Fallen Ch. 17

As soon as we get through the door of his apartment he throws himself into my arms again, kissing me desperately.

"Star, wait, wait. I want... I want to tell you something, something I need you to know."

He raises his head and looks at me, the hunger flaring in his eyes, burning red. "What?"

"I... I can't change who I am, what I am. I have to feed and sex is as much as part of it as the blood itself. I have to drink from many boys because if I take only one I would kill him in a few weeks. I know; I've tried it. I can't be faithful to you. I can't be just with you. But I can promise, I can swear, I can make a contract written in my blood... that I will always, always come back to you at the end of the day and I will spend every moment I can with you. I need to know if that's enough for you, if you can live with that because I can't let myself go all the way, invest myself in you completely and then lose you."

"I know what you are. I know what you do. Do it to me."

"What?"

"Do it to me: what you did before. Do it to me now."

I stare at him for a moment, at the fire burning in his eyes and then I leap at him, knocking him over onto the bed and landing on top of him. "Do you really want to see what I can do?"

"Oh yes. I've wanted it since the moment I woke up here."

"Bastard. Why have you been...?"

"I couldn't let you have me too easily. I was too pissed with you."

I pause for a moment and lift my head, looking down into his wonderful eyes. "When did you know?"

"When did I know I was in love with you?" I nod and he laughs. "Possibly from the first moment I looked into your eyes, certainly from the moment your hand brushed mine when you pushed the JD across the table to me."

"Then you must have been very 'pissed with me'."

"Oh yeah, damn pissed... especially when you spoiled my fun with Serif."

"Have the bruises faded?"

"Yep. Time for some more I think."

"You're amazing. I have never met anyone like you before. You are beautiful. You look like-- not like an angel. Serif looks like an angel; Bridge looks like an angel, but you...you look like the truth behind all angels, the being on which they are based and are all poor shadows of. Your eyes... I have never seen anything like them, they-- call to me. I see them in my sleep, whenever I close my eyes. I smell you, I taste you I... feel you. You drive me crazy."

"You say the nicest things." He is joking, but then the laughter flees his eyes and leaves an intensity that makes me breathless. "I love you," he whispers and I can't hold back another moment.

I have to fight hard to retain enough control not to crush him. He cannot compete with me in strength, not yet. He fights me and I have to be careful in the height of passion that I do not fight back too hard. We literally tear off our clothes and when we are naked and I have kissed him until my lips feel raw I begin to send him on a crazy, wild ride.

Slowly, I trail my fingers over his pulse points, from his wrist to his throat and then down to his inner hip joint, behind his knee and his ankle. At every one I pause to let ecstasy leak into his veins. By the time I am done, he is wild. He does not slide into stupor as most people do. He is writhing, with his head thrown back, his wonderful hair flung around all over the place, his lips red from kissing and where he has been biting them.

Finally, I begin to massage his balls and his body jerks. It is hot and trembling and I can feel the strength and vitality humming within. When I take him into my mouth he grabs my hair and pushes my head down until I start flicking the head of his cock, sending pulses through his shaft and deep into his abdomen. Groaning deeply, he lets his hands fall away.

After a time, when I feel that his climax is beginning to rise in him, I let him fall from my mouth and toy with him with my fingers as I kiss my way up his body and press my lips against his. He is moaning now, lost in ecstasy and I taste it on his lips. He is totally mine. I can do whatever I want to him and he is powerless to resist, but I find that I want him to. I don't want to play his body while he doesn't have the will or the consciousness to truly participate.

I let go of him and pull him into an embrace, our bodies pressed against each other along their whole length. He is panting hard and completely unfocussed but still he manages to wind his legs around me and push me onto my back, so I am in a cave of white hair with twin orbs of shining aqua glowing above me.

He is deliberately rubbing his hips against mine and I am amazed at how quickly he has recovered his focus. I moan and let my head fall back. Perhaps it is time to relinquish some of the control. I gasp when he bites me, hard on the shoulder and then again on my collar bone. He lifts his head and his pupils are filled with fire.

"You like that, don't you? You don't think you do, but you do. Payback time."

He lowers his head again and licks from the base of my throat down to my nipple then bites me again.

"Aagh."

I feel Star grin against my hot skin and I realise I am shaking and breathing hard. I reach for him but he bats away my hands and moves lower. He kisses everywhere, over my ribs, my stomach, my thighs, everywhere but where I want him to. He works his way back up to my lips again and he still hasn't touched me.

"Oh Hel please..." I moan.

"Please what? Please bite me?" He obliges right where my shoulder joins my neck. I jump but not with pain, with hot anticipation. I reach for him again with the half formed thought that I need to get back control. I need to... to...

At last he slides his hot body over mine, touching length to length, our erections dancing with each other. At last a touch... a touch. I raise my legs and wrap them around his waist thrusting against him and he lets me for a while, teasing me with his lips, teeth and hands and then... then when I am in a fever, more of a frenzy than I have been for thousands of years, than I believed that I ever would again, the little bitch moves so fast I don't know what's coming and before I know it he's buried to the hilt in me with a self satisfied smirk on his face.

"No. No I..."

"No, I bet you don't, but tonight you're going to, so shut up and enjoy it."

I try to tell him that I just don't do this. No one has entered me; no one. Since Astaria I have only taken, I have never given and yes... yes it hurts but it isn't that, it isn't physical at all it's... it's... I have to tell him... something. But by this time he's stroking, long and slow and, at the same time massaging my cock and I've lost the ability to think about anything but this amazing boy who is riding me like no one ever has before. His fingers, his smell, his touch, his... his...

After a few minutes of acclimatisation he starts to increase speed and penetration until he is riding me hard, slamming into me and throwing back his head with his wild hair cascading over his shoulders. My fingers claw at his hands which are the only parts of him I can reach and then I feel the tide rising and instinct takes over.

Sitting up is hard but I am strong and Star is surprised. Nevertheless, even when I pull him to me, even when I sink my fangs into his neck he still rides me hard, even when my venom seeps into him and he slows, he doesn't stop. When he feels he is losing focus he bites me; bites me hard, drawing blood. I am too far gone in the feeding frenzy to care and we writhe together, our bodies rising in the same blazing heat, until they convulse together and, locking our legs around each other I taste his release while I experience mine; not something I have done before but definitively something I want to do again.

I am wild. His blood is fire in my veins. Even as my body is wracked with the ecstasy of orgasm my tongue and throat are assaulted with something that is like an orgasm in my mouth. I can't get enough of him. He is so... so... He is chewing so hard on my shoulder it's starting to really hurt.

The pain eventually breaks through my mania and I withdraw, falling back onto the bed, exhausted while Star kneels over me with a strange expression on his face. It is that that brings me down from my high... with a crash.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Star, are you alright?" I stare up in anxious horror at his carefully neutral expression.

Suddenly my heart is thudding in my chest. What have I done? Have I driven him away again? I'm a fool, a bloody fool. I haven't lost control like this; I haven't lost control at all... not for centuries. Why does it have to be with him? Because it is him.

"You almost did it again, didn't you? You almost drained me; went too far?"

His voice is carefully devoid of emotion. It is driving me crazy. How is he feeling? What does he want me to say? What can I say? With a sinking heart I decide that there can only be truth between us.

"I lost control. I have not done that in centuries. You drive me wild. The taste of you; the smell of you and – and no one has ever... ever penetrated me before. I would not allow it, wouldn't have surrendered control. Men have died for what you just did but you – you could do anything to me. I'm yours. I'm sorry; I'm truly sorry. I don't know what else to say."

For a moment he gazes down at me, his face inscrutable and then suddenly he laughs. "Seriously? You're seriously a virgin? Well... you're not now but you were?" Stunned, I stare at him. "No wonder you were so tight," he says cheekily, as he collapses on top of me and rolls to snuggle into my side.

"Are you alright?" The smile fades and he knows I am not just asking about his health.

"Yes, I'm alright."

"Do you need blood?"

He smiles and shakes his head. "But the next time you do that I will punch you and it won't be in the face."

Joy surges all through me and I hug him tight until he grunts and pushes against my chest. "Hey, let me breathe. God! First you drain me and then you crush me, what's next?"

I pull away hastily but he is laughing, teasing. For a time we just lie, staring at each other and I am fascinated by the flame that flickers behind his eyes. I caress his face and stroke his beautiful hair until he is half asleep.

"Your hair is amazing, so beautiful."

"Mmm," he purrs.

"In fact you are all perfect." I touch his chest and lips and he closes his eyes with a contented sigh.

"You are still beautiful too, Luma," he mumbles.

"What?" I snatch back my hand and he opens his eyes, confused by the tone of my voice. "What did you call me?" I snap

"Luma," he says, surprised.

"Why did you call me that?" There is something in the way he says it that sends shivers through me.

"Because it's your name isn't it? It's what everyone in here has been calling you. Or would you prefer me to call you Lumin'el?"

"But how... how did you know?"

"I've always known. I've always known you. Well I didn't know it was you, not at first, but I've always known about you."

"I don't understand... how?"

"She told me. If I'd known from the start who you were I wouldn't have been so angry. It wasn't until today, when I saw the way you looked at Bridge... I suppose she has been trying to get through to me from the start but at first I was too drugged and sick and then too angry. I couldn't or wouldn't listen."

"I still don't understand. Who's 'she'?" As if I don't know.

Star frowns. "It's a long story."

"We have time."

As he opens his mouth his stomach rumbles and I laugh. "Maybe we should adjourn for lunch."

"I'll go and get something from the kitchen."

"We have our own kitchen."

"But there's nothing good in there. I checked it out and it's all healthy stuff," he says it as if he's disgusted, getting up and stretching lazily, making my cock twitch. Hel he is so beautiful.

"You keep my side of the bed warm for me." He slips on a robe and pads across the floor, stalking like a cat, a panther I think. The change in him is remarkable. Suddenly he is completely at home, utterly comfortable with me; with his place in my heart and my home... our home. What the fuck just happened?

I lie back and pull the covers over me, suddenly cold without him in my arms. A place inside me which has been frozen for years has thawed, filling the void and I am utterly content.

When Star comes back I am dozing and he laughs at me. "Get up you lazy fat slob. You're as bad as Bridge."

"Bridge?"

"I called in on him on my way back. He's still fast asleep. He's looking better though, not so tired. I think Mario's herbs are doing him some good."

I would like to be happy about that, and I am, but there is something that tugs at my stomach every time I think of Bridge and it will take more than a few hours sleep to shake it.

Star sets down a tray of snacks on the table and produces a bottle of Rioja from a nearby cupboard. I raise an eyebrow.

"I felt it was possible that at some point I might find myself under siege so I made provisions." That amuses me no end-- Star trying to barricade himself in a room that in so many senses of the word doesn't exist at all. "What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing. I'll tell you later." He pours two generous glasses and hands me one. Rioja is not my favourite wine, too light, but it is pleasant enough. I watch him raise the glass to his lips and sip, enjoying the wine. He flutters his eyelashes at me over the rim.

"What?" he asks innocently.

"Nothing, just thinking lustful thoughts."

"Aren't you always?"

"Do you breathe?"

He laughs and sets down his glass, delicately picking through the food. He is casually lounging in the chair, his robe falling open at the front. It is hard to concentrate on anything else. I force my mind away.

"So, you were saying?"

"I was?"

"You were about to."

He frowns and fiddles with the food in his hand. "I don't know how hard it is for you to believe... I suppose not as hard as for a human." He takes a deep breath. "Ever since I can remember there's been a part of me that wasn't me." He glances up to gauge my response. I smile and nod. "I can't describe it. It's as if there's another person living inside me." His eyes grow distant as he looks deep inside himself and his words become more fluent, more animated.

"When I was very young she would sing lullabies to me whenever I was lonely or scared. They were about angels and stars and I used to dream that she was singing about me. I thought she was singing about stars because that was my name but as I got older I started to wonder if it was the other way around; if I was named Star after the things she was singing about. I could almost imagine my mother looking into my eyes and singing the song to me, telling me that my name came from the stars, the same stars she was singing at. I never got the chance to talk to her about it because she died just after I was born."

"Did she ever tell you who she was, the woman who sang to you?"

"No. I never really thought of someone separate to me because she was inside me if that makes sense."

"It makes sense."

He nods and continues. "As I got older she started to tell me things, things about another world where things were better. She talked about a beautiful white city on a mountain overlooking a lush valley, and about the beings who inhabited it, who weren't human. She told me about one man in particular, someone she loved very much. They were separated in a war. He died I think, at least she said she lost him. She was very sad about it."

"He didn't die," I say softly. "He never died, he just... changed. He was punished horribly and part of that punishment was that it could never end. The separation; the eternal life of pain and separation."

"It was you, wasn't it? That man? It was you."

"Yes. It was me."

His voice grows distant, dreamy as he looks deep inside himself. "The way she spoke about you made it obvious that she loved you beyond reason. Over time, listening to her words, her stories, the way she spoke, the way she felt, I fell in love with you too. Of course I'm sure she exaggerated what actually happened..."

"I doubt it. She was never one for saying anything that wasn't true. She simply doesn't lie."

"Exaggerating isn't lies."

"In her eyes a lot of things are lies." I smile to myself. "And with hindsight, devoid of the emotions that drove us, I suppose it was a very exciting time, an epic time. Go on."

"I've known what I am forever. I mean as soon as I started noticing, I was... sexually drawn to others, it was always boys; girls did nothing for me, never. I hid it for as long as I could. If it hadn't been for her I think I would have killed myself years ago.

"Did you have to hide it?"

"God yes. My father would have killed me; literally. God knows he came close enough as it was." Star sighs and puts down the food untouched.

"Did he hurt you?" I ask softly. He hangs his head.

"In every way imaginable. He hated me because he said I killed my mother."

"That's ridiculous."

"Of course it is, but it wasn't to him. He used to call me mother-killer in the way that others say motherfucker and sometimes he'd put his hands around my neck and squeeze until I blacked out; screaming at me that I was a murderous bastard and he was going to teach me what it was like to die. I think sometimes he really meant to kill me but something always held him back."

"Star I... How did you cope? How...?"

"She did it – she saved me. She sang to me and comforted me and told me that one day I'd get away; one day I'd be safe; one day I would find love; one day I'd find you and nothing would ever hurt me again."

"And you did."

"In the end." He takes another long drink from the wine. It stains his lips red and I so want to take him in my arms and kiss them, but I know he needs to get his story out and I need to hear it. "Before that there were years of pain, humiliation, deceit. If it hadn't been for her I'd have given up and died a long time ago. But..." He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut. "Then I lost her."

"What do you mean... lost her?"

"She stopped talking to me. It was just over two years ago. One night I had a dream. I dreamed of a woman, a beautiful woman with long red hair. She was painting with a canvas on an easel. I never saw what she was painting, although I really wanted to. Somehow, I thought that if I could only see the painting I'd understand everything.

"She took me in her arms and kissed me like a mother and said that it was time for me to set out on my final journey to find my destiny. I thought she meant that I was going to die but when I said it out loud she laughed at me and said that I'd be walking away from death, not towards it. She said that the journey would be long and hard and if she could have journeyed with me she would have but it was something I had to do alone. She promised that she'd be there for me at the end but, until then I had to go on alone.

"When I awoke she was gone – well no, she was still there... she still is now, but something had changed. It's as if the two parts of me had merged. I could still feel her essence inside me, but we weren't separate any more, she couldn't talk to me because she was me." He looks anxious again. "Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense." I have been watching his face as he speaks and he is sad, so sad. I want to comfort him but what can I say?

"That day was the worst of my life that far. Without her I didn't see how I could possibly go on. I was so sad, so lost that I forgot to do something my father had asked me to do and he beat me up so badly I wanted to die and she wasn't there to help me.

"I struggled on for about six months or so with my dad beating me almost every day and then, one day I painted a painting. For years I'd been sketching in a book I kept hidden under my bed. It's where I put my feelings. There were sketches of my father and what I wanted to do to him-- and ones of you, or at least how I saw you in my head, and what I'd have liked to have done to you." He blushes and it makes me smile.