Blackthorne Ch. 01

She punched my arm softly. "Oh, shut up!"

"Who was that guy anyway?" It was my turn to ask the questions.

"Hmm? He was— no one."

"He didn't seem like a no one the way he latched onto you like that."

She blushed. "Well, he was about to be foo-"

"Oh, we're here," I cut her off, "what was he about to be?"

"Oh, foolishly mistaken if he was thinking I was that sort of girl," she gave me a sheepish grin.

I parked the car in a small parking lot near my apartment. I blinked and turned to her with half a sudden realization that this was the first time I've ever brought a girl back home to my place. I didn't know whether to be scared or excited, I didn't know what to feel, all I knew was I wanted Jill. Her hold on me was strong, almost uncanny. I tried to rationalize the situation. She was extremely beautiful and attractive, and I did save the day. But why did it feel so wrong when her tattoo was blindingly red? Her features were almost innocent and sweet when she was treating my cut. It was as if she were two people.

We made it to my apartment with me in a daze leading her up the stairs. I unlocked my door and walked into the living room. I kept shouting at myself in my mind to stop this and escort her out. This felt like taking advantage of her. This happened in my head as Jill strode in after me and closed the door. She grazed my back with her hand as if it was a preamble to what was coming. She looked around my tiny apartment and strode gracefully to my secondhand loveseat. My apartment was a quintessential bachelor's pad. It had a main living room that had my television, bookshelves, and couches that stood upon old creaky hardwood floors. The bedroom was as big as the back of a pickup truck that fit my bed and a small closet along with a smaller bathroom that barely fit a shower, sink and toilet.

"I like your apartment, Paul. It feels very cozy." Jill's eyes gazed into mine as she motioned her hand and gently pat the empty space next to her on the couch inviting me to sit next to her. I hesitated for a second before I found myself sitting next to her. As I turned to look at her, she placed her hand on my chest and gently pushed me back against the arm cushion of the loveseat. Heh, fitting name for a piece of furniture I thought.

"Now, weren't we about to discuss your reward for saving me?" She crawled onto my lap and straddled me. "But first we need you out of this jacket and shirt."

I tried to take off my leather jacket and t-shirt as best I could considering I could only use my upper torso. I grunted as the t-shirt was lifted above my head and as I did I found her lips pressed against mine and my world becoming very fuzzy. The heat from her tongue exploring mine was the only sensation I felt as I closed my eyes to savor the moment. A moment that didn't last. As her hands pressed against my chest I could feel her slight hesitation. She suddenly looked very confused, the same way she did back when the Minotaur guy was on her. Her face began to change into a more devious shape and her eyes became more feline and sharp, but most importantly her canines became a little too long for my own good. This brings us back to now with me scurried back against a bookshelf. My head quickly moved out of the way as Jill tried to kiss me again. Her eyes were watery and unfocused.

"Jill, I'm really opened minded about the kinky stuff, but I think I have to draw the line at growing fangs." I shouted, not really expecting an answer.

Her voice came out strained as if there was another person behind it.

"I'm sorry, Paul," she whimpered, "But I'm losing it. The Hunger, it's excruciating."

Her clawed hands clutched at her floral sundress and tore it off as if it was a second skin. She began to moan in an inhuman voice.

Boggles and goggles. I now had an extremely hot blonde girl with claws and gleaming fangs tearing off her clothes in the middle of my living room floor. I've never had such luck with women. It added another distraction as I quickly scanned the room while still trying to back away from her. She looked as if she was having an internal struggle as her body switched from feline grace to awkward jerks as if resisting an urge. I had to think fast. I saw an unused section of extension cord, it was about 15 feet. The reptilian part of my brain agreed with the plan to satiate her Hunger while my mammalian brain berated for me thinking up such a ridiculous plan.

I quickly grabbed my t-shirt and whatever was left of her sundress and quickly wound them up together into a makeshift rope. I grabbed Jill's hands as she squirmed seductively towards me and tied them behind her back as tightly as I could. The materials weren't braided unicorn hair or dragon sinew but it held, barely. I then tied the homemade rope with the extension cord and quickly threw one end over one of the arms of my dusty faux chandelier attached to the ceiling of my living room. Hell's bells, I hope it holds. Jill made a muffled noise as she realized her hands were tightly restrained behind her and she was being lifted to her feet as I pulled down the cord and pulled it toward my bedroom door handle. She struggled some more against her restrains but it got her nowhere, she was perfectly tied. If anyone had walked into my apartment and saw this ridiculous sight, a beautiful naked girl with her hands tied behind her back, me in nothing but my jeans; they would have either run away screaming or called the cops. It was like a scene from some kinky fantasy. It would have, if said girl didn't snarl at me.

"Bastard! Untie me!" she growled.

"Just what the hell are you?" I asked her as I walked in front of her. Damn, even in a murderous rage she looked extremely sexy.

"Argh! It's- it's a curse," Her voice returned to normal. "It's been with my family for generations. Please untie me?" She pleaded, it almost convinced me. Almost.

"Not until you elaborate, you damned succubus," I crossed my arms.

She gave a shriek. I was glad my apartment had soundproof walls. The neighbors wanted privacy, which turned out real fortunate for me.

"A curse! A blood curse! Ever since I turned seventeen, I've always had this strange want, whenever I'm emotionally distressed. I tried to keep myself in line all these years. Why? Why did you have to save me, Paul? I would have just kicked the damn asshole and ran home to lock myself in."

You know, any other day I would have shrugged this story off and would have said to whoever told me to pitch that story to an agent. Perspectives change when you have a half-vampire trying to bite your jugular in your living room. I was repulsed, I was intrigued, I was horrified, but what struck me as insane was that I was still aroused.

"How the hell are you doing that? That glamour, why is it so hard to resist you sometimes? " I readjusted my jeans.

She laughed amusingly. Coming from her with that voice, it sounded wrong. "Oh don't be like that Paul. You know you like it. Let me help you get over her."

"Is all your beauty and my need for you coming from that curse of yours?" I was deflecting.

She shook her head. "I think maybe it's you trying to move on, Paul. I can help you with that. I promise I won't bite," she raised one of her eyebrows as she said that. "You need me Paul, I can tell from the way you're acting around me and what you're feeling. We can come to a compromise; we can both help each other."

She was right, and it was getting harder and harder for me to resist. I reasoned that since she was tied up with no chance of escape I could believe her to a degree. I hadn't been with a woman in what was it? A year? I quickly unbuttoned my jeans and grabbed her hair and yanked it back as I looked into her eyes.

Jill snarled in surprise which quickly turned into a moan when she figured out my intentions. She stopped struggling somewhat as I leaned in close to kiss her bare neck. I kept my grip on her hair tight as I didn't want her returning any of my kisses with her own.

"Need you," she whispered.

"Jill, this is our last chance to stop. I think if I just--"

"Don't think." She cut me off as her hips brushed hard against my front. "Don't think, just touch me."

Somewhere, I knew this wasn't the brightest of my ideas. I laid the fingers of my right hand on the curve of her waist, wrapping them slowly against her heated skin. Soft smoothness caressed my hand. There was a pleasure in it, a primal, possessive pleasure in touching her. I ran my palm and spread fingers over her flank, her belly, in slow and light circles. She arched at the caress, her eyes closing, and whispered, "Yes," over and over again.

With my other hand I lightened the grip on her hair to savor the feel of it. More softness, rich texture, honey strands flowing between my fingers. While I did, the quality of the tension changed. I could smell her hair, her skin, their scent like candle smoke and cinnamon. I felt a second gathering of tension in her and then she whipped her head around, teeth bared, reaching for my hand. I should have drawn my hand away. Instead, I tightened my fingers in her hair and pulled back, forcing her chin up and keeping her from reaching me.

I expected retaliatory anger from her, but instead her body became pliant again, moving against me with a more willing abandon. A languid smile spread over her lips, and faded away to an openmouthed gasp as I ran my fingertips lightly over her breasts. She gasped, and at the sound all my recent worry, fear, anger, pain—it all faded away, burned to ash by a sudden fire of raw need. To feel her under my hand, to have the scent of her filling my head—I'd dreamt of it on too many cold and lonely nights.

It wasn't the smartest thing to do; it was the only thing to do.

I slid both hands around her body, teasing her breasts, loving the way their tips hardened to rounded points beneath my fingers. She tried to turn on me again, but I jerked her back hard against me, my mouth pressing against the side of her throat, keeping her from turning her head. It only excited her more.

"Don't stop," she whispered panting.

I wasn't sure I could have. I couldn't get enough of the taste of her onto my lips. I spent a slow and delicious moment following the line of her spine with my lips and tongue, tasting her skin, testing its texture with my teeth. Some part of me struggled to remember to be gentle. And another part of me didn't give a damn. Feel. Taste. Indulge.

My teeth left small marks here and there on her skin, and I remember thinking that they looked intriguing beside the curling scarlet designs of her tribal tattoo that swept in a spiral around her neck and back. The dark leather of her panties blocked my mouth, a sudden ugliness beneath my lips, and I straightened with a grunt to get it out of my way.

For the record, tight leather panties don't come off easily. Berserk lust is likely not the best frame of mind for removing them. I didn't let that stop me. She gasped when I started taking them off, started squirming and wriggling, trying to help me. Mostly it drove me insane as she brushed against me, as I watched her move in sinuous, delicious need. Her panting gasps all had a quiet vocalization to them now, a sound that urged me on.

I got the panties down below her knees. I shivered and paused to spend another moment savoring her with my hands.

"Now," she whispered a frenzied edge to her voice.

But I didn't hurry. I don't know how long I stood there, kissing, touching, and driving her cries into higher and more desperate pitches. At that moment there was nothing on earth, in heaven or hell that meant more to me.

She looked over her shoulder at me, eyes blazingly blue and burning with hunger. She tried for my hand again, driven beyond words now. I had to control her head again, fingers knotted into her hair while my free hand got the interfering clothes out of the way. She let out mewling sounds, until I pulled her hips back against me, feeling my way, and in a rush of fire and silk felt my hardness press into her.

Her eyes flew open wide, out of focus, and she cried out, moving against me, meeting my motion with her own. I had a fleeting thought of slowing down. I didn't. Neither of us wanted that. I took her that way, my mouth on her ear, her throat, one hand in her hair, her hands stretched out over her, body straining back to meet mine.

God, she was beautiful.

She screamed and started shuddering, and it was all I could do not to explode. I fought away the inevitable for a little time more. Jill sagged down after a moment, until with my hands, with my mouth, with the thrusts of my body, I kindled the quiet moans once again to cries of hunger. She screamed again, the motions of her body swift, liquid, desperate, and there wasn't any way I could keep her from driving me over the brink with her.

Our cries mingled together as we intertwined. The strain of muscles and bodies and hungers overwhelmed me.

Pleasure like fire consumed us both and burned my thoughts to ash.

Time drifted by and did not touch us.

When I recovered my senses, I found myself on the floor. Jill lay on her stomach beneath me, her still-bound arms laid out above her head. Not much time had passed. Both of us were still short of breath. I shivered, and felt myself still inside her. I didn't remember loosening the bonds up to the ceiling, but I must have done it. I moved my head to kiss her shoulder and her cheek, very softly.

Her eyes blinked slowly open, human again, though her pupils were dilated until they all but hid the dark blue of her irises. She didn't focus them. She smiled and made a soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a cat's purr. I stared at her for a moment, until I realized that the tribal designs on her face had gone dark again, and had begun to fade away. As I watched over the next few moments, they vanished completely.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Uh, you're welcome..."

"Wanted that."

"Me too, more than I realized," I said.

"Dangerous, Paul, you could have been hurt. I might have--" The realization crept back into her features. I felt sorry for her, and it really wasn't entirely her fault.

I leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth, silencing her. "You didn't. It was a close call, but it's okay. It was my fault well. Any other sane guy would have ran."

She shivered, but nodded. "So tired."

I felt like nothing more than dropping off to sleep, but instead I got to my feet. Jill let out a soft sound of half pleasure and half protest. I gathered her up and put her on the couch. I untied the extension cord and untied the rope, releasing her, and it slid away from her skin, coiling itself into neat loops in my hand. I pulled a blanket from my bed room and folded it over her. "Sleep," I said. "Get some rest."

"You should--"

"I will. Promise. But ... I don't think it would be a good idea to go to sleep near you. You might have a nightmare and relapse on me." I half meant the last part.

Jill nodded wearily. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I said.

"I should head out as soon as I can."

"Stay, at least till the morning," I quickly said keeping her still. "Not until I can be sure you're okay."

I didn't think her voice sounded particularly disappointed as she snuggled down a bit more onto my couch. "Oh," she said. "We'll have to wait it out then."

"Yeah," I said. I stroked her hair. "Jill--"

She touched my hand with hers, and closed her eyes. "It's alright. What happened tonight, was something else, unique. My hunger couldn't be separated. It...it was a release. Took some of the pressure off me. I wanted it. Needed it."

"Did I hurt you?"

She made a purring sound without opening her eyes. "Maybe a little. I didn't mind."

I shivered and said, "You're okay?"

She nodded slowly. "As I can be. Get some rest, Paul."

"Yeah," I said. I touched her hair again, and then shuffled into my bedroom. I didn't shut the door. I put my pillows at the foot of my bed, so that I could see the couch when I lay down. I watched her face, graced by pale moonlight, until my eyes closed.

She was so lovely.

I wished that she were with me.