Maera's Storm
Title: Maera's Storm
Pairing: OFC/OMC
Category: Original Fiction
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, Vampirism
Word count: 3800
Authors Note: Below is my humble offering at vampire erotica.. please, read, enjoy, concrit, comment, love... PIMP if you like it.. but be HONEST! THANKS A BAZZILLION TO THE BEST BETA ( AND FRIEND) IN THE WORLD
maab_connor !! Without her this story never would've become what it did!
After dinner one evening I go for my usual walk to stretch and clear my head. It is dusk and I can smell a storm coming. Early autumn storms are the best. Knowing the route well, I walk past the farms and deserted fields emptying my mind and trying to draw down the storm. Leaves swirl around me as the wind picks up; I hear a twig snap and think nothing of it. Thunder rumbles in the distance and I can smell ozone. The storm is getting closer.
There is a clearing in a vacant lot, more like a grove of trees that I’ve never noticed before. I check to make sure no one is around and look for signs warning against trespassing. Seeing none I wander in. It’s a peaceful spot, untouched by local litterbugs. I lean against one of the trees to center my thoughts and cleanse my mind.
Gazing up at the sky, watching the roiling clouds, I feel as though I myself am being watched. Not threatening, just a prickling at the back of my neck. “Maera” seems to be whispered on the breeze. I look back around the clearing, letting my eyes adjust to the settling dusk, and see nothing. As I turn back towards the road, towards the mostly set sun, lightning flashes and I see something, not more than a shadow really. When the light clears, I’m still looking in the same direction, in an almost sharp relief, but there is nothing there. Shaking my head at my imagination, I start walking, leaving the grove and heading towards home.
A few nights later, I’m out with my girlfriends when I feel the same sensation of being watched. We’re walking down the street, going from dinner to the club, chatting and people watching, when my neck tingles. I look around, but no one seems to be paying me any attention, caught up in their own conversations or cliques. I try to ignore it as I get in line behind the girls to go inside the club. I hear the music floating out at me; a nice, deep and steady bass, but not too heavy, as we pay the cover to get inside.
We get a table and order our drinks as we watch the bodies moving together on the dance floor. Some bump and grind, some dance close and intimate. Some are in groups, just doing their own thing. We’ll dance later, once we’re nice and loose from the alcohol. I notice my ex on the dance floor with a willowy blonde. Laughing, I point him out to the girls, who all roll their eyes. I hope that poor unfortunate girl doesn’t hope to be tossed down, tied up and fucked like he means it, because she’ll be sorely disappointed. My neck prickles again and I quickly search the dance floor, but I see no eyes looking towards me.
I look towards the bar, and meet his eyes. He’s near the far end, and steps back out of the light after meeting my gaze. Strange, I couldn’t see his face, just his eyes. I wonder if the wine has fuzzed my brain already. I want to see more, and make sure I’m well seen, so I tell the girls I’ll be right back and I head towards the bar.
I take a stool near the end and, waving off the bartender, I look around. He places a drink in front of me anyway and I ignore it, still looking for my observer. I feel a breath ghost across the back of my neck, and a chill runs down my spine, tightening my nipples. I start to turn my head, to confront whoever it is, and something holds me back, tells me not to. Instead, I pick up the drink, sip, put it down and wait.
The vacant seat next to me now has an occupant, though I never saw anyone sit down, nor did I feel the heat of another’s body. I can’t see him clearly, even with him right next to me. It’s like my vision is being blurred. I turn to look at him and my eyes focus on his so quickly my head swims. His hand on my elbow steadies me.
His eyes are beautiful, almost a whiskey color, with green in them. He seems to hold me still with his gaze as the background noise, lights, and sounds of the club fade away to nothing. I can feel my heart racing; hear the blood rushing in my ears. I can still only see his eyes, and a vague outline of his face and his body, but no details. It’s as if he doesn’t want me to see him yet.
In my head I hear a whisper of “Soon” and it sends another chill down my spine. He leans over and ghosts his lips across my cheek before sitting back and releasing my arm. As he does, he seems to fade away, seems to just not be there anymore.
I lean back on my stool, and blink, shaking my head to clear it. That brings a fresh wave of dizziness over me. I slide off the stool, abandoning the drink and make my way back to the girls. I tell them I’m feeling a little light headed and I’m going to call it a night. They pout and fuss but let me go; at least one of them will call me to check in tomorrow.
Once home, I treat myself to a long, hot soak in the tub, turning over what I can remember of the evening in my mind. It bothers me that parts of the night are fuzzy, that they make no sense. I can’t remember why I went over to the bar area, nor do I know why I all of a sudden felt strange and left. That’s unlike me; I tend to obsess over the details.
I get into comfortable shorts and a tank and slide into bed, the windows cracked open and the curtains swaying in the autumn breeze. Lying on my side, I stare out the window at the branches dancing in the wind and drift off to sleep but not before I think I see eyes among the leaves.
I awake the next morning blinking and unsettled. My body is aroused and wet and my nipples harden as I remember bits of the dream. I dreamt of the man from the bar. I can feel his hands trailing over my body, the weight of him pressing against me. I don’t know who he is, or why I’m attracted him, or how I even know that he wants me.
I take a quick shower, dry off, and continue getting ready for work, unable to completely clear the dream from my mind. Throughout the day at work, every time it quiets down, I hear his whispered promise of soon in my head. As I was getting ready to leave, I heard it so clearly, I whipped around to see if he was there, but I was completely alone.
As I get ready for bed that night, I pick it apart for the hundredth time while brushing my long, auburn hair. Soon what? I’ll see him again? He’ll tell me who he is? He’ll administer the Vulcan Neck Pinch? I roll my eyes at my own absurdity before pulling a shirt over my curvy figure and settling into the pillows for the night. That night he invades my dreams again. I don’t know how I know, but he has long hair. He’s taller than me, broad in the shoulders. I still can’t truly see him. I have no memory in the morning of what he looked like, only that he wants me; that I seem to want him as much as he does me.
Over the next few days, he, or rather his promise, is never far from my mind. How I know it was a promise, I can’t say. It just seemed more a promise than a threat. If I don’t learn more about him or his purpose, he’ll drive me to smoke again, and I don’t want that.
I come home from work after a few days of this, tense and needing a walk. I slip into my favorite sandals and head out once again towards the farms and fields. It’s a beautiful path, especially at dusk. I wonder if he’ll be watching me tonight. Will he let me know he’s there as he did last time, or remain hidden? How long has he been watching me? Why can’t I get him out of my mind?
About a mile from home, my neck tingles, and that familiar sensation washes over me. I look about, turning my head in time to see him falling into step beside me. We keep pace with each other, walking casually, not talking. It’s not the awkward silence of strangers, but the companionable silence of old friends or lovers.
Out of character for me, I keep silent. I don’t feel the need to fill the silence with words. He seems to know my mind already. That should bother me, I know it should…but it doesn’t. I look out of the corner of my eye, taking him in. He’s tall, over six feet. His hair is thick and curling, tumbling down his back any way it wants to. His shoulders are broad, as I had thought, but he’s not skinny. He’s solid, but graceful. He seems very light on his feet for such a large man. He seems content to follow where I’m leading.
The wind is mild, but fragrant, smelling crisp and earthy; the leaves chase here and there around our feet as I lead him towards the grove. I like the calm there, and I hope I can get him to talk to me a bit. I see the clearing up a ways, and head in that direction, our shoulders brushing occasionally. I feel at ease with him, as if I’ve known him before, though I don’t remember him. I don’t even know his name, but he draws me. I suddenly realize I’ve linked my arm with his. I feel shy, but lean into him a bit instead of releasing him. I’m conscious of my hands feeling slightly clammy, my heart beating a bit faster.
As we enter the clearing, he looks around, taking in his surroundings. He seems amused, a small smile gracing his lips before his face is a blank once more. I stop in the clearing and just breathe in the wind, looking up at the stars. It’s a gorgeous view without the lights to mar it. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I turn to ask him something only to see him watching me the way I was watching the stars. My words are lost as he slowly leans forward and lightly presses his lips to mine.
My body responds instantly to this small contact, my nipples harden, shivers tingle all over, a ball of heat forms low in my belly. His lips feel cool against mine, but I ignore it and open my mouth slightly to deepen the kiss feeling a scrape as he nibbles at my bottom lip. He pulls back and I see fangs recede into his mouth as he licks his lips. I close my eyes against dizziness and when I open them seconds later, he is gone. I lick my lips and taste blood.
On my walk home, I keep running the kiss through my mind. Did he really have fangs? Was I imagining things? Vampires aren’t real…are they? Is that why I couldn’t sense a body next to me at the bar; because there was no body heat? He should scare me, why doesn’t he? I crawl into bed when I get home, quickly falling asleep and into dreams of him.
I awake after a restless night. I kept waking up to feel I was being watched, but I didn’t see him or sense him once my eyes were opened. It didn’t make for a restful night’s sleep. I get ready for work and head out the door, but spend most of my day in a complete fog, unable to concentrate on anything but that kiss.
I get home, drop my stuff and just walk. I need to clear my mind. I head in a different direction, hoping a change of scenery will help. Breathing deep and steady as I walk, I feel my shoulders start to release some of their knots, and my neck let its tension go. The sun hasn’t quite set yet and dusk is beginning clear and crisp, trees still holding on to most of their leaves.
I sense him all around me, watching, but I can’t see him or even sense where he is hiding. It’s as if he’s everywhere and nowhere. Or I could just be losing my mind; lack of sleep and all. I look up only to see myself walking by the clearing, and not remembering how I got to be there. I head home and have some tea. I draw a lavender and chamomile oil bath and read for a while by candlelight, trying to relax before heading to bed for another restless, dream-filled night.
The week creeps by in a routine. Wake up, go to work, drag my feet, get home, take a walk, take a bath, go to bed, dream of him. I keep to my walks hoping to see him, always feeling him, but he won’t show himself. I find myself in the clearing again and again, even though I go in different directions to avoid it. It’s as if he is drawing me there, only to tease me and keep himself hidden.
Has he found another to play hide and seek with? Has he lost interest because I now seek to find him, because I dream of him? When will he show himself to me again? Will he show himself again at all?
I spend the weekend with friends out of town, hoping that if I get away a while that this will all just go away on its own, but he plagues my thoughts there too. My best friend and heart sister, Denise, tries to keep me busy with hiking in the mountains, and flirting with my favorite eye candy, but nothing keeps my mind occupied for long. I was beginning to think that the feeling of being watched was just my imagination, but I didn’t feel it at all while I was in the mountains and that worries me a bit. Was something wrong? Was he okay? Or was I really living in my head too much?
I head home Monday after a three day weekend, getting in just before sunset. There is a storm building. Lightning strikes faintly in the distance and I can see the far off thunderheads, but nothing much here yet. I change into a long, flowing skirt, pull my hair back loosely and head out the door to the clearing. I need to be there, but I don’t know why.
As I walk, I breathe in the scent of ozone, the crisp yet electric scent of the storm. It’s coming closer, the clouds are moving fast above me. The closer I get, the stronger that now welcome feeling of being watched becomes. I don’t know how or why I know, but he seems …different. I look around for him as I approach the edge of the clearing, catching but a glimpse of him in the distance as lightning flashes. Dry leaves swirl around my ankles and dust blows in my face in the breeze. With a second flash, he’s gone again.
I sense him closer, but still can not see him or feel him.
Lightning flashes, but only at the edge of my vision, as if my sight is blocked. I start to turn around but my arms are pinned to my sides. He presses me against a tree with his body, my face against the rough, scratchy bark and his voice in my ear tells me not to fight; it will only cause me pain. My body seems to calm even as it starts to tremble with fear, tears filling my eyes, but refusing to fall. I nod to him, letting him know I will submit; I will give myself to him for the taking.
As if I weigh nothing, I’m lifted up and away from the tree. I feel his body behind me, but he has no warmth. His arm snakes around my waist from my left, pinning that arm while grabbing hold of my right wrist, pulling it down away from my face and pinning it to my side. The other hand pulls me tight against his body, rubbing my hip in hypnotic circles as thunder crashes and the ground rumbles.
His hand slides up over the swell of my hip, up and over my stomach and clutches at my breast, crushing me back against his chest. His long nails graze my nape, causing small hairs to rise as he pushes my long hair away from my neck. He kisses my neck gently, lightly scraping his teeth, his fangs, against my neck causing me to gasp. An involuntary moan escapes me as he sharply nips and then suckles my right earlobe. The arm restraining me releases my wrist.
He slides his hands back over my body and down to my crotch, the heel of one palm pressing against my mound as he cups his fingers to rub and tease my clit through my skirt and panties. I push my hips against his hand as my head falls back on his shoulder, rolling to the side and baring my neck; my body arching into his touch when I feel him bite. His first bite is hard enough to shock, to please, even hurt a little, but he’s not breaking skin… yet. His tongue soothes the sting as he pulls my skirt up and his fingers slide into my pussy, slowly starting to fuck me. Drops of water land on my upturned face, burning the scratches from the tree--- It’s raining. Thunder rolls low in the distance. He groans.
He’s in front of me now, with my back to the tree, fingers still fucking me as he crushes me to him for a searing kiss. I neither sensed nor saw him move. He guides me to the ground so that I’m beneath him. Lightning flashes and I can see my watcher, my obsession, clearly for the first time. He’s tall and broad, but well built. Black hair shot through with grey pulled back loosely and tied in a tail, pieces escaping at the front. Powerful brown, almost whiskey colored eyes.
He kisses his way down my body and bites me, hard, on my inner thigh, making me cry out. I feel the warmth as the blood trickles down my thigh and dripping to the ground, gasping as he suckles and licks at the wound, sending waves of pleasure through my body and satisfying himself with a taste.
As he crawls back up my body, I hear his breath quicken, his skin starting to warm against mine from just that little taste. He bends down to lick from my collarbone to my jaw as his knee spreads my legs wider. He is naked in all his glory, though I never saw him disrobe. He thrusts his cock into me with such force that my body lifts from the ground. Moaning, I struggle to wrap myself around him, unable to move my arms or legs, as if I’ve been drugged by his bite, though he’s no longer restraining me.
He thrusts again, just as deep, not quite as hard. He thrusts again; grinding his pelvis against mine. As his cock impales me, I feel his breath on my neck near my shoulder. Thunder rumbles again. The ground seems to tremble violently with it. The rain starts to fall faster. He sets a hard, steady rhythm as he nuzzles and licks at my neck, at the pulsing artery there. I need to come. I want release, but not yet… I don’t want this to end yet.
His thrusts are faster. His breathing is ragged. Lightning flashes as his mouth opens and I see his fangs extending, my body feels like its on fire, fear and arousal fighting for dominance. He thrusts hard one last time, and pulls out, rolling me onto my knees. He slides himself back into me, his cock twitching as he starts to pound me again from behind. His hands close around my breasts, kneading at them, twisting my nipples as he pounds me. I feel his chest against my back as I feel his lips on my neck, his mouth open, teeth grazing against my skin. He bites where my neck meets my shoulder, breaking the skin, locking his mouth on the wound as he starts to suck.
Arousal wins. My body explodes. I smell the blood; feel the sting on a thousand different nerve endings as my whole body is wracked and twisted with the orgasm. His thrusts become deeper, and harder again as he drinks from me. Skin slaps as his hips jerk sharply, slamming into me again and again. He withdraws his teeth, still licking and kissing at my neck, no longer drinking. He pulls me up and back against him, my back against his chest, my head on his shoulder again as he continues to pound into me.
One hand slides down and between my legs, rubbing my throbbing clit, making me cry out as another orgasm tears through me, my pussy clenching around his cock as he pounds me still. His body stills against my twitching, jerking body, holding me to him as he thrusts one last time, releasing my neck completely as he fills me with his seed. He growls as his orgasm plows through him, throwing his head back, letting his hair blow in the wind. His hunger for my blood and my body seem sated for the time being.
He leans forward again to lick and clean my wound as he pulls out of me, his arms wrapping around me and holding me close. He releases me as smoothly as his claiming me was rough. I’m too weak to protest with more than a whimper, and have nothing to offer him. I turn my head, offering up the pale, unbroken skin on the other side of my neck.
He stands, and his low, quietly sensual voice again promises me “Soon…”as he laughs darkly and disappears into the night, leaving me to make my way home as the rain runs down my body washing me clean of the grove and I think about how to live with being watched and being owned.
Pairing: OFC/OMC
Category: Original Fiction
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, Vampirism
Word count: 3800
Authors Note: Below is my humble offering at vampire erotica.. please, read, enjoy, concrit, comment, love... PIMP if you like it.. but be HONEST! THANKS A BAZZILLION TO THE BEST BETA ( AND FRIEND) IN THE WORLD
maab_connor !! Without her this story never would've become what it did!
After dinner one evening I go for my usual walk to stretch and clear my head. It is dusk and I can smell a storm coming. Early autumn storms are the best. Knowing the route well, I walk past the farms and deserted fields emptying my mind and trying to draw down the storm. Leaves swirl around me as the wind picks up; I hear a twig snap and think nothing of it. Thunder rumbles in the distance and I can smell ozone. The storm is getting closer.
There is a clearing in a vacant lot, more like a grove of trees that I’ve never noticed before. I check to make sure no one is around and look for signs warning against trespassing. Seeing none I wander in. It’s a peaceful spot, untouched by local litterbugs. I lean against one of the trees to center my thoughts and cleanse my mind.
Gazing up at the sky, watching the roiling clouds, I feel as though I myself am being watched. Not threatening, just a prickling at the back of my neck. “Maera” seems to be whispered on the breeze. I look back around the clearing, letting my eyes adjust to the settling dusk, and see nothing. As I turn back towards the road, towards the mostly set sun, lightning flashes and I see something, not more than a shadow really. When the light clears, I’m still looking in the same direction, in an almost sharp relief, but there is nothing there. Shaking my head at my imagination, I start walking, leaving the grove and heading towards home.
A few nights later, I’m out with my girlfriends when I feel the same sensation of being watched. We’re walking down the street, going from dinner to the club, chatting and people watching, when my neck tingles. I look around, but no one seems to be paying me any attention, caught up in their own conversations or cliques. I try to ignore it as I get in line behind the girls to go inside the club. I hear the music floating out at me; a nice, deep and steady bass, but not too heavy, as we pay the cover to get inside.
We get a table and order our drinks as we watch the bodies moving together on the dance floor. Some bump and grind, some dance close and intimate. Some are in groups, just doing their own thing. We’ll dance later, once we’re nice and loose from the alcohol. I notice my ex on the dance floor with a willowy blonde. Laughing, I point him out to the girls, who all roll their eyes. I hope that poor unfortunate girl doesn’t hope to be tossed down, tied up and fucked like he means it, because she’ll be sorely disappointed. My neck prickles again and I quickly search the dance floor, but I see no eyes looking towards me.
I look towards the bar, and meet his eyes. He’s near the far end, and steps back out of the light after meeting my gaze. Strange, I couldn’t see his face, just his eyes. I wonder if the wine has fuzzed my brain already. I want to see more, and make sure I’m well seen, so I tell the girls I’ll be right back and I head towards the bar.
I take a stool near the end and, waving off the bartender, I look around. He places a drink in front of me anyway and I ignore it, still looking for my observer. I feel a breath ghost across the back of my neck, and a chill runs down my spine, tightening my nipples. I start to turn my head, to confront whoever it is, and something holds me back, tells me not to. Instead, I pick up the drink, sip, put it down and wait.
The vacant seat next to me now has an occupant, though I never saw anyone sit down, nor did I feel the heat of another’s body. I can’t see him clearly, even with him right next to me. It’s like my vision is being blurred. I turn to look at him and my eyes focus on his so quickly my head swims. His hand on my elbow steadies me.
His eyes are beautiful, almost a whiskey color, with green in them. He seems to hold me still with his gaze as the background noise, lights, and sounds of the club fade away to nothing. I can feel my heart racing; hear the blood rushing in my ears. I can still only see his eyes, and a vague outline of his face and his body, but no details. It’s as if he doesn’t want me to see him yet.
In my head I hear a whisper of “Soon” and it sends another chill down my spine. He leans over and ghosts his lips across my cheek before sitting back and releasing my arm. As he does, he seems to fade away, seems to just not be there anymore.
I lean back on my stool, and blink, shaking my head to clear it. That brings a fresh wave of dizziness over me. I slide off the stool, abandoning the drink and make my way back to the girls. I tell them I’m feeling a little light headed and I’m going to call it a night. They pout and fuss but let me go; at least one of them will call me to check in tomorrow.
Once home, I treat myself to a long, hot soak in the tub, turning over what I can remember of the evening in my mind. It bothers me that parts of the night are fuzzy, that they make no sense. I can’t remember why I went over to the bar area, nor do I know why I all of a sudden felt strange and left. That’s unlike me; I tend to obsess over the details.
I get into comfortable shorts and a tank and slide into bed, the windows cracked open and the curtains swaying in the autumn breeze. Lying on my side, I stare out the window at the branches dancing in the wind and drift off to sleep but not before I think I see eyes among the leaves.
I awake the next morning blinking and unsettled. My body is aroused and wet and my nipples harden as I remember bits of the dream. I dreamt of the man from the bar. I can feel his hands trailing over my body, the weight of him pressing against me. I don’t know who he is, or why I’m attracted him, or how I even know that he wants me.
I take a quick shower, dry off, and continue getting ready for work, unable to completely clear the dream from my mind. Throughout the day at work, every time it quiets down, I hear his whispered promise of soon in my head. As I was getting ready to leave, I heard it so clearly, I whipped around to see if he was there, but I was completely alone.
As I get ready for bed that night, I pick it apart for the hundredth time while brushing my long, auburn hair. Soon what? I’ll see him again? He’ll tell me who he is? He’ll administer the Vulcan Neck Pinch? I roll my eyes at my own absurdity before pulling a shirt over my curvy figure and settling into the pillows for the night. That night he invades my dreams again. I don’t know how I know, but he has long hair. He’s taller than me, broad in the shoulders. I still can’t truly see him. I have no memory in the morning of what he looked like, only that he wants me; that I seem to want him as much as he does me.
Over the next few days, he, or rather his promise, is never far from my mind. How I know it was a promise, I can’t say. It just seemed more a promise than a threat. If I don’t learn more about him or his purpose, he’ll drive me to smoke again, and I don’t want that.
I come home from work after a few days of this, tense and needing a walk. I slip into my favorite sandals and head out once again towards the farms and fields. It’s a beautiful path, especially at dusk. I wonder if he’ll be watching me tonight. Will he let me know he’s there as he did last time, or remain hidden? How long has he been watching me? Why can’t I get him out of my mind?
About a mile from home, my neck tingles, and that familiar sensation washes over me. I look about, turning my head in time to see him falling into step beside me. We keep pace with each other, walking casually, not talking. It’s not the awkward silence of strangers, but the companionable silence of old friends or lovers.
Out of character for me, I keep silent. I don’t feel the need to fill the silence with words. He seems to know my mind already. That should bother me, I know it should…but it doesn’t. I look out of the corner of my eye, taking him in. He’s tall, over six feet. His hair is thick and curling, tumbling down his back any way it wants to. His shoulders are broad, as I had thought, but he’s not skinny. He’s solid, but graceful. He seems very light on his feet for such a large man. He seems content to follow where I’m leading.
The wind is mild, but fragrant, smelling crisp and earthy; the leaves chase here and there around our feet as I lead him towards the grove. I like the calm there, and I hope I can get him to talk to me a bit. I see the clearing up a ways, and head in that direction, our shoulders brushing occasionally. I feel at ease with him, as if I’ve known him before, though I don’t remember him. I don’t even know his name, but he draws me. I suddenly realize I’ve linked my arm with his. I feel shy, but lean into him a bit instead of releasing him. I’m conscious of my hands feeling slightly clammy, my heart beating a bit faster.
As we enter the clearing, he looks around, taking in his surroundings. He seems amused, a small smile gracing his lips before his face is a blank once more. I stop in the clearing and just breathe in the wind, looking up at the stars. It’s a gorgeous view without the lights to mar it. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I turn to ask him something only to see him watching me the way I was watching the stars. My words are lost as he slowly leans forward and lightly presses his lips to mine.
My body responds instantly to this small contact, my nipples harden, shivers tingle all over, a ball of heat forms low in my belly. His lips feel cool against mine, but I ignore it and open my mouth slightly to deepen the kiss feeling a scrape as he nibbles at my bottom lip. He pulls back and I see fangs recede into his mouth as he licks his lips. I close my eyes against dizziness and when I open them seconds later, he is gone. I lick my lips and taste blood.
On my walk home, I keep running the kiss through my mind. Did he really have fangs? Was I imagining things? Vampires aren’t real…are they? Is that why I couldn’t sense a body next to me at the bar; because there was no body heat? He should scare me, why doesn’t he? I crawl into bed when I get home, quickly falling asleep and into dreams of him.
I awake after a restless night. I kept waking up to feel I was being watched, but I didn’t see him or sense him once my eyes were opened. It didn’t make for a restful night’s sleep. I get ready for work and head out the door, but spend most of my day in a complete fog, unable to concentrate on anything but that kiss.
I get home, drop my stuff and just walk. I need to clear my mind. I head in a different direction, hoping a change of scenery will help. Breathing deep and steady as I walk, I feel my shoulders start to release some of their knots, and my neck let its tension go. The sun hasn’t quite set yet and dusk is beginning clear and crisp, trees still holding on to most of their leaves.
I sense him all around me, watching, but I can’t see him or even sense where he is hiding. It’s as if he’s everywhere and nowhere. Or I could just be losing my mind; lack of sleep and all. I look up only to see myself walking by the clearing, and not remembering how I got to be there. I head home and have some tea. I draw a lavender and chamomile oil bath and read for a while by candlelight, trying to relax before heading to bed for another restless, dream-filled night.
The week creeps by in a routine. Wake up, go to work, drag my feet, get home, take a walk, take a bath, go to bed, dream of him. I keep to my walks hoping to see him, always feeling him, but he won’t show himself. I find myself in the clearing again and again, even though I go in different directions to avoid it. It’s as if he is drawing me there, only to tease me and keep himself hidden.
Has he found another to play hide and seek with? Has he lost interest because I now seek to find him, because I dream of him? When will he show himself to me again? Will he show himself again at all?
I spend the weekend with friends out of town, hoping that if I get away a while that this will all just go away on its own, but he plagues my thoughts there too. My best friend and heart sister, Denise, tries to keep me busy with hiking in the mountains, and flirting with my favorite eye candy, but nothing keeps my mind occupied for long. I was beginning to think that the feeling of being watched was just my imagination, but I didn’t feel it at all while I was in the mountains and that worries me a bit. Was something wrong? Was he okay? Or was I really living in my head too much?
I head home Monday after a three day weekend, getting in just before sunset. There is a storm building. Lightning strikes faintly in the distance and I can see the far off thunderheads, but nothing much here yet. I change into a long, flowing skirt, pull my hair back loosely and head out the door to the clearing. I need to be there, but I don’t know why.
As I walk, I breathe in the scent of ozone, the crisp yet electric scent of the storm. It’s coming closer, the clouds are moving fast above me. The closer I get, the stronger that now welcome feeling of being watched becomes. I don’t know how or why I know, but he seems …different. I look around for him as I approach the edge of the clearing, catching but a glimpse of him in the distance as lightning flashes. Dry leaves swirl around my ankles and dust blows in my face in the breeze. With a second flash, he’s gone again.
I sense him closer, but still can not see him or feel him.
Lightning flashes, but only at the edge of my vision, as if my sight is blocked. I start to turn around but my arms are pinned to my sides. He presses me against a tree with his body, my face against the rough, scratchy bark and his voice in my ear tells me not to fight; it will only cause me pain. My body seems to calm even as it starts to tremble with fear, tears filling my eyes, but refusing to fall. I nod to him, letting him know I will submit; I will give myself to him for the taking.
As if I weigh nothing, I’m lifted up and away from the tree. I feel his body behind me, but he has no warmth. His arm snakes around my waist from my left, pinning that arm while grabbing hold of my right wrist, pulling it down away from my face and pinning it to my side. The other hand pulls me tight against his body, rubbing my hip in hypnotic circles as thunder crashes and the ground rumbles.
His hand slides up over the swell of my hip, up and over my stomach and clutches at my breast, crushing me back against his chest. His long nails graze my nape, causing small hairs to rise as he pushes my long hair away from my neck. He kisses my neck gently, lightly scraping his teeth, his fangs, against my neck causing me to gasp. An involuntary moan escapes me as he sharply nips and then suckles my right earlobe. The arm restraining me releases my wrist.
He slides his hands back over my body and down to my crotch, the heel of one palm pressing against my mound as he cups his fingers to rub and tease my clit through my skirt and panties. I push my hips against his hand as my head falls back on his shoulder, rolling to the side and baring my neck; my body arching into his touch when I feel him bite. His first bite is hard enough to shock, to please, even hurt a little, but he’s not breaking skin… yet. His tongue soothes the sting as he pulls my skirt up and his fingers slide into my pussy, slowly starting to fuck me. Drops of water land on my upturned face, burning the scratches from the tree--- It’s raining. Thunder rolls low in the distance. He groans.
He’s in front of me now, with my back to the tree, fingers still fucking me as he crushes me to him for a searing kiss. I neither sensed nor saw him move. He guides me to the ground so that I’m beneath him. Lightning flashes and I can see my watcher, my obsession, clearly for the first time. He’s tall and broad, but well built. Black hair shot through with grey pulled back loosely and tied in a tail, pieces escaping at the front. Powerful brown, almost whiskey colored eyes.
He kisses his way down my body and bites me, hard, on my inner thigh, making me cry out. I feel the warmth as the blood trickles down my thigh and dripping to the ground, gasping as he suckles and licks at the wound, sending waves of pleasure through my body and satisfying himself with a taste.
As he crawls back up my body, I hear his breath quicken, his skin starting to warm against mine from just that little taste. He bends down to lick from my collarbone to my jaw as his knee spreads my legs wider. He is naked in all his glory, though I never saw him disrobe. He thrusts his cock into me with such force that my body lifts from the ground. Moaning, I struggle to wrap myself around him, unable to move my arms or legs, as if I’ve been drugged by his bite, though he’s no longer restraining me.
He thrusts again, just as deep, not quite as hard. He thrusts again; grinding his pelvis against mine. As his cock impales me, I feel his breath on my neck near my shoulder. Thunder rumbles again. The ground seems to tremble violently with it. The rain starts to fall faster. He sets a hard, steady rhythm as he nuzzles and licks at my neck, at the pulsing artery there. I need to come. I want release, but not yet… I don’t want this to end yet.
His thrusts are faster. His breathing is ragged. Lightning flashes as his mouth opens and I see his fangs extending, my body feels like its on fire, fear and arousal fighting for dominance. He thrusts hard one last time, and pulls out, rolling me onto my knees. He slides himself back into me, his cock twitching as he starts to pound me again from behind. His hands close around my breasts, kneading at them, twisting my nipples as he pounds me. I feel his chest against my back as I feel his lips on my neck, his mouth open, teeth grazing against my skin. He bites where my neck meets my shoulder, breaking the skin, locking his mouth on the wound as he starts to suck.
Arousal wins. My body explodes. I smell the blood; feel the sting on a thousand different nerve endings as my whole body is wracked and twisted with the orgasm. His thrusts become deeper, and harder again as he drinks from me. Skin slaps as his hips jerk sharply, slamming into me again and again. He withdraws his teeth, still licking and kissing at my neck, no longer drinking. He pulls me up and back against him, my back against his chest, my head on his shoulder again as he continues to pound into me.
One hand slides down and between my legs, rubbing my throbbing clit, making me cry out as another orgasm tears through me, my pussy clenching around his cock as he pounds me still. His body stills against my twitching, jerking body, holding me to him as he thrusts one last time, releasing my neck completely as he fills me with his seed. He growls as his orgasm plows through him, throwing his head back, letting his hair blow in the wind. His hunger for my blood and my body seem sated for the time being.
He leans forward again to lick and clean my wound as he pulls out of me, his arms wrapping around me and holding me close. He releases me as smoothly as his claiming me was rough. I’m too weak to protest with more than a whimper, and have nothing to offer him. I turn my head, offering up the pale, unbroken skin on the other side of my neck.
He stands, and his low, quietly sensual voice again promises me “Soon…”as he laughs darkly and disappears into the night, leaving me to make my way home as the rain runs down my body washing me clean of the grove and I think about how to live with being watched and being owned.