Out of the Night

"Huh... how long have you been alive?"

"Longer than I should have been."

I lifted an eyebrow.

Damien stood and held out a hand, "Come, let's get you something to eat."

I wanted to protest, not wanting to give up this time while he was being so generous with information. But my stomach rumbled on cue and I took his hand to follow.

...

A chef was in the kitchen making food when we walked in. I was handed a sandwich and glass of water which I finished quickly as Damien watched. He ate some from a bowl of chopped fruit, offering me pieces in between bites.

As we ate I could feel the effects of his compulsion wearing off. The forced calm subsided and a different feeling replaced it. That thread between us became more obvious and even though I felt some fear, the connection made me trust him. It felt unwise and I knew it must only be because of the effect of whatever this bond was between us, but I could relax in his presence. It felt safe and I knew he would protect me, take care of me.

It was a weird dichotomy. I could remember everything now. There was no longer the fog that had kept me from my memories before. Now I could remember all the reasons I should be apprehensive and fearful. But that fucking bond...

He took my hand and led me through the house when I finished eating.

It was such a small thing, holding hands, but it made me feel warm all over. It was a natural thing to do, to hold hands with someone you care for, and this ageless being was holding hands with me.

I was still looking at our joined hands when we stopped in a room. Looking up, my heart skipped a beat. This room looked almost identical to the one I had been taken to before the auction. A long bar lined the far wall, and the others were covered in shelves filled with books and jars with all sorts of things I didn't recognize. Sigils were carved into the wood on the floor in hypnotizing patterns, and in the center of all of this stood a chair. Black leather with places for arms and legs and straps all over.

When Damien tried to move me forward I stayed still. He looked back at me and I kept my eyes on the chair.

"No."

Damien took my other hand and held them both up to his lips. "Trust me. You'll enjoy it."

I tried to pull my hands away, even as the caress of his lips tugged in places I was trying not to think about.

"Have I not brought you pleasure?"

I thought back to our time in the grove and remembered the pleasure. "And pain."

"Only the first time. This time you will welcome it."

And I was afraid because I knew that I would. I allowed him to lead me to the chair. He removed my dress before helping me onto the cool leather, positioning my arms onto the movable armrests. He reached over my waist, pulling over a strap that made my stomach twitch at the contact. Securing the strap, I was attached to the chair. I was leaning back at a forty five degree angle and watched as he secured my chest and each arm. His fingers left trails of tingles as he worked. My body was already anticipating what was about to happen. My nipples hardened when he casually brushed his hands over them and I felt myself getting wet.

By the time he got to my legs I was pressing them together, trying to relieve the pressure building there. He took my ankles and lifted my legs open, placing each leg into the cushioned stirrups. I was spread open and he looked over my body appreciatively. When his eyes landed on my sex his lips ticked up. Still holding my ankles in place, he leaned in, breathing in deeply.

"If I had to guess, I'd say you're enjoying being tied up."

His tongue lightly caressed my folds, tasting me arousal and my head fell back with a moan.

"You taste like you're enjoying it."

He leaned back, turning his attention back to my spread legs. His lips followed his fingers, kissing each spot before and after he tightened a strap. In no time I was completely immobile. Comfortable, but unable to move more than an inch in any direction.

His lips kissed the last strap on my inner thigh before he leaned in to once again smell my arousal. In the minutes it took him to secure my legs, I could feel myself dripping. As he leaned in, a drop slid down my slit and over my ass. Before it hit the chair beneath me, I felt a finger catch it, bringing the drop back to my ring, circling around it.

I moaned in protest, but even to my own ears it didn't sound like a protest. I had never had any desire to touch or be touched there, and yet in the moment I wasn't revulsed. I wanted him to keep going, to never stop touching me wherever he pleased. As it pleased him, I felt it please me, which pleased him.

A moment of clarity forced its way through when I felt his finger start to press into me there. "Wait!"

"Don't worry. I won't push you too far too fast, relax."

He did pull away though and I felt both relief and a frustrating loss.

"I lied," he said as he walked across the room, behind me. I lost sight of him, only able to listen as he moved things from shelves. "There is one more thing I need to do that will hurt."

What scared me more than his words were the feelings I read off of him. He was worried. If something worried this beast of a man it sure as hell worried me.

I tried and failed to make my voice not waiver as I asked, "What are you going to do to me?"

"Whatever it takes to keep you alive and safe."

The silence was filled with the sound of items moving and clicking as he worked at the bar behind me.

"Have you done this before?"

The rustling stopped and I felt his eyes on me. A beat of silence.

"No."

He rolled a cart to my side and it was covered in tools and objects, some I recognized and some I didn't. One in particular stood out, a tattoo gun.

I had never gotten a tattoo before, although I had thought about it. I could just never settle on a design I liked. Now it appeared the choice was being taken away from me.

He moved a stool up between my legs and sat between them. Reaching over me he picked up the gun so that I could clearly see it.

"No complaints?" He asked, when I didn't say anything, just watching.

"I'm not really in the position to argue. And if you're going to do it anyway I'd rather you just get it over with and don't mess it up."

Damien looked at me oddly with a small smile. "It's almost as if you trust me."

I scoffed, my nervous energy making it sound less confident than I wanted it to. I pointedly flexed my limbs, and they stayed in place where he had secured them.

He placed the tattoo gun back on the cart and retrieved a second item. I didn't recognize the small black oblong shape. He held it up like he had the gun but when he saw my look of confusion, he turned it around and pressed a button.

My eyes went wide with realization that he was holding a small pocket vibrator. It buzzed quietly between his fingers and he went through each setting before turning it off again.

"The runes will hurt, but I'm hoping I can help distract you a bit."

Leaning back on the stool, he reached down, pulling up an unsecured strap from under the chair, between my legs. He placed the vibrator against my clit and even though it wasn't turned on yet, the contact felt divine.

The strap held the device in place, crossing over my navel and attaching to the strap across my waist. He teased the sides of my lips before moving back in place, only a couple inches between his hips and my own.

He got busy readying his supplies and I tried to ignore the way his arms brushed against my skin as he leaned over me.

When he was ready he reached down and turned on the vibrator to its lowest setting. I had to put my head down and close my eyes, trying to control my breathing. My already slick slit was leaking, and my hips automatically strained against the restraints. I didn't get far.

I heard a different buzzing but didn't realize what it was until a stinging pain radiated from the center of my chest, just under my sternum. I opened my eyes, gasping as the shock of the dual sensations. Damien looked down at his work, focused on the patterns he began etching into my pale skin.

The pain wasn't as bad as I would have thought and I was able to grow used to it. I'm sure the buzzing between my legs aided in that. I felt my body settle into the steady hum of mild pleasure and pain. I steadied my breathing and focused on the more pleasurable of the two. I couldn't tell how much time had passed, but I slowly became aware that Damien was talking. His voice was soothing and I opened my eyes to watch his lips move as he worked.

"...I received the runes when I was a boy, first starting my training as a mage. After all these years I still remember the pain of it, even if it was nothing compared to what I would face later. It was the first real pain I had felt in that life of sheltered privilege. I ran away from home to join the order and as soon as they heard my name they took me in.

They imbued me with power to go along with my fancy name, and by the time I was old enough to claim my titles, my loyalties had shifted and my family feared me. My brother sent men to kill me, none of them succeeded. Not until the mage who had turned on his own order to harness dark magic. I suspected my brother was behind it, though I could never prove it. A plague killed him before I had the chance to confront him.

The mage knew I was young and impulsive and used that against me, to trap me. He cursed me with vampirism, bound my magic, and put me to sleep for centuries. When I woke again, most everyone I had known was long dead. He sought to control me, take advantage of my ancestry. We were supposed to be descended from gods, and maybe we were, but the rest of my family were eventually killed or dispersed and my name alone ceased to hold so much power. The dark mage feared what he had created and left me to die, deep in the earth. I remained there for decades, desiccating and forgetting what it meant to be human.

By the time I was dug up by some unlucky marauders I was nothing but monstrous instinct. It took a long time to rein in my bloodlust.

And then I found her. She was an innocent before I stole her away. I had been so lonely and her blood and body called to me. I broke the bonds the mage had created that suppressed my magic, replacing it with a bond to her. As I discovered this new power, she grew unsatisfied with the life of seclusion and hiding. She wanted more.

She wanted me to turn her into a demon. I refused her. She was persistent, more serious than I realized. She used the connections I had begun to make in the vampire societies to find a low class bastard willing to turn her... I felt when it happened, our bond withered as her soul was torn from her.

Vampires have no control, especially the low class. It killed her."

"Did you love her?" I asked quietly, wanting to understand him, his motivations.

"No. I thought I did at first, but no. She was a means to an end."

Damien went quiet for a while, focusing on the runes. The design was similar to the one carved into the wood of the floor. Concentric and overlapping circles of symbols I didn't recognise. Some trailed off in different directions, following arteries, lifelines.

Tattoos peaked out of the collar of Damien's shirt and trailed down his arms. I saw that they were similar to the ones he was now drawing on me. I was mesmerized by the patterns he created on my skin, the ink looking iridescent as it mixed with my blood. He used a damp towel to wipe away the blood as it pooled and I wondered if he was tempted to drink it. It didn't look like it bothered him. In any other situation he would have looked like any other professional tattoo artist.

After a while I faded in and out of sleep, stirred whenever the needle hit a particularly sensitive area. When this happened, I felt him grind into me, pressing the vibrator against me and quickly diverting my attention. He changed the settings a couple times, shifting to a soft pulse.

Halfway through he moved me so he could access my back, leaning me forward and etching along my spine and shoulder blades.

It must have been half a day before he finally finished. I could feel how slick the seat beneath me had become. I was exhausted, but my body was filled with a persistent need.

Damien leaned back, switching off the machine and inspecting his work. He put his supplies away and finished removing the restraints, helping me stand on shaky legs. My body ached and my head spun. He sat me back down gently and appeared in front of me with a small glass of water. Picking up a blade from the cart, I watched as he cut his palm. Blood dripped off his palm, mixing with the water. He added a powder and herb I didn't recognize, mixing it together with the blade until it was a cloudy pink.

Standing in front of me, he put my hands around the glass and lifted it to my lips. I hesitated but he was persistent, looking me in the eye. I didn't sense any malice from him, only determination and worry.

"You need to drink this, all of it. You will feel better."

I drank the concoction as he tilted it into my mouth. It tasted bitter and metallic and I made a face, but I swallowed it all. It went warm when it hit my stomach and the warmth spread quickly to every part of my body that ached. The warmth faded after a moment and I felt renewed.

My hand tentatively traced a line of runes that ran up my side. There was no pain, on ache. The skin felt whole and unscared. I blinked up at Damien who was watching for my reaction.

"Wow," was all I could think to say.

He smiled and helped me stand and this time I was much more steady, though I still needed his arm after being tied down for so long. I realized the vibrator was gone, not sure when that had happened.

I was led to a floor to ceiling mirror on the opposite side of the room, beside the bar.

Speechless, I took in my reflection. I had a general idea of what he was doing but I had no idea how it would all come together. I was impressed. The lines of runes followed the contours of my body, outlining the feminine form, emphasizing lifelines that all converged at my center in a complex design of weaving circles. It was perfectly executed and if I was being honest with myself, sexy as hell.

I breathed it again, "wow."

Damien unbuttoned his own shirt, revealing a hard chest with an attractive sprinkling of hair. He removed the shirt, tossing it onto the bar. I finally had a clear view of his tattoos. The runes on his chest mirrored my own, with a few additions over his shoulders and down his arms. He traced the design in the center, making the ink shine iridescently in the light.

"This is the intersection of life, health, and power. The runes help a mage channel their magic, keeping them young and healthy. My blood is what allows me to access magic, and now that blood is in you, and it will always be in you. It will keep you alive and healthy for as long as these are intact. As I draw power from you, you also draw power from me. We are now blood bonded and our lives are linked."

"What happens if you die?"

"You will live out a normal human lifespan."

"And if I die?"

"You won't."

"Oh."

Damien stepped behind me, inspecting the runes there, tracing a finger down my spine. I shivered, my body still revved up after being stimulated for so long without release.

Seeing my reaction, Damien smirked, stepping up and pressing his bare chest into my back and wrapping his arms around my waist. Catching my eyes in the mirror, he buried his nose in my hair, breathing me in.

"I think you have earned a reward for being such a good girl."

My thighs pressed together and I leaned into his arms. One of his hands moved down my front, over my mound and to the outside of my lips. My legs parted for him and he growled his approval into my ear.

I was suddenly being lifted off the ground and then I was back on the chair. He pushed me back, pulling my hips forward until my ass was hanging off the end. He leaned down and sucked my clit into his mouth, using his tongue to make me cry out and run my fingers through his soft hair. My hips bucked up to meet him.

A finger teased my entrance, pressing into my folds and curving up, pressing against my walls. He added a second finger, scissoring me open, stretching my hole.

The fingers left too soon and he leaned back, standing up. I watched as he opened his pants and let them fall to his ankles, where he kicked them off along with his remaining clothes. He was entirely naked and the figure of a god. I couldn't help but stare as he grabbed my thick thighs, lining his cock up with my entrance. He pressed the tip into me, moving shallowly.

Damien leaned forward, eyes dark, and kissed me. His lips pressed passionately against mine as he thrust forward, burying his cock deep inside me. I cried out against his mouth and his tongue took advantage.

I kissed him back, following his lead. He moved inside of me, and my hips matched his rhythm. I could feel the pleasure building. One of his hands left me for a moment, returning between us, flipping on the vibrator and pressing it against me. As his pace increased he increased the vibration and I could feel that I was about to go over the edge. My toes curled and my grip tightened in his hair. He broke the kiss, kissing my jaw, playing with my ear.

"Cum for me," He huskily whispered.

I tipped over the edge, my body convulsing under him as he pressed in and out of me, drawing it out. Sharp fangs pierced the side of my neck and I cried out. The sting felt exquisite and I could feel the life that flowed into him. I felt his intense pleasure and it spurred me on, making my climax continue for an eternity. He fed from me, pumping inside of me.

His motions became more frantic until he pressed into me hard, pulsing inside of me. He growled into my neck, locking onto me possessively. A hand moved to the other side of my neck as he drew a final pull from my vein, gently cradling my head as it fell back onto the chair.

We stayed there for a moment, Damien still inside of me, lips on my neck, and me, boneless and satisfied.

...

When he pulled away I stayed seated, exhausted from the entire day. He took me into his arms and carried me out of the room, back to his bedroom. As soon as I hit the sheets I passed out.

I was stirred awake by the shift of the bed as Damien climbed in beside me, taking me into his arms as he too fell asleep. I fell asleep as soon as he did.

...

I woke hours later to the sunset shining through the window. We had slept the rest of the day, and night was upon us.

Feeling the pressure of my bladder, I squirmed out from under Damien's arm.

"Nnnn," he grumbled, frowning in his half consciousness.

"I need the restroom," I whispered, not wanting him to fully wake up yet.

He let me go and I slid off the bed, quietly walking over to the bathroom.

The massive mirror over the sinks stopped me in my tracks. I took in my reflection once more, half expecting the runes to have disappeared overnight. The fully healed lines of black ink shimmered slightly with my movement, iridescent. Definitely not a regular tattoo.

I saw to my business and stopped by the shower on my way out.

It only took me a moment to decide on a shower. I turned the heat all the way up so that the water burned my skin a little and steam filled the room. Gently scrubbing the runes confirmed that they were in fact permanent.

When I turned to rinse soap out of my hair I spotted a silhouette by the door through the steamed glass. He was still naked and I could see his pleasing form shift toward the shower. He opened the door and stepped in, unashamed of his nudity. I looked my fill the same way he did me and he approached me, pressing me against the wall and lifting me up.