Lovelust

She's sitting on a large couch, staring back at me, her long blonde hair flowing down her shoulders, her skin perfectly tanned and smooth, her eyes glowing blue even in the darkness, and her body seems to radiate her beauty, reflecting my own longing back at me, making my heart ache, my breath stop; she's gorgeous, the stunning beauty I've always remembered. Our eyes lock and I can feel her pull, feel the depth of those eyes, and I see myself swimming inside of them, absorbed by her.

My teeth break the skin of my lower lip and I flinch back to awareness. I drop my eyes to the floor quickly, pull myself to my full height, take a breath, deep and cold, and fill myself with my new strength, more than enough to conquer her now, if only I can will it to be so.

I lift my head and begin walking towards her, trying to shrug off my momentary defeat. Her smile is as lovely as ever with her lips stained red from blood. She watches me as I approach her, her arm wrapped around the shoulders of a woman whose leg is draped between her legs. The woman's short dress has been pushed up high on her thighs, her skin is very pale and I can barely see her chest rising. She has been drained, almost to the point of death.

"Hello, Daniel," she says as I come to a stop in front of her. She holds her free hand out to me, palm down, her wrist limp.

"Genevieve. You look as beautiful as ever," I say as I take her hand. The touch of my lips to her hand is a warm comfort and memories threaten to invade my mind. I push them to the side and let my kiss linger, feeling her heat rising at my touch, but chilling my own. She pulls her hand from me and I stand, forcing the smile from my face.

She stares at me, her mouth opens to say something, but she hesitates, her eyes becoming the murky blue of deep seawater, before she closes her mouth, draws herself up, her bountiful breasts threatening to spill out of the shirt that is nothing more than a brassiere, and stares back at me, her eyes coming alive again.

"This is Angela," she says, pulling the woman closer to her. "I would introduce you, but she is feeling a bit weak right now."

"Understandable," I say.

Genevieve's hand moves between the woman's thighs. Her hand disappears inside the darkness of the skirt, but the soft, almost noiseless moan from the woman leaves no mistake with what the hand is doing. Genevieve moves her other hand around the woman's shoulder and pulls the dress down, exposing firm, petite breasts, the nipples hard and faintly blue.

"I fear the night had been too much for my sweet Angela," Genevieve whispers, her face hidden inside the woman's chestnut colored hair. Angela moans a bit louder and her eyelids flutter, her back arches slightly. "But I think there's still some life left in her," Genevieve says and laughs, deceptively sweet.

"Perhaps you should leave her alone before your attentions become... overwhelming," I say.

I watch as Genevieve's hand plays between the woman's thigh, as her other hand massages the woman's breast, and I can feel my own lust, not just the lust of sex, not just the lust for the woman's skin and cunt, but the lust of the kill, of the slow drain, pulling the life from her in slow, orgasmic spurts, caressing her cooling skin, until the last of her life flows through me.

"Oh, I think it's too late for that," she says.

Genevieve pulls the woman's hair to the side so I can see her lips parted, her teeth pressing close to the woman's already bruised and bleeding neck. She licks her neck slowly, her eyes watching me. I sway on my feet, overcome by the powerful urges, and I clench my teeth together.

"This just won't do, Eve," I say.

Genevieve's eyes flare a blazing, harsh blue and her lips pull back in an ugly sneer.

"Don't call me that," she hisses and pulls herself from the woman's body.

"I'm sorry, Genevieve. It's been a while. I am very forgetful," I say, letting the smile linger. I know she hates that name, hates the connotations, hates it because of who used to call her by that name. It's one of the few ways I know to truly hurt her.

"You are very cruel, Daniel," she pouts, her lips turned down, childish, her arms folded over her chest.

I drop to my knee in front of her, lay my hand on her bare knee, and lean against the couch. I stare up into her eyes, offering her the smile she can't resist, letting my face soften.

"I would never intentionally hurt you, Genevieve," I say, letting my hand slide up her bare thigh, high enough to slip under the skirt.

"You do nothing but hurt me, Daniel," she says, trying to not meet my gaze.

"I owe you so much, my love," I say, trying to not cringe at the old endearment.

Her thigh is as smooth and tight as I remember it. My fingers linger close to her sex, close enough to know she is not wearing panties, not that she ever has.

She uncrosses her arms and touches my cheek, her eyes meeting mine. I lean into her touch, remembering her loving touches and her stinging slaps. Ours had always been a tumultuous love, born of desire and pain, draining and satisfying, and ultimately too destructive for either of us; I was just the one with the sense to know it.

"I've missed you, Daniel," she says, her fingers running through my long hair, playing with it as she always used to.

She slouches down in the couch and for an instant the tips of my fingers touch the trimmed hair of her sex and I pull my hand back to her knee.

"Don't you still want me?" she asks, her eyes glowing with want, but still with that fire to possess.

"I'll never stop wanting you, Genevieve," I say truthfully.

Her hand moves down my face to my neck, her fingers lightly touching the hairs.

"We could have been something great. Together. We could have made all of them ours," she says.

"That has always been your dream. Not mine," I say and turn to the side to kiss her hand quickly.

"It is the dream of all of us. You just deny it and thus deny what you are," she says, her voice never losing the seductiveness, but tinged with that ruthlessness that always made her so dangerous.

"I deny nothing, Genevieve," I whisper into her hand as she touches my face. "I have always been myself, and never pretended to be anything more."

She sighs, a deep sigh filled with longing and contempt in equal parts. She is the only one I've met who could love and hate at the same time, feel pity and disdain simultaneously. Though must assuredly ruthless, she could love deeper than any being I've met. She has always been an enigma.

Her fingers linger on my lips before she breaks the touch and sits up straight, having pushed her emotions down again. I slide my hand up her thigh before standing; to not have taken the liberty to take advantage of an extra touch would have been an offense to her.

"Then I suppose you want me to leave my date alone now, then," she says, her eyes staring through me as she moves closer to Angela, whose chest rises and falls in slow, short breaths, holding on to the last bit of life left in her.

"Yes, I would," I say and move closer to her, staring down at her, wanting to break through the ice she has put up, let her see the eyes she could never resist.

"Such a romantic, Daniel," she says, her hand sliding down the front of Angela's body, over the woman's nipples, pushing the top of the tight dress down to her stomach. "Such a beautiful woman, isn't she?" she asks. "Don't you feel the desire to possess her, to take her, to have your pleasure of her?" I press my teeth together as she speaks, knowing she's trying to get a reaction out of me, trying to pull the beast from me, but I must show her I am stronger than that. "You could give her such pleasure as she dies, Daniel. Pleasure that she would give her life for." She pulls her legs under her and curls her body around the woman. "We could both love her, Daniel." Her hands are sliding over the woman's body, sliding over her own body, thin layers of cloth are peeling away, and my mind is raging so that I can barely see her movements, so that all I see is the baring of flesh, and I hunger. "We could love her as we once did so many others." I move towards them, my knees touching the couch, feeling her magic writhing through the air, and I do remember, I remember those that came to us so willingly, they were always so willing, their minds open, their hearts aching, just wanting to be filled by us, to feel that ecstatic pleasure as they parted this world. I remember such pleasure. "Just this once, Daniel. Just one more time. Lets be together again." She leans towards me, her head hovering at my waist, her eyes searching my eyes, one hand pulling my shirt from my pants, the other moving between Angela's legs. My resistance is sliding away so easily, so quickly, awash in memories and yearning, and I can hear the woman's slow breaths, so heavy, so lustful. "She's about to slip away, Daniel. We can make her last moments pleasurable or we can leave her to her agony. You can't save her." Her hand is sliding along the skin of my stomach, her fingers pressing into the muscles.

For a moment I try to fight it. I try to remember my new strength, remember my resolve, remember that I have changed, that I am no longer this beast, no longer Genevieve's loving killer. For a moment. But when I hear the woman sigh, when I see Genevieve's finger sliding between the folds of the woman's sex, when I hear her want, her need, when I feel Genevieve's hand sliding up to my chest, I can no longer fight it. I give in.

Genevieve yelps in surprise as I push her back onto the couch and sit on her thighs, moving quicker than she can remember. But when our lips touch, after too many years of being apart, too many years of dreaming of that touch, we both dissolve into it, lips melded together, tongues touching, hands clasping, pushing, straining, wanting to pull her into me, push myself into her, and her fevered breath, her warm skin, her wet lips, all as I remember, and yet so much more; for her power has grown as well and I feel it pushing against me as I push back against her.

She breaks the kiss, her lips peeling away from mine, and her hands clutch my head, as she peers into my eyes.

"Daniel, how you have grown. You have become what I always knew you would," she sighs and in her eyes I see not just the love, the strength, the greed, the passion of her gaze, but I see admiration, even respect.

I say nothing. I let the gaze linger, let her feel me inside of her, my power slowing rolling through her, and a smile spreads across her face and her eyes become hazy. I can feel her body warming, feel the moisture between her legs, see her chest heaving, the exposed skin of her breasts glistening. Her hands slide down to my chest and in one violent motion she rips the shirt from my body.

For a moment her eyes focus on my bare chest and then my power sinks lower into her chest down to her groin and her back arches, her eyes flutter shut, and I feel that I have her, as the last of her magic is overwhelmed by my own, as her body is overcome, as I ignite every nerve in her body, I know my beast.

I grab her shoulders and push her down onto the couch, her head lying in the woman's lap. I press my lips to hers and delve into her mouth as my hands explore her body, caressing her flesh, pulling her warmth and letting it flow back into her. Her hands push at my shoulders, my chest, my arms, her fingers dig into my flesh, her nails scrape across my skin. She gasps for air as I release the kiss and then her back arches underneath me as I such at her neck, my kisses sliding down to her shoulder, her skin always so smooth, so soft, so sweet.

"I want you, Daniel," she moans, her lips pressed to my ear. "I want you now. I want to feel you inside me."

Her hands clutch at my pants trying to pull them down. I move my kisses down from her shoulder, down her chest, and pull her nipple between my lips, letting it scrape across my teeth as I pull away from her and kneel over her between her legs. I open my pants, my eyes devouring her body, watching her chest rise and fall with her frantic breaths, her face glistening with sweat, her hair tossed into Angela's lap. Her eyes gaze at my hands as I pull my pants down to my thighs and my cock stands out over her, as hard as my body, but much more pale, and I remember how she used to caress it, kiss it, stroke it, whispering how it was made from granite, so smooth and pale and hard, but warm like flesh.

She spreads her legs apart, beckoning me to her, and I lie between her lovely thighs as she wraps them around me. I slide my cock over her wet pussy and we both moan.

And like a bolt of lightning I feel her again, her power rolling through me. I arch my back as I slide into her, riding her magic down into her, pushing deep inside of her, swallowed by her, and she rises to meet me, her hands clasping my hips, her body surrounding me, and deep in the recesses of my mind I know I was wrong, I know I didn't have her, her power was there, just inside of her, waiting to be touched by me.

Then instinct takes over and I slide in and out of her in long, deep strokes, holding my body over her as she writhes below me, my feet pushing against the arm of the couch as I drive into her, twisting into her, and we groan together, her nails dragging down my chest.

"We were meant for each other, Daniel," she moans below me.

I look down into her eyes, flickering with her fire, and I believe her, as I move inside of her, her cunt perfectly formed to my cock, her power matching my own, I believe her, and I know that I love her.

Her hands caress my cheeks and she raises herself to me, her eyes watching me, her lips parted, and our lips meet. I fall onto her, pushing her to the couch, falling into her kiss, as she moves below me, pulling me into her, her legs wrapped around me.

I feel myself pulled towards her, my power pulled into her, draining through my cock and my mouth, thrashing along my spine, crackling across my skin, and I push into her deeper, holding myself inside of her, twisting into her, wanting to penetrate her entirely, fill her, give myself over to her.

"I love you, Daniel," she moans against my mouth, her voice deep and husky, broken by my thrusts.

"I love you, Genevieve" I mumble back, words I hadn't spoken in so long, words I would never speak, pouring out of me as my magic flows from me.

"Come inside me, Daniel," she whispers, her eyes hovering unfocused in front of me. "Pour it into me. Give it all to me."

And I want to. I thrust into her hard, making the couch squeal in protest beneath us, bringing a shriek of pleasure from her throat, and I want to give her everything, push all of it inside of her in a final climactic release.

Then, a moan, cold and barren, ripples through my mind, daring to push the lust aside, breaking through my mad reverie. Genevieve's eyes flicker, for an instant, her head tilts, looking to the side and then back at me quickly, but in that instant the link is broken.

I move my gaze over Genevieve's head cradled in the woman's lap to her hand that is between the woman's thighs, her fingers working deftly over the woman's soaked pussy. The woman's body has become deathly pale, almost drained, and it was her last, death moan that saved me from my own foolishness.

Genevieve's touch on my cheek brings my gaze back to her.

"Look into my eyes and love me as you did," she moans, her lips red and wet, her face beautiful, her cheeks flushed with lust.

I feel her inside my head now, pulling me into her, using the woman's life to pull my power from me, to overwhelm me, to drain me. Her eyes squint, a flicker of the knowledge that I feel her now, and then she pulls herself from me, the light dying in her eyes, her hips sinking into the couch, but it's too late; I know.

I grab her thighs, pull her around me, and sink onto her. My lips pull back into a sneer as I wrap my lips around her neck and thrust into her deeply, pushing my power into her with a brutal force, and her body arks below me, a high scream of punished ecstasy erupts from her strained throat. I thrust into her hard and fast, my hips bashing into her, unleashing the ferocity of my beast as I never have before, and she's overwhelmed, her power is pushed to the furthest depths of her being as she's filled by me. My hands slide to her buttocks and hold her still below me as I pound into her, sliding the length of my cock in and out of her, letting her feel the full extent of me inside of her, to feel the emptiness without me, and then the relief as I slide into her, filling her, until bursting, until it's too much, and then withdrawaling again, repeating in a frenzied cycle that leaves her gasping for release below me.

I thrust into her hard, lifting my body over her, pushing into her deepest depths, and an orgasm rips through her, constricting every muscle, a shriek tearing through her clenched teeth, the couch torn in her clawed hands, and I push into her rapidly, pulling her orgasm out, pulling from her, sucking her power from her body, and I reach towards the woman, Angela. "Angela," I whisper, and I pull her towards me, her face pale, dead, but so beautiful, so human, and I press my lips to her mouth, forcing her blue lips apart, and Genevieve screams below me, writhes under me, as I stroke inside of her, her cum flowing around my cock, her power flowing into me, out of me and into Angela, pouring into her mouth, over her skin, and I push deep inside of her, down into her, finding the last of her vitality glowing hot and bright, flaring alive, and her tongue touches mine, her moan is soft and warm, and then I feel her past, feel her pleasure, feel her every emotion, and I feel Genevieve's fingers twitch over Angela's clit and her body erupts, lashing back against me, and I thrust into Genevieve uncontrollably, and explode inside of her, the cum bursting from my cock in a torrent that makes my body clench stiffly over her, every muscle concentrating on pouring into her, my lips still pressed to Angela's as the orgasm brings the flush of life to her body, becoming warm again, her mouth open in a deep groan, and Genevieve pulls me to her, wanting to be filled by me, until the last dying spurt and I break the kiss and fall on top of her.

I lay on her, feeling my cock still hard and long at rest inside of her, breathing heavily, her body still below me as she gasps for breath.

"That was a bastardly thing to do," she whispers between impassioned breaths.

We both laugh, and it feels good to be with her again, inside of her. But I remember her attempt to take me over, to drain me, to disguise her thievery as love, to make me feel the same for her, and I stop laughing abruptly. I rise over her and look down into her eyes, shiny and alive with the laughter and the sex.

"That's because I am a bastard," I say coldly. "But a bastard that will never love you."

The laughter in her eyes fades quickly and her lips turn into a sneer.

"I almost had you," she says, her hand sliding along Angela's bare thigh, seductive even in defeat.

"But I remember too easily. And your lust and greed will never be mistaken as love."

I pull myself from her and see the despair in her eyes as she feels herself empty again, and I know she wants me, in her own twisted way she loves me. She turns away from me as she pulls herself up and straightens her skirt.

"Well, Daniel, you do still cum as much as ever," she says, trying to hide her sadness behind gutter humor. "I feel about ten pounds heavier." She laughs and her eyes glide past me to look over my shoulder, as I stand up to dress. "Oh," she says, her eyes getting wider, her lips turning into a sneer. "Looks like our show had quite an effect."

I turn around as I fasten my pants and wonder why I hadn't noticed already, noticed the people in couples and groups, thrusting, moaning, sucking, groaning, overcome by heady lust. The couches, chairs, tables, floor, walls, are covered with people entwined around each other in a confused orgy of limbs and flesh, overcome by the power that leaked from our violent coupling.