Ghosts Ch. 08

"You're way more badass than Dracula," I offered.

He laughed and pulled me closer to him, spooning.

"You think flattery will get you somewhere with me?"

I shrugged. "I'm experimenting."

He just squeezed me against him again, and I found I wasn't too bothered by it. Spread out in the sun that streamed into the building, in the daze of my high, everything just seemed peaceful and warm for the moment. The painkillers he'd given me were wearing off and I was beginning to feel a persistent throb in my left arm. For all intents and purposes, it had looked completely healed-if badly healed. I wondered what was causing the pain, and if there would always be pain. But I couldn't bring myself to dwell on it.

"You seem weirdly cuddly." I observed. I'd decided to get my mileage out of the freedom-of-expression clause that was apparently part of our contract. Most humans won't give you permission to say absolutely anything to them. It was sort of novel.

"My kind of vampires are cuddly," he informed me. "We're big on comfort, and lounging. Kind of like cats."

"I knew it!" I exclaimed. "I thought you were like a cat."

"Uh huh." He patted me on the head. "A lot of people make that observation, but you go ahead and feel special."

I glared at him, and he just smiled back. His smile was fond, almost kind. I didn't trust it for a second.

"Was that vampire blood or human blood on you earlier?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought we discussed this already."

I shook my head. "I feel like you avoided the question."

He cocked his head and spread his hands, posing the same question he posed before. "Why would it be vampire blood?"

"I don't know, but I don't think a human could have left those defensive wounds on you." I glanced at his arms. There were still barely perceptible marks there.

He gave me a long, searching look, followed by a slow, appreciative smile.

"Clever girl. You're right. It's human and vampire blood. Does that make you feel better?"

No...that was probably the worst answer he could have given me, actually. I shook my head and started to scoot away from him, feeling a little sick about it all. But he petted and soothed me.

"Shush. It's all right. It's over now."

We just lay like that for a while, sun beating down on us, brighter and hotter. Finally I looked at Lex, who gazed back at me, lazy and content.

"I thought sunlight was bad for vampires." I gestured at the display of him sunning like a lizard on a rock, and he shrugged.

"It's not good for us. It's kind of like smoking. Bad for you, but hurts so good and makes you feel cool." He grinned at me.

"Are you being serious?"

He nodded at me, smiling, and I just shook my head, unsure what to make of him. He grasped one of my hands and squeezed.

"I'm about ready to go back in the bedroom, though," he said, his voice mild. He looked at me pointedly. "Are you going to freak out?"

"I don't know," I said honestly, and he gave me a sympathetic look as he pulled me to my feet.

"Let's give it a try."

And then I was being led into the dimly lit room and ushered onto the bed. Almost immediately he started to untie the robe, and chuckled at what he found there. I'd knotted it in about three very tight knots without even realizing it. Lex didn't comment on it though, and didn't seem to have too much trouble with them. He eased the robe off my shoulders and kissed my shoulder gently. Then he lightly pushed me onto my back. He stretched out next to me and draped a hand over my belly, stroking slightly.

"This doesn't have to be so bad, does it?" he crooned.

The haze of the drugs cleared for a moment and I just stared at him incredulously. "You broke my fucking arm."

He smiled almost sheepishly, as if he'd been caught trying to get away with something.

"So I did."

He handled my arm in his hands and examined the former break.

"I fixed it."

"Badly!"

He shrugged. "Maybe if you're good, I'll break it again and fix it the right way."

My mouth went dry. It was a threat as casual as it was ambiguous, and it made me feel utterly helpless. I felt like I might cry again. But he was suddenly gone. I looked around and spotted him rummaging in the big chest that now sat ominously against the far bedroom wall. He found what he was looking for and approached the bed with some colorful silk scarves in his hands.

"I'm going to tie you up," he informed me, I guess in case I wasn't following things.

He was an expert at tying knots, and within seconds he had my arms spread and my wrists secured to the headboard. It seemed to have special slats and holes specifically for this kind of thing. I tried not to look at him, and his hungry eyes on me. I felt terribly exposed. But he wasn't making me look at him. In fact, he tied one of those scarves quickly, in a shiftless blindfold around my head.

I can't see anything, but I can feel him moving around the bed and he grabs an ankle. I instinctively pull back, but it's so futile. His grip is inhumanly strong. I really don't want to be tied spread-eagled. I have the feeling I've been tied up that way before and it wasn't a good experience. When he secures the other foot, I start to cry quietly. I can't help it. I don't want this. I feel the blindfold being untied by swift fingers, and then I'm suddenly gazing into Lex's face as it hovers over mine. But his features are unsympathetic.

"I like to tie girls up." he says, as if it really all is just as simple as that. He reaches for the lube that still sits on the nightstand, then pours a generous amount of it into his palm. Like, a ton of it. Way more than he used on me before. My eyes widen and I strain against the scarves as I realize what he intends. He means to give me enough of the drug that I'm like a mindless cat in heat, and leave me tied here for fucking indefinitely. Oh, God. I won't last long this way. He's basically admitted he's a psychopath and a murderer. Does he really give a shit whether I live in the end?

"No, don't" I plead, suddenly desperate. His hand pauses dangerously close to my nether regions, holding in limbo that whopping dose of sexual stimulants. I simply can't allow him to turn me into a thing. If he sees me as nothing more than a thing, he will only grow bored with me, and his boredom could be a death sentence.

"Don't put that on me. Please. I'll do anything you want."

Luckily, he doesn't seem angered by my begging this time. He just cocks his head in thought. Then he leaves the room abruptly, and I strain nervously in my bonds until I hear the water running in the kitchen. He's washing his hands. Thank God.

Then he's back in the bedroom, shutting the door behind him, leaving us alone in darkness again.

"Anything I want, huh? I do like the sound of that."

I frown at him. Something gives me pause, even amidst the stress of my current predicament. Something about this all seemed too rehearsed. Had he ever intended to give me that drug? Was he just pushing me to get the responses he wanted?

"Are you just playing with me?" I experience a sudden wave of misery. "Is this all a joke to you? Are you really going to take me to the States, or do you plan on just killing me before you leave here?"

My voice is breaking, and I'm really starting to cry now. I'm in such a pitiful position, stretched naked and helpless on this bed in before a monster. I notice him frowning at me, but mostly I'm absorbed in tears now. I don't look as I feel him untie the scarves around my ankles, then my wrists, and then settle gently onto the bed next to me. We just lay there in silence for a while.

"You didn't react the way I though you would, just then," says the vampire.

"How did you expect me to react?" My voice sounds hollow and far away. I'm still high, I realize. I'm just not having a very good time of it anymore. Lex doesn't answer me, and I realize that I don't particularly care about his answer, so that's alright.

"Maybe I've been a little harsh with you." His voice was thoughtful.

Was he kidding me?

I shot him an incredulous look, but his expression was unreadable. As he studied me I began to curl further into a little ball.

"I still want to fuck you." He said, his tone matter-of-fact.

"Okay." My tone was weary, tired and defeated. I just didn't know what else to say. He chuckled a little, then wrapped his hand in my hair and pulled my head back at an uncomfortable angle until my neck arched towards him, and then he struck. I fought instinctively, thrashing and trying to get away from him, clawing at the sheets. He growled then, but the growl was some sort of weird psychic trick because it reverberated all the way through my body. It felt like standing next to a speaker at a concert. I stilled against him as the pain ebbed into something more tolerable. His hand slipped between my legs and to my embarrassment, I was soaked. I cringed, and he laughed at my apparent discomfort.

"Aww," he said, kissing the top of my forehead even as his fingers work their way inside me. "There's no shame in this, sweetheart." Then he smiles at me, showing a great deal of fang. "Not for you. You're my victim, and that makes you pure."

Well, that was the most profoundly creepy reassurance I'd ever received. He slipped two fingers all the way into me and began pumping them in and out slowly, massaging my inner walls as he did so. The pain medicine had long since worn off, and I was still sore from my earlier adventures in the shower...and the night before.

He's being quite gentle, and despite the soreness I can feel myself growing wetter, and I begin to squirm against his hand. But other than my involuntary sexual movements, I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself. I shut my eyes and turned my head to the side.

"Mmmm, what a poor, sacrificial lamb."

He's mocking me, but I don't have the energy to care. I feel his hand grip my chin and turn my face towards him, and I start to shake, but I'm not sure if it's from arousal or fear. When he kisses me, I am completely unprepared for it. It's a real kiss this time- forceful enough that when my lips part in surprise his tongue sweeps in and overwhelms my mouth. Vampires did not, in my experience, kiss in the way humans did, and yet it was definitely happening here. I couldn't recall anyone ever kissing me before. The humans at Blood Money hadn't been interested in it, and neither had Victor. The way his tongue coaxed and twined with mine was warm, slippery and...weird. I pulled back, looking at him questioningly. He gave me a gentle smile and then circled his thumb around my clit, causing a whimper to escape me. His smile turned wolfish and he pumped his fingers in and out of me faster, causing me to writhe helplessly on the bed.

"You can come whenever you want, this time." His voice is rough, growly. I can feel the length of his cock pressing into my side. I really wished he hadn't given me that kind of freedom, because I was afraid I was seriously going to humiliate myself. I whimpered and jerked as he scraped his fingernails over my g-spot, pain and pleasure combining into something impossible, but I fought it as hard as I could. But then he growled, and it felt like my whole body vibrated, and it was enough to push me over the edge. I couldn't stop the moan that escaped my lips, or the shudders that wracked me. I grasped at him stupidly as the storm overtook me, holding onto his arms, even pulling his hair. I shook all over and whimpered mindlessly, but he wouldn't let me come down. He pumped his fingers out of me faster and harder until my hips resumed their motion and I was clawing at him. He kept going until my body seemed to seize up and I went limp, inner muscles spasming around his fingers hard, one final time.

He removed his hand and I just lay there, motionless, feeling tingly all over and sort of weightless. I hated that it was so easy for him to do this to me, and as soon as I could move my limbs I was scooting away from him. I really didn't want him touching me, even if my body seemed to like it at times. But he pulled me back into the curve of his body and began running his fingertips gently down the from of me. I let myself fall back into him, feeling resigned. Maybe it wouldn't last much longer.

I heard a low snarl and I jerked, confused, but it seemed to end in a sigh, and his hand stilled over my bellybutton. I heard him swear under his breath, but it wasn't in English.

"I want you to like it." He said, and he sounded genuinely unhappy. When I turned to face him, he studied me with the troubled expression of a child who just found that his exciting new toy lacked an important feature. It was unsettling. I just stared back at him, unsure how to make sense of the situation and feeling too tired to try.

He shook his head at me as if irritated. "Humans are so ridiculous with their shame and their complexes. I truly don't envy them. You have these amazing orgasms. You just come apart in my arms. You should be able to enjoy that shit. It's just like any other drug. You love drugs." His voice was a purr.

"You should be a motivational speaker," I said. He gave me an amused look.

Then I said, "I'm not human."

He frowned at me and waved a hand. "Oh, you're really close enough. It's humans who chose to make that distinction, not us. They're just prejudiced idiots. Vampires think of Feeders as human."

Good to know, I guess. Lex was studied me thoughtfully, like he was really considering something.

"I'll go slow with you," he offered. He was looking at me with something that closely resembled concern. I didn't trust it for a second. Vampires do not feel emotions in the way that humans do. It is true that their behaviors are more complex and less easily categorized than the average human sociopath. But emotionally, there are a lot of similarities.

His voice had been like dripping honey, but I had the impression that he was having a very difficult time not touching me. I looked at his hands, fisted in the sheets. Nevertheless, he wasn't touching me, and I took that opportunity to scoot back and wrap the sheet around me the best I could. The feel of the fabric covering my skin calmed me, and I studied his face, which was partially shadowed.

"What do you mean by that?" I was pleased with myself for keeping my voice steady.

He appeared to think about that for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was a catlike purr. "I'd go slow," he repeated. "We could put clothes on right now. We'd just cuddle for tonight. And I'd seduce you. I can make you like it, Pieyla. I can make you like it very much. Let me make you feel good. Let me help you escape." His voice brushed over me like fur, and I thought he might be doing some weird psychic shit. Or I was just high. He raised his eyebrows. "But you have to try. You have to, or it will take me...much longer." He appeared to think for a moment. "Probably longer than I have patience for, in any case."

He shrugged, and fixed me with a coaxing look. It was amazing, how expressive his face could be. First-gen Vamps rarely showed emotion at all. They were almost impossible to read. I felt like Lex really telegraphed his emotions. Most likely, though, they were just careful imitations of human expressions. It would me a mistake, to humanize him, I thought.

When he fixed me with big, sympathetic eyes and took one of my hands gingerly, I broke out in goosebumps instead of feeling soothed. I knew it wasn't real. And yet I had no doubt he could seduce me if I put in even the slightest effort. He was too cunning, to skilled at this. I tried to consider it. I knew that, logically, it was best not to turn down any reprieve he might offer me, if only for the sake of my physical well being. Even if the compassion was false, the gentleness would be real, and I was already kind of taking a beating. But my gut roiled at the mere thought of him seducing me. For one thing, I thought of sex as ugly and cruel and I wasn't particularly interested in being convinced otherwise. And I was already feeling quite overwhelmed by the otherworldly creature in bed with me. He was like a force of nature, like a storm, and I was terrified that if I connected with him in any way he would simply bowl over what little personality I had managed to construct for myself in the past year or so. And with no memory of me previous life, a glitchy brain, and an indeterminate life span (spending all your time with vampires is sort of a high-risk activity), that was really all I had left.

"Pieyla." The vampire was snapping his fingers in front of my face. He took my hand in his and rubbed his thumb over my palm. I just looked at him.

"I'm thinking about it."

He almost gaped on me, but settled on an expression of mild surprise. "Weren't you listening to me? I said we could both go put our clothes on right-"

"I think I'd rather just fight you," I said, and my voice sounded empty. I had looked away when I said it, probably instinctively expecting a slap, but when I looked back I was struck by the genuineness of the emotion on the vampire's face. Something about his expression rang true. The look I saw was not anger, or sympathy. It was pity. The vampire felt sorry for me.

And in that moment, I hated him. I felt like a well of hatred opened up within me, and I hated him in a way I wouldn't have realized possible. I hated him in a way that had almost nothing to do with him, and everything to do with him being male, and an asshole. My anger made me feel sharp and alert- it made my mind feel clean, like a blade. And as I looked at his tightly clenched jaw, the subtle hum of his body, I saw weakness in him. It was like an epiphany. Second-generation vampires differed from first-generation all right, and the manner in which they differed was primal. Maybe that savage nature made them more powerful, but they lost something in the process, and that was control. He found it extremely difficult to deny his instincts.

I bit my lip as hard as I could, and let the blood run down my face.

He tensed all over and started to crouch on the bed, giving a low are-you-sure-you-want-to-do-this warning growl that shook the whole room. I jerked my arm, and when he automatically clenched his hand tighter around it I began to struggle, and as I expected, he pounced. He pulled the sheet from me, pinned my arms to the bed and began pushing his cock into me almost instantly. He captured my lip in his mouth and suckled. His fangs pierced it again, much more deeply than my own teeth had, and when I cried out he covered my whole mouth with his in a savage imitation of a kiss, drawing the blood from me.

I was still wet from when he had touched me earlier, and he slid into me and I winced. I was sore as hell, and he began to fuck me brutally. He released my mouth and brought his lips to my ear.

"Cum any time you want," he growled, his voice like gravel, his tone slightly angry, and again, I wished he hadn't offered me that freedom. Though I wasn't anywhere close- it was simply too painful. I felt like I was being stabbed. But then he pulled out of me with rather jarring quickness and grabbed me by the hips, pulling me to the edge of the bed. He held my ankles up, exposing me, easily bending me in two. I tried to push at him with my hands and scoot backwards, but he tightened his grip, squeezing my achilles heels until it was extremely painful, and I felt like he might do permanent damage. I stilled, and he transferred both ankles to one hand. With his free hand he drew some of the wetness from where we were joined and smeared it onto my clit, circling, teasing, tugging it a little. And my hips began to move in cooperation with his thrusts, and pain gradually began to blend with pleasure until I couldn't tell the difference anymore. I thought it was pretty fucked up that I couldn't tell the difference. I'm not sure I would be able to tell if he was seriously injuring me.