A Taste of Blood

Grace, in turn, raked her eyes over him, taking in his massive frame. His muscles rippled as he moved, his broad shoulders leading down to thickly muscled arms and large powerful hands. His chest, naturally smooth, sat perfectly atop well toned abdominal muscles and a trim waist.

"Take of your pants," she ordered. "I want to see the rest of you." Without reservation, Tyler undid his pants, dropping them to the floor, leaving himself naked in front of her. Her eyes went to his groin, his penis perfect in it's hardness. It looked smooth and powerful, just like the rest of him. His pubic hair was short and sandy blonde, just like the hair on his head. His legs bulged with power, his thighs tapering to firm calves and large, wide feet. Scars covered his skin, reminders of a job that was violent at times. He looked perfect to her. Grace beckoned him to the bed and he obliged by climbing up next to her. She pushed on his chest and he lay back. She climbed onto him and sat on his stomach.

"You are mine," she began, her voice quiet as she leaned over and looked into his eyes. "Tonight, I was the hunter and you were my prey." She moved her mouth and bit his chest, digging her teeth into the skin. Tyler groaned and arched his back, trying to find a way to enter her while pushing his chest to her mouth.

She released his chest and grabbed his right hand, putting it against the brass bars of the headboard, followed by his left. She told him not to move and climbed over and reached into the drawer of her nightstand, producing two scarves. She mounted his chest; she was almost close enough for him to taste. She tied his hands in place, grinning down at him as she ground herself into his chest. Tyler could just feel her wetness through the fabric.

Grace leaned back up and traced a fingertip through her bite mark; each indentation feeling like it was on fire. She shifted her ass downward, brushing her covered pussy against his shaft, Tyler moaning softly. She nipped at this chest again, brushing her breasts against his stomach, smiling up at him as he thrust against her. Her hand slid between their bodies and stroked him gently, rubbing her thumb over the head, pulling her hand back up and licking the drop of his precum off of her thumb, looking into his eyes. She tucked a pillow under his head and winked at him, looking into his light brown eyes as she licked her way back down his stomach. She stuck out her tongue so he could see and he was reminded of Gene Simmons, the bassist for KISS. Her chin had to be four inches above his stomach and her tongue was still wetting his skin. His eyes bulged and he involuntarily thrust against her neck. She smirked at him and tilted her head and looking at his twitching cock.

Grace guessed him to be almost eight inches long and while not overly thick, he was going to be a handful. She grasped his rod and stood it straight up, rubbing it across one silky cheek, crossing her soft, wet lips and to the other cheek. She brought it back to her lips and licked the underside of the head, right in the sensitive little 'v' making him tremble. Grace surprised him by standing up and then bending over at the waist, her black hair dropping from her shapely back over her shoulder in it's ponytail, pulling his cock upright and pointing it at her mouth, opening wide and slowly taking all of his length into her mouth, Tyler groaning as he passed into her throat.

She pulled off of him and kneeled between his legs, looking up at him, her eyes tearing up ever so slightly. Her hand worked up and down his spit-covered shaft, her tongue snaking out and wrapping around his head, turning it this way and that. She moaned, licking up his sweet precum.

Tyler strained again the scarves, wanting to touch her. Grace chuckled and went back to sucking on his cockhead, taking in only an inch or so, bobbing on it slowly as she wrapped both hand around his shaft, one on top of the other and using them to stroke upwards as she bobbed down, pulling down on him as she sucked upwards. Her tongue worked him constantly as she moved, adding another sensation to her already expert technique.

When Tyler thought she couldn't do anything to make this any better, Grace started twisting her hands in opposite directions as she stroked him, feeling his breath catching in his throat and his eyes rolling backwards as she pleased him like no one ever had. Just then, she began turning her head side to side as she sucked. It was too much and he throbbed hard, feeling his insides spurting out of his cock as he unloaded into her mouth, Grace moaning as she swallowed a load he began to think would never end. But end it did, though Tyler felt like he had been in his orgasm for a solid hour. She licked him clean and crawled up, untying his hands from the bed frame.

Once his hands were free, she kissed him softly on the lips. Grace climbed off of the bed and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She pulled down her panties and kicked them into a small pile with her bra, her garter belt and stockings remaining. Without a word, she climbed back onto the bed and lowered his arms to his sides and straddled his upper chest, her wetness only a couple of inches from his lips.

"Any last words," she asked, licking her lips. "Before I smother you with this delicious pussy?"

Tyler looked up from her bare pussy lips, past her thatch of pubic hair, up her body and finally to her brown eyes. He smiled up at her and answered. "Ride 'em, cowgirl."

Grace smirked and moved her pussy to his waiting mouth. Tyler gently brushed his tongue along the edge of her lips, making her sigh and shift, trying to get him to lick here or suck there. He shoved his tongue into her and licked her hard, bringing his hands up to cup her muscular behind.

Grace bucked on his tongue, grinding herself onto his chin and pushing her clit against his nose. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, squirming on his face, wanting more of his tongue. He gave her all she craved and more, his hand moving around her to squeeze and play with her bud as his tongue touched her on all sides, as deep as he could go. Grace's hand went to her nipples, pinches and tugging them, groaning louder as every second passed, her juices coating his tongue. She rode his face, moving her hips forward and back over his tongue, her moans getting softer yet more frequent. Her thighs squeezed his head, the fabric of her garter pushing into his cheeks. Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she gasped, arching her back, and flowing onto his tongue and his face as she climaxed, her body rocking on his mouth.

She climbed off of his mouth, trailing her juices down his chest as she kissed him deeply and, much to his amusement, purred into his mouth. Her pussy found the head of his cock and she took him barely into her, working her hips back and forth to tease him. Tyler moaned softly. Her tunnel was tight, almost virginally tight. He recalled the first time he had had sex with a virgin. He had felt like a brutish beast; like some kind of monster. She had cried during their lovemaking, telling him not to stop but making Tyler feel bad the entire time. He felt so bad afterward that he had lain next to her, massaging her abused abdomen. She had never spoken to him again.

He forced his mind back to the now as Grace braced her hands against his chest and slowly pushed back against his cock. Tyler grabbed her wrists and held them until she reached the bottom. She took a deep breath and let it out, starting to rock back and forth on his large tool, barely moving on it. She growled deep in her throat and pushed away from his chest, sitting straight up on him. Tyler moved his hands to her hips, holding rather than guiding her as she moved her hips in small circles, cradling his length inside her and squeezing him with her muscles.

She growled again and leaned against his chest, bracing her hands against his broad shoulders. Her pace accelerated and she closed her eyes as she pulled almost off of his length before plunging back down to his pelvis. Tyler started pumping his hips against the bed, matching every stroke of hers with one of his own.

Time seemed to pass both slowly and faster than Tyler thought, his mind snapping back as they orgasmed together, Grace crying out and Tyler grunting as he flooded her pussy. She collapsed onto his chest, panting loudly.

"You're an animal," he remarked between his own short breaths.

"Hmm," she asked, looking up at him with a strange look in her eyes.

"Just being so dominant, I mean." He smiled down at her "Most women expect me to be domineering and overpowering because of my size. It's nice to meet a woman who takes what she wants."

Grace propped her head up on her arm, which lay across his chest. "I'm in charge so much," she explained, "That I'm like that in my personal life. As the saying goes: if you're not the lead wolf, the view never changes."

"Dog. It's 'unless you're the lead dog.'"

She shrugged. "I learned it differently, but it's the same thing. Would you like to take a shower?"

Tyler said he would and they adjourned to the bathroom. They climbed into the shower, Tyler's size making it a little more difficult to move around than usual. He contented himself with leaning against the wall and watching her as she cleaned herself up, taking his turn when she was finished. When Tyler came out of the bathroom, he found his clothes neatly folded on the bed with a note.

'Sorry. Emergency came up. I'll call you.'

He shrugged and hoped everything would be okay. He pulled on his clothes and grabbed his coat on the way out, hearing the door lock behind him. He approached his car and jumped as he spotted a large dog crossing the road a ways up. He shook his head and drove home. He collapsed into bed as soon as he got home, barely remembering to check the alarm before he was asleep.

*

Chapter Three

That night, his dreams were strange. He dreamt of Grace but she was different. Her eyes glowed as she took him, her body changing but he couldn't focus on anything but her eyes. He was aware of other people...no, things in the room. They wanted to hurt him. To kill him. Only Grace's will kept them from jumping him and ripping him limb from limb. Still, her eyes drilled into him, commanding his attention. She wanted something from him but he wasn't able to understand what. He could sense her disappointment and felt her recede from him, giving the others free rein. He woke when the first of them landed on his chest.

He sat bolt upright in bed, the alarm blaring today's weather. He looked around the room, trying to make sense of the dream. He gave up and went into the kitchen, grabbing a soda out of the refrigerator. He had a coffeemaker but almost never used it since he hated coffee. He only used it when he had company, which was almost never. A couple of slices of whole-wheat toast with peanut butter later, he hit the floor for his morning regimen or push-ups and crunches. After those, he hit the shower, dropping his boxers as he went. The cold water hit him in the face, making him shiver and bringing him closer to fully awake. He held his head under the water, slowly warming it. Suddenly, he had the feeling he wasn't alone. There was someone else in the apartment.

Tyler stepped out of the shower, leaving it running. Reaching between the toilet and the sink, he picked up the pipe wrench he used to tighten the leaking pipe under the sink. He silently cursed himself for not having his boxers with him, but he had been still partly asleep and there was nothing he could do about it now. He opened the door as quietly as possible, stepping into the hallway, naked and dripping water. He poked his head into the bedroom. Nothing. Inching his way down the hallway, keeping close to the wall, he used the wall mirror to check the living room. Nothing there either.

He gripped the pipe wrench tightly and sprang into the small kitchen. Nothing at all. He shook his head, thinking maybe his intuition had just been off. He dropped the wrench into the dining room chair and went back to finish his shower, feeling like a fool. The nearly invisible mist floated out through the slight opening of his kitchen window and into the slowly lighting air of the morning.

Tyler dressed quickly, grabbed his coat, checking to make sure Violet's cellphone was there, and headed to the car. He ignored the prickling at the back of his neck, the one that said someone was watching him, and dropped into the driver's seat and starting the car, pulling out and driving to the Smythe mansion. Violet ambushed him at the door, talking a mile a minute. Her hair was under a towel and she was wearing a robe, tightly belted. Tyler mostly ignored her and handed over her cellphone, wincing as she squealed and ran up the stairs. Isabella informed him that Mr. Smythe wanted to see him in the office that sat at the back of the house. Tyler thanked her and walked that way, still partly in a daze. Mr. Smythe had his head down over a piece of paper, looking up when Tyler entered.

"Tyler, sit down. We need to talk." Tyler sat immediately, his mind focusing. "This was delivered this morning. I wanted to get your opinion on it before I did anything." He handed over the piece of paper. In the handwriting of a first grader, it read:

'Give us five billion dollars or we shall take your daughter. You will never seen her alive again unless you comply. Be ready for our call.'

"Well," Tyler began, even though he was no detective. "The paper has no water mark or anything distinctive. The handwriting might be traceable but this looks like a five-year old did it. I'm sorry, sir, but I don't have any ideas."

"Neither did I. I'm seriously tempted to say it's a joke and ignore it," Smythe said, dropping the note onto his desk and running his hand through his hair.

"But."

"But I can't do that. She's my baby, Tyler. I can't let anything happen to her. You are to be on top guard at all times, get me?"

"Yes, sir," he replied. "As always."

"Good. Glad to hear it, Tyler. You're dismissed." Tyler nodded and left the office, Smythe already working on how to get five billion dollars available if necessary. Isabella met him in the foyer with a can of his favorite soda.

"Ah, mi bonita señorita. You are too good to me," he said as he opened the can and drank it straight down. She cuffed him on the shoulder and laughed, asking when they were going to pick out wedding rings. Tyler choked on the last swallow of his soda, his eyes watering, laughing as Isabella took the can and walked back into the kitchen.

Tyler walked outside and waited for Violet by the car, leaning against it with his arms folded across his chest. She appeared a few minutes later, dressed in a tight black lace-up bodice, black stockings and black thigh-high boots with five-inch heels, putting her at eye level with him. Her normally brown hair had been lightened and now had black highlights.

"Well," he said, looking her over. "A Goth princess now. Where to, your Highness?" He opened the door for her and helped her inside.

"Back to the lingerie store, Tyler. I need some more things. I think Dante is going to ask me out this weekend and I want to be ready."

He closed the door and sighed. 'Dante' was Dante Whitaker, son of Joseph Whitaker, the head of Whitaker Finance, one of the largest private banking firms in the world. In other words, just another rich little punk getting by on daddy's dime. At least Violet had used her talents to make money for her father, as opposed to Dante, who's only claim to fame so far was appearing on the internet in one of those 'stolen home movies.' He was caught getting it on with one of the snotty rich girls. Tyler, out of curiosity, had downloaded it. He wasn't impressed. There had been a reason it was only six minutes long, though Dante had claimed alcohol was involved. His 'date' had said otherwise.

A date this weekend may mean more work for Tyler as well. Protecting the 'elite' was a full-time job. He would have to talk to Mr. Smythe about that. He slid into the driver's seat and took off, turning on music before Violet could start talking, and pulling onto the freeway. As much as he hated going to the store, at least he would get to see Grace again.

Traffic was light, so they arrived at the lingerie store faster than usual. Tyler took up his post outside the door and watched Violet disappear inside. He peeked in and saw that Grace was helping a customer, a thirty something woman with blonde hair, look over the lingerie sets. When she saw Violet, Grace perked up and looked at the door, flashing Tyler a smile. He smiled back and sat on the bench outside, making sure he could hear inside the store if needed.

A moment later, the blonde headed woman walked out, a bag in each hand. She smiled politely at Tyler, who smiled back and then turned his head as the door opened, Grace stepping outside and walking over to him.

"Hey there, big fella," she said, smiling, tucking a stocking-clad leg underneath her and running a hand through her loose hair. "Sorry about last night."

"No problem," he answered, turning in his seat to look at her. "What happened? Is everything okay?"

"Family stuff. Things got pretty hairy for a while, but everything is good now."

"Good." That was all he could think to say, even though there was plenty he wanted to say to her.

"So, Ty," she began, touching a finger to his leg. "I have thirteen more minutes left on my break and there's this little alley behind the store if you're, you know, interested."

He was, there was no doubt about it, thinking that a quickie with her would be amazing. Something didn't seem quite right, though. "I'm sorry, Grace, but I can't. I'm on the job. Technically, I'm not even supposed to be talking to you. Mr. Smythe wants me to be on full alert. You could be a distraction," he said with a chuckle.

As if on cue, Violet screamed from inside. Tyler bolted to his feet and reached for the door in a single step. He jerked the door open and saw three figures carrying Violet out through the back door. He took two steps in and a security guard, a large black woman, moving in front of him, a nightstick in her hand. She swung the stick and Tyler ducked, grabbing her wrist with his left hand and pulling the stick away from her with his right. He whipped it back in her surprised face, connecting solidly with her nose and already moving forward as she dropped, screaming, with blood pouring out of her ruined nose.

Tyler heard the back door shut and was in mid-stride when something large and heavy hit the back of his knees, sending him tumbling to the floor. There was a last glimpse of Grace and then a large hairy form was crouched on the floor, growling at him angrily. Tyler, more pissed off than anything, started to sit up when the beast sprang, a closed fist connecting with his temple. He felt consciousness slipping away and as it left completely, he felt sharp stabbing pains in his shoulder, but he lacked the strength to fight back. The stabbing went away and he passed out.

*

Chapter Four

Tyler woke up to the sterile smell of a hospital. He opened his eyes and it felt like someone was stabbing him in the eyeballs, so he clamped them shut again. His head throbbed, especially his temple. Memories came swimming back slowly. The last thing he remembered was Grace. Then she had turned into...something. An answer tried formed in his head but it kept moving away.

He tried to sit up but felt something restraining him. He opened his eyes again, blinking in the bright light. His chest, arms, legs and stomach were strapped to the bed. By his right hand, he saw the control for the room and the nurse call button. He dimmed the lights and then called for the nurse. She arrived a moment later. She was in her mid-forties with dark hair that was going gray in the front and wore plain green scrubs.