I thought it might be possible to win her over. To turn her into a vampire like me. Into a partner. A mate. The thought was strangely thrilling. I had fantasized about killing her for months but now new fantasises were occurring to me. Fantasies of feeding with her instead of on her. Sharing the prey between us and making love in a frenzy of blood and passion for hundreds of years to come.
The girl looked up. Her eyes had darkened and she seemed uncomfortable at the silence. As if she would rather argue than simply let me enjoy her. I smiled at her and stroked her hand with the pad of my thumb, still slightly astounded at how wonderful her touch felt.
"Tell me honestly, Ms Swan," I murmured as we danced slowly to that aria of violin music. "Is my seduction working?"
She snorted and looked aside. "You wish."
I smiled at her stubbornness. "It wouldn't be so unnatural for you to be attracted to me, you know," I said. "Bad girls like bad guys. Or sexy evil female vampires, as it were. And we both know, you're a very bad girl, don't we?"
"Don't flatter yourself," she muttered.
"You'll admit it soon enough," I told her with a smirk. "You can't help it."
"I wouldn't bet on it."
"You will. Right now you're still in denial."
She glared up at me in almost a snarl. "I don't have to deny the fact that I don't like being kidnapped and raped by some psycho lesbian whore."
I chuckled softly. "Evidently you do."
"I don't think so."
Smiling, I gave her a twirl there on the dancefloor. She didn't seem much swept off her feet but at least she went along with it, spinning on the spot under my hand, pouting, angry, glaring at me as I once again settled my hand at her lovely waist. I smiled at her and we continued to sway in the gentle melody of the violins.
"Humor me, Ms Swan," I told her gently. "Flirt with me."
"I'd rather not."
"How come? You're already dancing with me. Not to mention the kinds of things you'll be doing to me once we get back to the motel room. Would flirting really be so much worse?"
She glared at me and didn't answer. I smiled and caressed her hand with my thumb.
"Give me a compliment," I said. "Admire my dress."
She pursed her lips tightly to make sure her mouth was clamped tightly shut. I smiled at how cute it was but I was actually quite serious in my request for a compliment. I was still stroking her hand but now I tightened my grip on it, closing my fingers around hers until they were all mashed together.
She tossed an anguished glanced at her compressed hand and her mouth loosened for a little whimper at the pain. Her eyes came back to mine and I smiled with all her frail fingers in my cold iron grip.
"Do it," I whispered. "Or I'll break your hand."
And yet she still didn't reply right away. She glared at me and flickered her eyes grudgingly over my dress and after a while she seemed to decide that either the dress was actually worth a compliment or her stubborn refusal wasn't really worth a broken hand.
"Fine," she muttered. "It's a nice dress."
I eased the pressure on her hand and smiled. Even if the compliment hadn't been quite genuine, the flush of delight the I felt was. "Thank you," I said. "That's very nice of you to say."
She snorted and looked away. At first I thought she was just being stubborn again but then I noticed a shininess in her eyes and I realized she was almost in tears. I wondered if maybe I had hurt her hand worse than I thought but it wasn't that. She turned back to me and her eyes went hard and dark again.
"You know what the sick thing is?" she said. "You're right."
I raised my eyebrows, not quite sure what she meant. "About my dress?"
"About me," she said, glaring at me angrily. "I do think you're hot."
The confession, such as it was, took me completely by surprise, and a slow smile formed over my lips. I hadn't known how lovely it would be to hear from her own mouth and the words gave me a very acute shiver of desire. But it was sort of out of the question to rape her on the dancefloor, so I forced myself to calm down and accept the compliment with grace.
"Well," I said, with a polite chuckle. "That's nice to hear."
She continued to glare up at me, glaring with a strange and half-nauseated intensity, and she said: "I loved sucking your tits last night."
My mouth dropped open.
I stopped dancing.
The coldness of her delivery did nothing to dampen the huge shuddering throb of lust that resounded within me. For a minute it felt like I was going to fall apart right there on the dancefloor. Did she just say what I think she said? About my tits? I had still been reeling from her confession that she found me attractive at all but this almost slayed me. She couldn't possibly be serious. There had to be something I was misunderstanding, but what?
"Oh," I said, laughing it off strangely. "Now you're just teasing me."
She observed my reaction with a hint of cunning in her dark eyes and she spoke again, just as coldly as before. "Is there anything else you want me to say?"
"No, no, that will be sufficient," I said, tittering another awkward laugh. "I'm actually quite flustered."
I released her hand and used my own hand to fan myself. Vampires didn't blush but good lord. Deep inside something had occurred inside me, a great churning of emotions and desires that I had never felt before.
We were standing there in the center of the dancefloor, not dancing, and I had no idea how to resume or even go back to our table. I really was completely frazzled. The girl watched for a minute, sharing none of my excitement it seemed, and after a moment she lost patience.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she said.
I nodded to give her permission. "Yes, go ahead. I'll meet you outside when you're done and we can go back to the motel room and…"
I trailed off, actually too shy to finish the sentence. Good heavens, what was happening to me?
She nodded as well, without looking at me, and then she walked past me and continued on.
I didn't turn to watch her. I stood there in center of the dancefloor, calmly trying to collect myself. I was actually breathing fast from the excitement even though vampires didn't need to breathe. I was tingling very intensely between my legs and in my breasts and the heart that had sat like a lump in my chest for over five hundred years was suddenly ablaze with…what?
I didn't know and this was no time to analyse. All I knew was that I had to get the girl back to the motel room as quickly as possible. Now that she had admitted she was attracted to me, everything was going to be different. She would still be very stubborn, of course, but it was only a matter of time now until she allowed herself to be mine. I was going to fuck her as thoroughly and lovingly as she needed, for as long as it took, until eventually she was convinced that my regard for her was quite a bit deeper than mere prey, and then—
But I was getting ahead of myself. I took a deep breath and tucked some hair behind my ears. The first thing to do was to simply enjoy tonight.
My legs felt slightly wobbly as I made my way off the dancefloor and I had to smile at the sensation. If only the girl knew how much power she really held over me. It truly was a shame we couldn't have met under more pleasant circumstances, but then again, perhaps it was more fun like this. Taming her had already proven to be some of the most thrilling experiences of my life and there were going to be many more experiences like it.
My handbag was hanging from the backrest of my chair at the table and my purse was sitting on the table itself. I reached for the bag and slung it over my shoulder and then I stood there staring at the purse for a moment.
The phone was gone.
For a long time I just blinked at that blank space of polished tabletop beside the purse where the phone had been all night. Someone had stolen it. And I knew exactly who, didn't I?
All the elation I had felt as I came off the dancefloor was dissipating and in its place something darker was moving in. Had she lied to me? Was it merely a ruse to distract me so that she could steal the phone and sneak off somewhere to call someone? I had been so positive she was genuine. So happy. Her confessed enjoyment of my body had been the first step toward an entire future of possibilities. For both of us. But it was bullshit. She lied to me. She made a fool out of me. She—
I snatched the purse off the table and stalked off toward the bathroom. My furious march caused heads to turn at tables I passed but it was Ms Swan who ought to be afraid.
I pushed open the bathroom door angrily and found her huddled in the corner with the phone. If she had been a little smarter she would've fled the restaurant to call from somewhere safer but no one ever said she was a genius. There were two other women there as well, both of them at the sinks, and they both looked up as I burst through the door. Ms Swan had her back to the room, facing the corner with the phone at her ear, and now she spun around and saw me and the ice cold fury in my face.
"Oh god," she said.
I walked over to her and snatched the phone with one hand and gave her an almighty slap across the face with the other.
The sound of it was like a firecracker in that small tiled bathroom and the force of it flung her against the wall.
"Hey!" shouted one of the women at the sink. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
The girl whimpered but she didn't scream, she just clutched her cheek and looked at me with her round eyes full of fear. It was the fear that saved her life. If there had been even a hint of her usual impudence in those brown orbs I would've simply slaughtered her on the spot, witnesses or not.
The other woman remained silent, looking on in anxiety, but the first one approached the girl in concern.
"Hey, are you alright?" she asked. "Do you need me to call the police?"
"No," the girl said, shaking her head frantically. "I'm fine. I'm fine."
The woman looked at me suspiciously and back at the girl. "Are you sure?"
I glared at the woman and at her silent friend and finally at the girl. I had the urge to kill all three of them and maybe the entire restaurant as well but instead I grabbed her wrist roughly and yanked her toward the door.
I didn't even pay for dinner, I just marched her directly out of the restaurant and started shoving her down the sidewalk. The night had turned cold and there was a small smattering of stars. The girl had left the coat back at the restaurant and she was already rubbing her bare arms.
Neither of had us spoken and I was almost confused at how irrationally angry I was with her. Usually I found her disobedience cute but this time I was absolutely enraged. It was the duplicity of it. The way that she sweet talked me on the dancefloor only so that she could distract me. She hadn't exactly outwitted me but she did fool me. I was humiliated. And more than that, I was…I was…
Hurt?
Yes. Hurt. I had believed her when she said she was into me. I thought it was special moment. A hint of things to come. I thought my days of loneliness were soon to be over. But it was bullshit. She wasn't attracted to me. She hated me. She was disgusted by me. She always was. How stupid could I have been to believe any different, even for a moment? Was I really this desperate to replace James? I had kidnapped her, for god's sake. Of course I was repellent to her. And yet she had made me believe. Made me believe that maybe, just maybe…
I shook my head and gave her another shove to vent my frustration. She tripped and half-stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk and she glared at me as she recovered her balance.
"Quit fucking pushing me," she said.
A blaze of rage went over me and suddenly I grabbed her and threw her against a wall. She grunted as the back of her head bounced off the bricks. I shoved her again and growled and I was more tempted than I had ever been to rip her to fucking pieces.
"Shut your mouth, Ms Swan," I seethed at her. "You have no idea how upset I am with you right now."
She grasped my wrists and tried to push them away. "Fuck you," she spat, glaring at me and trying to kick at my shins with her boots. "I'll fucking kill you."
Her threat was so utterly inane that a tiny ray of amusement managed to glimmer through my red cloud of rage. I held her against the wall for a moment but a car passed in the street behind me and I knew it wasn't safe to assault her like this in public.
So I let her go and grabbed her arm instead to continue pushing her down the sidewalk.
"Who were you trying to call?" I demanded, because I honestly had no idea who she thought could help her.
"My dad," she muttered.
I glanced at her. So she still hadn't figured out he was dead. The clues were there but she continued to completely overlook them. "Did you speak to him?"
"No," she said. "He never picked up."
"Be grateful he didn't. You would've done nothing but get him killed."
She jerked her arm out of my grip but she kept walking. "I wasn't going to tell him to come get me," she retorted. "I'm not stupid."
"I think we'll have to disagree on that last point."
"I was only going to tell him to give Edward a message if Edward shows up there."
"What message?"
"That it was you who took me."
I stopped. She stopped as well and when she saw the look in my eyes it slowly dawned on her that she shouldn't have admitted that. That she should've made up something else. She had been trying to deflect my ire from her father but in doing so she refocused it entirely on her.
I glared at her and shook my head, barely containing my disgust and rage. "You wanted your mate to be prepared," I said. "So that he would have an advantage over me."
She was beginning to get afraid again, realizing that she may have actually crossed a line this time. A car passed in the street and her frail form was washed up in the headlights, her black outfit, her pale shoulders. She swallowed and gave a shrug.
"I just wanted to warn him so he didn't get hurt," she said meekly.
But that was bullshit too. She knew it and I knew it.
What she really wanted was for him to kill me.
I didn't know why that hurt me so much but it did. Deep in my stomach like a dagger lodged there. It didn't make sense why I should feel like that. It was perfectly reasonable of her to want rescue. And it would be just as reasonable of me to simply laugh and pat her silly head. But something had changed on that dancefloor. Something had clicked into place from her confession and then been broken again by her betrayal.
I shook my head at her. She was struggling under the silence and the anger in my eyes and after a moment she said very quietly:
"I'm sorry."
I shook my head and looked away. Beyond the rage there was sadness too. Because she did cross a line. I couldn't forgive her for this.
"I'm afraid it's too late for that," I said, snatching her hand. "Come with me."
I jerked her along and she trotted at my side like something on a leash.
The motel was a ten minute walk away and along the way I tried to talk myself out of it. But I couldn't. If her father had still been alive she might've actually succeeded in helping her mate assassinate me. Until now her little escape attempts had only been minor and amusing inconveniences. But this was more serious. I suppose I really had underestimated her. I thought she would be weak enough to break and tame and even enslave but maybe she wasn't. Maybe I was just fooling myself in thinking she could fill the void left by James. Maybe she was too strong or maybe it was me who was too weak. As much as I liked being the dominant one perhaps I just wasn't cut out for it.
When we got back to the motel I unlocked it with the key from my handbag and shoved her inside violently before turning on the light and slamming shut the door behind us. She stumbled into the room and sat down on the bed. She hadn't spoken for a long time and she didn't speak now, she just watched me fearfully as I began to pace back and forth in front of her. I was trying to decide what I should do with her but in the end there was only one thing left.
I shook my head and glared at her where she sat on the edge of the bed.
"This was a mistake," I said. "I should've just killed you when I first came for you."
Her face drained. "What?"
I scoffed, mostly at myself. "I don't know what I was thinking taking you with me. It was pointless. You've been nothing but an annoyance and that's all you're ever going to be."
"Then let me go," she said suddenly, her eyes round and desperate.
I looked at her and snorted, astounded that she even thought that was a possibility. She was sitting there on the edge of the bed with her palms on the mattress either side of her, as if she was going to spring up at any moment. Her knees were clenched together and I leered at the hem of her black miniskirt where it draped across her thighs before looking back to her face and saying:
"Actually, I was just going to kill you."
Her face crumpled in fear at that but she didn't give up. "Please," she said. "I don't know why you took me either. Maybe you were just lonely. Maybe you just needed company. But whatever the reason, I know you don't want to hurt me. And you don't have to. You could just let me go."
"I don't want to hurt you?"
"I know you don't."
Suddenly I snatched her off the bed and grabbed her face, clutching her chin in my hand so that I was glaring directly into her eyes. She groaned at the pain and tried to turn away.
"Tell me again I don't want to hurt you," I whispered to her in a deadly soft voice. "Tell me. Go on. Tell me I don't—"
She spat on me.
The spittle landed directly on my mouth and the gesture enraged me and turned me on so much that I shoved my mouth on hers so hard it almost broke her teeth. She moaned and struggled but that only turned me on more until I was kissing her with my tongue so violently it felt like I was wanted to kill her with it. I didn't know what had come over me. I had never attacked her like this before but I had also never felt like this before.
Growling into her mouth, I reached behind her and grabbed her ass, groping it roughly under her skirt. I squeezed the softness there and dug my fingernails into it painfully and she groaned and squirmed and finally lifted a knee into my midsection.
The knee couldn't harm me, of course, but it did break the kiss. Her face was more full of rage than my own and she took advantage of the pause by making a dash for the door. But I grabbed her hair and threw her back onto the bed. She landed with a bounce, her skirt flipping up her reveal a pair of soft looking black cotton panties. That flash of underwear provoked me more than anything. She scrambled on the bed and raised up with her black hair in a furious storm around her head and I slapped her back down again.
She grunted and fell back and raised up again into a second slap and then a third and even a forth until finally she was too groggy to get back up again. She groaned and clutched her face and rolled onto her stomach. Her ass came up into the air without her realizing it and I took the opportunity to jerk down her skirt and panties before taking her entire posterior in my hands like a gigantic apple and biting into it.
I have no idea how I managed to not break the skin or even why. I wanted to destroy her body so badly and yet I only bit hard enough to hurt. She screamed and jerked her butt away and landed on her back, groaning and still groggy from that succession of slaps. So far neither of us had spoken. There was no way she could bring herself to beg and no way I was going to try and be gentle. Her legs were hobbled in her miniskirt and panties and now I pulled them off and threw them aside. Her legs were entirely naked aside from her boots and she kicked at me with them feebly. I grabbed her ankles and wrenched them open and then I swooped at her pussy with my mouth.
She was inexplicably soaked and she only got wetter as I ate her out, shoving at her folds with my tongue until she cried and climaxed in a little shuddering orgasm. Her legs flopped down and she whimpered and tried to roll over, her hair all stuck to her sweaty face, but I crawled on top of her and kissed her mouth aggressively before shoving two fingers into her vagina. She groaned at that and tried to twist away but it was no use. I looked at her face and pumped my fingers, in and out of her sloppy wetness, and soon she just gave up and stared at me with glazed over eyes as she succumbed to a second orgasm.
After that she just closed her eyes and lay there. Beaten. Broken. The heartshaped locket draped to one side of her neck on its chain like something that had choked her. Her breath was gasping in and out and I gazed at her blank and beautiful face with real pain in my heart. It didn't have to be like this. It really didn't.
But it was and there was nothing I could do about it, so I got off the bed and began smoothing down my dress. It had gotten quite disarrayed. She opened her eyes and looked at me, laying there with her legs splayed, wearing nothing but that lacy black tanktop, and breathlessly she said:
"Are you going to kill me?"
I didn't look at her, focusing instead on correcting the wrinkles in my dress. "You've left me no choice," I said. "You crossed a line."
"I tried running away before and you never killed me."
"This time you didn't try to run away, you tried to conspire to have me killed. I'd be foolish to let you live after this."
She drew her legs together and rolled onto her side before sitting up. I watched her. Her cheek was swollen from all the slapping and there was several bruises already showing on her pale legs. A great deal of fear had come into her eyes but it didn't seem to be a fear of death.
"I'm sorry," she said.
I didn't let myself believe it. "No, you're not," I said. "Get up. I can't leave a crime scene here. Put your skirt back on."
She struggled off the bed and stood there a bit wobbly. She looked at her skirt on the floor but she made no move to pick it up. She turned back to me, pantless, wearing only that top, and her face was in that same strange mask of regret and anguish.
"I'm sorry," she whispered again.
I forced myself to keep my face stern. She sounded like she actually meant it but I knew that was impossible. The only thing she was sorry about was the fact that she was about to die.
"It's too late," I said.
She stood there, nibbling her lip, hugging herself loosely with her arms. She looked up at me imploringly with her huge brown eyes. "Please," she said. "I'll never do it again. I promise."
I didn't answer. I stared at her. Her behaviour was bewildering. She had just been violently raped and she didn't seem traumatized in the least. On the contrary, she seemed…satisfied?
What the hell was wrong with this girl?
She must've seen the weakness in my eyes because now her own eyes sharpened. She even managed to summon up a smile on her smudged and swollen mouth.
"You were right," she said. "I made a mistake. I shouldn't have done it. It was stupid."
"Finally we agree," I quipped in an unsteady voice.
She smiled again at that and the mysteriousness of that smile was clenching my insides into a gigantic knot of excitement. She lifted a hand and placed it on my shoulder gently.
"I could make it up to you," she whispered. "Just give me another chance. Okay?"
My mouth had filled with venom and now I had to swallow it down. Her hand gave my shoulder a soft caress that actually made me shiver. She noticed it and smiled and then she stepped back and pulled her top off.
The reveal of her breasts struck me to my core. Because she had done it deliberately. Willingly. The gesture made me want to leap at her and take her all over again but instead I froze. Was this a trap? How could it be? What—?
But my thoughts were unable to keep up with my rushing emotions. I stared at her, my eyes flittering from breast to breast, both of them so soft and lovely, the heartshaped locket I had bought for her this afternoon sitting just a bit a higher on her chest against all that beautiful nakedness.
That strange smile lingered on her mouth as she let the top fall to the floor and now she was entirely naked aside from the necklace and a couple bracelets. She lifted her eyes to mine and stood there coyly as if presenting herself. Her hair was a dark wig of dishevelledness on her head and her makeup was all smeared. Paths of tears in pale black mascara streaks. Lipstick smudged across one cheek.
"I'll do anything you want," she said. "Just don't kill me, okay?"
I didn't speak. I couldn't. My throat was completely closed over. I had never felt like this before. Ever. Not once in five hundred years had I—
She placed her hands on my neck, tentatively, as if to ask for permission. I was stunned. She seemed to read in my eyes that her plan was working and now she lifted onto her toes and placed a kiss on my lips.
The kiss was soft but there was nothing hesitant about it. Nothing disgusted. It was unlike any kiss she had ever given me and it made my heart soar in a way it never had before. My eyes fell closed. She had my face cupped in her hands and now she pressed her lips more firmly. She even moaned. I let my mouth open and her tongue came in gently. So gently. So gently and so fucking warm and wet. The kiss disabled me so much that I couldn't even return it. All I could do was stand there and enjoy the attention of her mouth until finally she rocked back on her heels and disconnected our lips.
I had already changed my mind about killing her but she didn't stop there. She smiled at me and then she put her hands on my breasts. It was almost too much to handle but I managed to contain myself. She touched them a little bit through the cloth, stroking them and massaging them, seeking permission, and then she unzipped the dress.
The zipper was on the side, under my arm, and after she had it unzipped she slipped away the shoulder straps. The dress fell and pooled at my feet. Excitement swept over my body in a white wave of electricity. She had been looking down at my body as the dress came away but I had been looking at her face. Was that real excitement in her eyes? Or fake?
She lifted her dark eyes back to mine and placed her hands back on my breasts. Those eyes were stained with makeup and tears but there was absolutely no anguish in them now. Her hands were caressing the outsides of those huge globes on my chests and now she lowered her eyes to look at them. She massaged them for a bit and felt them up and then she leaned and licked at one of my nipples. I hissed in a breath. I still hadn't spoke. I was afraid of frightening her or ruining whatever was happening. Even if she was only doing it to save her life, it felt fucking amazing. She was sucking at my nipple by now, gentle little suckles, and then she moved onto the other one and licked the nipple and twirled her tongue around the hard nub of it and licked it again before taking it into her mouth.
My chest was heaving from the excitement no matter how much I tried to hide it. She went back and forth between my nipples, as if she actually like them, and then finally she raised up and smiled at me, still with her hands on my breasts.
"Do you want to lay down?" she asked.
I couldn't have answered even if I wanted to. The lust that was coursing through me was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I could hardly move but I managed to do what she said. I crawled onto the bed and laid down and lay there gazing at her as she climbed after me. Her breasts swung softly from her chest. Teasingly. The heartshaped pendant dangled from the necklace. Her lips were smiling and she crawled directly between my legs and knelt there.
I was wearing nothing but a pair of those crimson colored panties I had bought. My arousal at her maddening display of obedience had leaked through the material and my upper thighs were slathered. I had my legs completely open and she was kneeling between them. Tentatively, she touched the front of my panties, and my whole body flinched. That seemed to excite her. The only reason she was doing this was to save her life and yet I strongly suspected there was some part of her—deep down—that was not so different than what I was.
Smiling, or even smirking, she peeled aside my panties to reveal the wet mound of my womanhood. Right now it belonged completely to her and she seemed to realize it. She petted it gently with her fingertips, looking at it, and then she lifted her eyes to mine.
"If I do this," she said. "You won't have to hurt me, right?"
I nodded without even thinking about it. All my talk of breaking her. At this rate it was going to be her that broke me.
But she saw the nod and it made her smile and then she lowered her mouth and began licking at my entrance. I tossed my head and moaned and I almost wanted to cry from how nice it felt. Her tongue was so warm and she wielded it in a way she never had before, with what felt like genuine curiosity and hunger, the tip of it probing at all of my nooks and crannies and the flat of it licking up against my folds and flicking at my clit.
It didn't take long for me to climax and it was one of the most marvellous orgasms of my existence. I enjoyed it with my eyes closed and a low moan, my head tossing left and right as my body heaved and buckled. She remained right where she was, laying facefirst into my pussy, and she continued to lick it for a long time afterward, lapping up all my moisture, moaning softly, licking idly and yet with purpose like a pet trying to win affection from its owner. I opened my eyes and watched her as she did so, the top of her head bobbing up and down, all her focus on my vagina. I had the distinct suspicion that her motives were more than just saving her life and that maybe she was even just using that as an excuse to indulge these darker urges that had been brooding inside her all along. She was licking me down there and making me moan and now she kissed the insides of my thighs and the flat of my tummy and my chest as well as she crawled up between my legs, pausing at my breasts to fondle them some more and suck at my nipples, before continuing up to my face. She kissed my chin and the corner of my mouth and the briefest glimpse I had of her eyes was that of a girl lost in lust.
Her mouth finally connected to mine and she kissed it and let her tongue inside and moaned and I moaned as well and wrapped my arms around her. I could feel the tips of her breasts dipping onto my chest so warmly and softly and finally she whispered into the kiss.
"Does this mean you won't kill me?"
I rolled her over onto her back and cupped her face to gaze into her dark and lidded eyes. They were blank of everything aside from a sort of vacant passiveness and I smiled at them.
"For now," I whispered, and then I pressed my lips onto hers.
—