POV: Nikolai
I hadn't been thinking when I bit into her neck. The consequences just didn't seem as important as my burning need to know what she tasted like, to have her blood inside me. She was louder than I had ever expected her to be, and tighter than I could have dreamed. I was concerned that someone walking outside would hear us and poke their head around the door just to check, but at the same time, after wanting her for so many weeks, I was having too much fun watching her enjoy herself. I had wanted to bring her home and do as I please to her for the weekend, but she looked too shell-shocked once I had finished with her.
I walk from my house to the bar. Yesterday evening I had no fantasies that anything would come about from fucking her, it just felt like an itch I desperately needed to scratch, but now I have no idea what to expect; they always become clingy after you bite them. When I walk through the door, she's stood behind the bar, arms crossed over her chest and looking at me with a face like thunder. Instantly, I want to bend her over again and fuck the bratty behaviour out of her.
I stand at the bar, in the exact same spot I stood when I was inside her. I rub the varnished wood with my hand, right where she humped her way to her orgasm.
“A pint?” She says loud enough for the few other people to hear.
“Yes please, Eva.” She blushes when I say her name.
“We need to talk,” she whispers furiously, again reminding me of a kitten thinking it's a tiger. She walks out from behind the bar and towards the cellar door. “Can you help me with those... boxes?” She asks loud enough for everyone to hear. I shrug and walk after her; the customers are all too old and absorbed in their drinks and cards to suspect anything, but I find it endearing on her part.
I shut the door after me and follow her down the steps into the cellar. The air feels cold and musty, and it smells of old, sour beer.
She turns around and glares at me, her hands balled into tiny fists.
“You bit me,” she says, almost in a hiss. She's wearing a turtle-neck jumper, but when she pulls the collar down, the teeth marks I left on her neck are gone. “It healed last night, and the mark went away about an hour ago.”
I shrug. Nothing to do but come clean. “My saliva speeds up the healing process. It's no good killing someone with one bite, it's wasteful – better to savour them over a few days.” I wink at her.
She covers her face with her hands. “I don't believe you,” her voice sounds small.
I sit down on the steps leading up to the pub and tug the hem of her jumper to pull her closer to me so that she stands in between my legs. She's so petite that we're just about the same height now.
“You don't believe me?” I try to sound soothing. Her eyes are wide again, and she's starting to look uncomfortable and afraid.
She shakes her head, her hands clasped and held to her chest, as though she's trying to hold herself together.
“Are you a little sore from yesterday?” I rub my hand along where her pussy is over the jeans she's wearing. “Take these off and I'll prove it to you.”
It gets her to smile a little, but she rolls her eyes as though she thinks I'm not being serious. She looks at me properly for the first time since yesterday, and touches my cheek. Her hands are soft and I can smell an array of scents: the perfume she uses, sweet and heady; the beer and cider she has pulled, tangy and sour; her shampoo, like coconuts; and the sweet smell of her body, just her individual scent. If I inhale deeply enough I can smell myself on her from yesterday evening.
“You look different.” She's not smiling any more. She's frowning at me, like she's irritated, like my presence and the fact I have a face that changes slightly is pissing her off. I find it quite cute.
“It was your blood. It keeps me young. I've been abstaining for a while, so I guess I got kind of old.” I was delighted when I got home and looked in the mirror to see that I had practically gone back to my thirties once again. My body felt stronger and healthier, my hair was almost rid of the grey, my face was no longer as gaunt and wrinkled, and my skin had more elasticity.
“So you're... a vampire?” she whispers the word like she's about to be laughed at for saying it.
“You could call it that if you want, but we don't really like that word. We're immortal as long as we have a host. Wooden stakes to the heart aren't going to work, and neither is sunlight. I've also grown quite fond of garlic, but it's terrible when I smell it leaking from people's pores.”
She laughs, a loud and bitter bark and I can see she still doesn't believe me, which I understand – most people take a lot of convincing. She shakes her head and pushes past me, stomping up the steps back into the pub.
“You're a lunatic,” she tells me before she opens the door and walks off.
POV: Nikolai
Johannes' house is an old barn conversion away from the city, all glass fixtures and oak panels, bare brickwork and modern furniture. I sit opposite him, trying to ignore the young girl rubbing my thigh. She looks seventeen at best, and I already know she won't last long – his humans never do. This one is called Katya. I take her hands off me, her bony arms offering up no resistance; she is as uncomfortable as I am. “Thank you, but there's no need.” I tell her.
She holds her wrist up to my face, offering me a bite. I have no doubt she tastes amazing, but I feel bad for the girl. I shake my head. Her eyes look tired and devoid of any life. She looks like she should still be in school and gossiping with friends, and instead she somehow found herself in this apartment with nobody but a millennium old sociopath for company.
She looks at Johannes, and he pats the small space beside him on the couch, where she slinks off to. She sits there quietly, offering nothing to the conversation, showing no change in emotion, and staring at nothing in particular. I think a cat would be just as interesting, and then I remind myself that a cat could never suck Johannes' dick.
“So now what?” I ask him. After all these years, as flawed and cold as he is, Johannes is my only family, if he can be called that. He turned me into the immortal I am, taught me how to survive and shared most of what he had with me. I love him like a brother, a friend and a father, and at the very least believe he deserves my loyalty.
“Well, where is she?” He asks. His hair is a pale strawberry blond, quite long but usually tied up, as it is now. He hasn't shaved the stubble from his cheeks and chin in a few days, and apparently he's been lazing in his kimono all day.
“She's at work,” I shrug. “It was an unplanned mistake. I don't know her, she doesn't know me.” I drank the pint Eva had pulled for me when I returned from the cellar, and quickly left the pub. It felt frustrating to be so close to her and pretend that we weren't glancing over at each other and looking at the spot where we had fucked. I knew she was feeling the same, because now I feel what she feels – I'm not affected by it, but I'm aware of it nonetheless. It was like having my own horny and sheepish frustration mirrored back at me and amplified. So I left.
“Make sure she doesn't go running her mouth off,” he tells me, leaning forward. The existence of people like us is something we all collectively agree on keeping a secret from most others. “Nobody would believe her, but it's not like we need the hassle of shutting her up.”
“She doesn't believe it herself,” I tell him.
He claps his hands together once. “Problem solved, then.” He stands up, bored, and moves to stand behind my chair, clasping his hands down on my shoulders. He clicks his fingers and gets the human girl's attention. He speaks to her in Russian: “give him a good time,” he says.
I try to protest, but Johannes is insistent, and I realise he's bored of her. The novelty has worn off when his girls are passed around, and I know he will have gotten rid of her by the end of the week at the latest, she'll either be dead or on the streets.
She gets off the sofa and crawls towards me on her hands and knees. Johannes hasn't been feeding this one, and I can see the bones move under her skin as she gets closer. She smells like she's rotting from the inside out. She fumbles with the buttons on my jeans when she reaches me, and eventually pulls my member out. She tries her best to arouse me, she really does, but I just feel bad for the girl. I close my eyes and think of Eva while this stranger attempts oral sex on a flaccid penis. I think about putting her in her place while she's in such a mood, seeing her crawl across the floor towards me on her hands and knees, soft creamy breasts hanging down and begging to be played with, unlike this girl. I think about making her sit at my feet, giving her little face gentle slaps every time she pouted or frowned. I think about her huge eyes, and how something so innocent looking can make you want to do such bad things to it.
I'm erect now, and I can feel Katya stroking my balls, but there is no enjoyment in it because her eyes are glazed over, and she's somewhere else, but so am I. I grab the cord from the silky dressing gown she's wearing and tie her hands together. Her gown falls open and reveals her naked body underneath: two nipples above a ribcage, and legs that go on forever but look painfully thin. I turn her around and sit her down on my cock. She lets out fake moans mechanically, and starts bouncing up and down like a mad woman. The noises she makes are distracting me from the sounds I imagine Eva would make again, so I tell her to shut up. I bark it at her like an order, and she obeys without putting up any kind of fight. How boring.
I slap the side of her thigh as hard as I can without trying to fracture any of her delicate bird bones, and a red hand-shaped welt instantly appears. She moans like she's trying to pretend she likes it, because she doesn't understand that sometimes pain is just the point of pain. You're not hitting someone to spice things up, or because they'll enjoy it, you're doing it because you want to see the pain on their face, the tears in their eyes and the fear that you're building up inside them. You want to see how far they'll let you take it, and with this girl I already know I could take it as far as I wanted without any protest at all.
I grab her face and pull her head back to expose her neck to me. I apologise in Russian so that she can understand, and I let my teeth break through the paper thin skin of her neck and right down into an artery. Again, she moans at first, until she realises I'm not about to stop and Johannes doesn't care enough about her to make me. She struggles against me, but she's so fragile I can barely feel it. I close my eyes and gulp down as much blood as I can, it slides metallic and warm down my throat.
I'm thinking about eating Eva's ass when I finally finish inside the girl on top of me, but her heart has stopped beating at that point and I'm essentially coming inside a blood soaked corpse. I shower before I leave, washing her stench off me. I shout to Johannes that I'm done, and then I'm straight out of the door and on my way to Eva's house.
POV: Eva
It's almost midnight when I hear the car pull up outside my house. I'm curled up on the sofa at my cousin's rented house where I've been staying over the summer – it offers me more freedom than staying with my parents, who I've never really been close with. I don't understand how I know it's Nikolai even before he knocks on the door, especially since he should have no idea where I am, but my stomach flutters with excitement when Beth pokes her head around the living room door and tells me someone's here to see me.
Her eyes are mischievous when she sits back down. “It's a guy,” she whispers. “He's really cute, E.” She's a few years older than me, and her beauty astounds me. Her eyes are deep, seductive green and they compliment her dark features perfectly.
I shuffle to the front door in my slippers and pyjamas, feeling nervous but excited. As soon as he left the bar this afternoon I could do nothing but think about him, and it felt completely irrational. I spent the rest of the day trying to distract myself – watching films, reading my book, cooking, browsing for clothes online – but nothing managed to keep my thoughts away from him for more than a few minutes.
He's leaning against the frame of the door when I see him, and he looks almost unrecognisable. His black hair seems thicker than this morning, and the grey is completely gone. There are no laughter lines around his mouth or his eyes, and he appears even bigger – taller and broader somehow, and more toned.
He looks at me apologetically. “I'm sorry for stalking you at such an ungodly hour,” he says quietly.
“How did you know where I live?”
He shrugs. “I just knew.”
“Well, how did you know I was awake?”
He shrugs again. “I just knew.”
I don't know why, but they both seem like acceptable answers. I had been feeling strange things all day, and in my pining for him I didn't much care about how he made his way to me.
“Can I come in?” He looks down at me, a smile playing at his lips that tells me he already knows how badly I want him to come inside.
I take his hand and lead him up the stairs and into my room. Beth doesn't ask any questions, and I'm grateful for it.
I sit on my bed, expecting him to join me, but he walks around the room, picking things up and looking at them carefully. The room is a decent size. It fits a double bed in the middle of it, as well as a wardrobe, a chest of draws and a small desk by the window.
“Why are you here?” I ask him, though not judgementally.
He looks at me like it's the most obvious question in the world. “I wanted to see you.” He towers above me, and makes the room feel small. He lifts my chin up gently, so I'm looking at him. “Did you want to see me?” He asks me softly, and his voice makes me want to rip his clothes off.
I nod.
He kneels down in between my legs and pulls me to the very edge of the bed so we're almost on top of each other. He kisses me long and deeply, but it's tender enough for me to not have to fight very hard to pull away after a while.
“Can we talk?” I ask, feeling determined.
He nods his head once, his eyes are bright and they watch me like an animal.
“I don't usually sleep with strangers.” I say slowly. “Or older men. And they've never bitten me before.”
“We're not strangers, Eva.”
I shrug his reply off. “Well, family friends... customers, whatever...”
“I didn't mean to bite you,” his eyes move down my body and I feel naked. “I couldn't help myself. I wanted to know what you tasted like.”
“Well, why do I feel so different?”
“You're blood is still inside me, so I can feel what you feel. We're connected. You're my..” he pauses and looks around like he's trying to figure out what to say. “You're my human, I guess.” His hands move along the tops of my thighs, up through the polka dot shorts I'm wearing for bed, and take hold of my hips. They're so big they can wrap almost all the way around me, and he interlocks his fingers at the small of my back. He's getting tired of talking.
“How old are you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He moves his hands and lifts my pyjama top over my head and discards it somewhere, his eyes hungrily taking me in. My breasts are bare and they feel like they're on fire when he cups them in his hands and teases them.
“Old enough to be your father,” he whispers in my ear.
He kisses my neck.
“Your grandfather.”
Kisses my collarbones.
“Your great grandfather.”
Kisses each breast and takes my nipples in between his teeth, nipping them gently before his tongue darts out to caress them with small circular motions.
“Your great great grandfather.”
Kisses a line down my stomach.
“Probably a few more great grandfathers after that, too.” He smiles, looking like he's been caught doing something wrong, before he slides my shorts down my legs.
I sit on the edge of my bed completely naked, while he is still wearing his jacket and boots. I go to remove his jacket, but he takes my hands away from him and puts them on my lap, telling me “not yet.”
He turns me over as though I'm as light as a doll, and pushes me down into the bed, so my behind sticks into the air in front of his face.
“I've been thinking about doing this all day,” he says, and it sounds like he lets out a sigh of relief.
I glance over my shoulder, his voice making me nervous. “Doing what?” I ask.
He slides his fingers into my pussy, and they glide in with ease. I must be dripping.
“No more questions now, baby,” he coos, and pushes his fingers deeper inside.
I press my face into the bed to stifle a moan.
I feel his breath on me, and before I can think of anything else, I feel his tongue, wet and warm and soft, against my ass. He moves it in tiny circles before pressing his face closer to me and gliding his tongue from the back of my pussy, up and over almost to the very bottom of my back in warm, hungry licks.
He pushes another finger inside and I feel about ready to burst. I grind against the edge of the bed, against his fingers and his face and reach my first orgasm of the night just a few seconds after. I bury my face into the bed, and start to shake with the effort it takes to keep quiet.
When I'm finished, he flips me over onto my back and I help him undress. His torso is lean and hard underneath my hands, and the trail of hair that starts at his belly and disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans makes me excited. Together, we take everything off, and I'm shocked when I see the size of his cock properly for the first time. I take it in my hand and it's impossible not to feel intimidated by it.
He pushes me onto my back and places my feet on both of his shoulders. The height difference makes it difficult, but he leans over me so that my ankles are almost by my ears. He pushes himself into me, and I cry out in pain and delight, still sore from the pounding yesterday, but still wanting more.
“Such a tight girl,” he whispers, and it sounds like praise.
I run my hands through his hair, and pull big tufts of it as I try to remind myself to be quiet.
He puts a hand over my mouth and tells me I can moan as loud as I like at his place, but it would be rude to disturb people here. The next time I moan too loudly for his liking, he gives my face a gentle but firm slap, and I feel my cheek burn a little.
He covers my mouth again when I reach my next orgasm. His lower abdomen had been grazing over my clit with every thrust, and when he picked up the pace, I felt like I was about to fall apart at the seams.
I manage another two orgasms after that, by the end of my fourth one I almost cry, and I beg him to finish inside me. He complies, and when he finally reaches his climax, he holds me so tightly I fear I might break.
He tucks me into bed when we're both ready, making sure that my feet are warm and I'm cosy enough to drift off before he lies down under the covers next to me. I can feel him watching me as I drift in and out of sleep for a while, and occasionally I feel the gentle nip of his teeth against my breast. There's a sharp pain that rouses me when he breaks the skin, but he shushes me back to sleep and I drift off again as he sucks and licks the little wound every so often, happy to let him do so.