The Beginning

This story is dedicated to Mo, my inspiration and driving force in beginning to write again. It's been quite some time since my last submission, so please, leave feedback, good or bad.

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It amazes me that I enjoyed my own death as much as I did. I expected to die of old age, asleep in my bed. However, much to my delight and surprise, I died much younger. At only 26 years of age, my life was given freely in an unbelievable moment of passion.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

I was working as a waitress at the local hot spot, a bar named Giovanni's. The customers were upscale, usually childless, and driving late-model BMW's. The tips were great, and since I had some leeway with the uniform, the occasional grope of my posterior was expected, but not unwelcome. Besides, allowing that random fondle usually resulted in a much larger tip.

Now, I consider myself fairly attractive, and as such, when working, did my best to highlight my considerable.....um.....assets. At five foot six and a svelte one fifteen, I have curves in all the right places. High, firm breasts above a narrow waist, gently rounded hips and a tight ass that Jennifer Lopez would kill for. I kept my dark hair cut flatteringly short in a pixie cut, and my huge green eyes, full lips and pert nose added to the mischief of my face.

Our uniform at Giovanni's was supposed to be all black. Anything, so long as it was black. You can imagine the liberties I took! I wore a short, tight skirt, a low-cut fitted cashmere sweater, thigh-high sheer stockings and sexy heels. Anytime I bent over, the tops of my thigh-highs would flash, baring that brief bit of skin between them and my ass. My tips were largest on the nights I dressed like this.

Most of my shift was uneventful in that the bulk of my customers were the happy hour sort; stopping in to slam back a couple beers before heading home or back to the office. My regulars earned genuine smiles and extra attention, but one customer in particular drew my interest, though at the time my attraction to him was unusual.

He was sitting alone in a shadowed corner booth near the kitchen. Tall, from the looks of his long legs encased in supple black leather, strikingly gorgeous with longish dark hair and deep blue eyes, and well built as evidenced by nicely toned arms in a tight black t-shirt. His lips were quirked in a deliciously dangerous smile and I couldn't help the rush of liquid heat to my center as I sauntered over to take his order.

What will it be?" I murmured quietly. His smile widened and for a moment I could have sworn he was going to hit on me.

"Rum and coke." Short, sweet and to the point. He smiled again as I nodded and turned away, feeling a little disappointed. Normally, I appreciate the rare, true gentleman who orders, drinks, tips generously and leaves, but I wanted this one to touch me. In fact, I craved it. I flushed, feeling flustered as I headed back to the bar to fill his order. What the hell was wrong with me? I didn't know this man, wasn't sure I wanted to, but I yearned to feel his hands on me.

As I carried his drink to his table, I tried unsuccessfully to keep my eyes off his. But they seemed to draw me with an unexpected heat and he chuckled melodiously as he sensed my inner turmoil. I set his order down with more force that necessary in my confusion and when I turned to walk away, I felt cool, strong fingers wrap around my wrist. Delicious sensations rose from the pressure he gently exerted.

"Eliza," he mused. "A lovely name." Startled, I jerked my hand away from his and Steve, our bartender, made a questioning gesture, silently asking if I needed help. I mouthed "no" and turned back to the stranger.

"How do you know my name?" I demanded, fear making my voice harsh.

"Your skin sings it to me." he stated seriously, as though I would know exactly what he meant. Letting out a short bark of rather hysterical laughter, I winked at him uncomfortably and moved away. Bewildered, I turned to greet my next table and when I glanced back, he was gone.

Blinking in astonishment at his rapid exit, I cleared his glass, noting the one hundred dollar bill and the heavy linen business card with a gold-embossed address. Fingering the card lightly, I felt another wave of heat as the scent of Obsession engulfed me.

"How odd," I muttered and proceeded to attempt to forget him as I finished my shift.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Night, Steve!" I called as I made my way out the side door after closing. Feet and back aching in protest of my long shift, I made my way to my Vibe, almost groaning in relief as I slipped inside and kicked my heels off. It only took me a moment to realize something wasn't right.

My entire car smelled of Obsession, heading and intoxicating. I spun around, expecting to see the man from the bar, but instead found only another business card, and one lone ghost orchid. Heart pounding, I held the card for a moment, staring at the address in wonder. Then with a derisive snort, I tore it in two, tossed the pieces out the window, and headed home, trying desperately to dismiss him from my thoughts. Little did I know how very difficult that would prove to be.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Over the course of the next week, I dreamt of him, smelled his cologne and thought I saw glimpses of him everywhere. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't breathe without thinking about him. I saw his face in the mirror, imagined I heard his voice whenever someone phoned. I felt like I was slowly going insane for wanting him. Every time I got in my car, I was greeted with a ghost orchid and another card with an address I was rapidly becoming quite familiar with. It never occurred to me to wonder how he was getting into my vehicle, so deep was my infatuation with him.

Still, I did my best to ignore all this until one night, several days later, Steve called me to the bar in exasperation. It was a slow night, but I was already exhausted as I slumped onto a stool in front of him.

"Go home, El." he said bluntly. "You're no good to me tonight. You're obviously tired, you've botched six order and customers are starting to complain. Get some sleep, see someone if you have to, and we'll talk tomorrow night."

I started to protest until I saw the genuine concern etched onto Steve's face and realized he was right. I nodded glumly, punched out, and headed to my car and the now welcome and familiar scent of Obsession and orchids. Tonight, however, the card read something different. Perhaps he knew somehow that I had the address memorized, perhaps he was just cocky, but it read:

"Curious, aren't you, Eliza?"

I could almost hear his laughter, deep and satisfied as I sighed. "Curiosity killed the cat," I reminded myself forcefully as I started the car. But somehow, I didn't care.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

An hour and three "helpful" gas station attendants later I was parked in front of a very large house in a very pricey neighborhood. No lights showed from inside, but the moment my feet touched the front porch, the foyer lit up brilliantly, almost blindingly, and then the door swung open and he stood there, more handsome than before.

A look of joy lit his countenance, and I couldn't help but smile back even though my heart pounded like a wild thing in my chest. He beckoned me inside and it was if my feet moved of their own volition as I stepped over the threshold.

We stood there, frozen, staring at one another hungrily, and I flushed as he reached to cup my face in his hands. And then I was kissing him, my hand pressing urgently against his back, his tongue tangling wildly with mine and my mind trying valiantly of comprehend my own actions. I was struck with the absurdity of the situation. I was standing in a strange man's home, not even knowing his name as I tried desperately to inhale him.

I pulled back, gasping, and he grinned at the emotions that must have shown plainly on my face. He inclined his head toward the stairs behind him, and swallowing audibly, I followed him, my hand never leaving his. He led me to a monstrous bedroom, the bed a lake of black satin, torches and ancient looking furniture everywhere. It was like stepping into the 17th century as I turned slowly, taking in the sumptuous white tiger rug on the floor in front of a marble fireplace.

He cleared his throat softly and when I turned to him, he was suddenly gloriously naked, firelight throwing his toned body and straining manhood into stark relief. I closed my eyes briefly, nostrils flaring, as I breathed the scent of him, as a lioness with her mate. He smelled hot and virile and male, and desire crashed over me a wave. His breath was warm on my lips and he licked the corners of my mouth delicately before teasingly brushing my lips with his. His hands rose to encompass my breasts, massaging gently through my sweater. His kiss deepened slightly and I tasted the vestiges of dark rum on his tongue. He stroked slowly in and out of my mouth, mimicking the rolling thrust of his hips against mine. I moaned into his mouth as I tentatively reached out to touch him.

Deep tingles of awareness seemed to spread inward from my fingertips as I touched his back, pulling him closer. Growling impatiently, he jerked me harder against him, wrenching a startled cry from me as his mouth turned fierce. Dimly, I became aware of powerful hands tearing at my clothes as he ripped them from me. Panting, I struggled to help him, frantically trying to be closer, feel more.

He stroked my bare skin, gentle now as I stood dazed and swaying before him. Goosebumps rose on my arms as his hands drifted lower, one to cup my ass, the other to press possessively into my sex, gathering the moisture there and lifting his hand to suckle his fingers, tasting me.

He reached for my cleft again, plunging his questing fingers into me so violently I thought he would surely injure me, but instead, played me to expertly I clenched almost instantly around him, drenching his hand in my essence.

He chuckled darkly against my ear as he nibbled there, causing new shudders of pleasure. In an instant I slipped to my knees and devoured him hungrily, turning his laughter to a moan. I tasted him, that sweet, tangy cream just beginning to seep from him, lapping his shaft gleefully, wanting to swallow every hard, throbbing inch of him until he spurted hotly into my waiting mouth. However, my mysterious lover had other plans for me.

Urging me upward to stand before him, he captured my wrists. Guiding me backward to the bed, he lowered me to it and produced a shining pair of stainless steel handcuffs. My breath catching in my throat, I shook my head mutely, suddenly terrified. But despite my silent denial, he fastened mt hands in the cuffs, and pushing them above my head, proceeded to shackle me to the headboard.

Struggling in earnest now, I felt the beginnings of new terror pushing through my arousal. A steady hand was laid over my frantically beating heart and without a word, he calmed me. I have no idea what he did, but somehow, he managed to convey he meant no harm. I met his eyes, silently pleading for release, in more ways than one. He smiled that infuriating smile and touched me, again raising goosebumps. His mouth soon followed his adventurous fingers and I closed my eyes as his tongue traced a warm, wet path from my neck, to nipple, to stomach and lower until he nuzzled against my sex lovingly. Slowly, so slowly, he tasted me, teasing me with tongue, teeth and lips until I was weeping from the sheer wonder of it. He brought me, shuddering, to climax, my core dripping ambrosia onto his waiting tongue as I twisted against my bonds. He kissed me, then, breathing his approval lightly onto my lips, sharing my own sweetness with me.

"Please," I begged. His eyes flashed black and in that moment, I believe I knew who and what he was, and I knew that I didn't care, and that I wanted him all the more for it. Seeing my dawning realization, he freed me, and I embraced him, writhing against his hardness. He hissed out a breath as his shaft pressed at my entrance, gliding easily inside me, stretching me. We rose and fell against each other, laughing as we discovered the pleasure we brought to each other until his movements became erratic and I knew he was close. I head him cry out and I turned my head away, baring my neck, pleading for what we both now wanted.

And then I felt his teeth grip my skin in hesitation before sensing my assent, and they pierced my neck. My eyes flared open in wonder and ecstasy as he began to suckle. I clutched him tighter as he drew on me, his hips grinding into me as we coupled, my cries growing fainter as he took what I so freely gave. He came as I felt my life flutter from me and my breathing slowed, my heartbeat a mere flicker in my breast.

His hands gentled my shudders and then my lips were suddenly on his wrist, it dripping red tears into my mouth as I pulled my new life into me, changing for him. When the shaking stopped and my eyes opened again to gaze upon him, I smiled wickedly, running my tongue along my newly sharp canines.

"Hello, Paine, my love." I breathed, my voice richly dark and mellow. "Your skin sings to me..."