tagNonHumanRaven Walks Ch. 11

Raven Walks Ch. 11


Chapter Eleven: Hunter

"I don't want you to go," he said.

She peered at his reflection in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. She spit, wiped her mouth and said, "It's a little late for you to try and protect me, don't you think?"

He sighed as he watched her dress. "What can I say?" he quipped in an unmistakable, sexy southern drawl. "I thought I'd try being your white knight for a while."

She chuckled as she went over to where he stood, shirtless and beautiful. She ran her hands along his chiseled, tanned chest and lost herself in his bright blue eyes; slightly obscured by strands of his dark blond hair. "You always have been," she assured him before she traced his four day old stubble with one finger. "And I've always loved you for it."

He kissed her then, tasting the mint on her full lips. He curved an arm around her waist and pulled her close, as close as he could get. He loved the feel of her soft curves against his rock hard body.

There was a sexy glint in his eye as he pulled her back toward the bed, his hand slipping up her black t-shirt and easily releasing her bra. His mouth curved into that insufferable grin she'd found unable to resist years ago.

"Distracting me won't stop me from going," she advised, but she didn't protest as they fell together onto the bed. She straddled him as he tore her shirt from her body. Her heavy breasts swayed in front of his hungry mouth.

She gasped as his mouth found its target, and he rolled her over onto her back. Strong male fingers undid the button on her jeans and eased the zipper down. She groaned as her hand grasped a handful of his long hair.

The stubble of his beard tickled the soft ivory skin of her chest and stomach, but she did not giggle as she pulled him up for a scorching kiss. His mouth plundered hers, taking all the passion she had to give. Her nails carved into the taunt muscles of his back as her legs wrapped around his waist. Through his jeans, she felt how hard he had become. She ached for him.

She pushed him back over onto his back and her hands slid across the smooth terrain of his stomach. His hand was in her hair as he watched her caress his erection over the cool denim of his jeans. She placed loving little kisses along his chest and over his stomach as her hand reached into his pants to cup that which she burned to touch, to taste, to feel.

His head tipped back when she eased his pants over his hips and released his rock hard shaft. The cool air was replaced by her hot breath as her red and black hair spilled over his thighs.

He watched her full lips cover the head of his dick as she swallowed him in a slow, sweet motion. She took her time... she savored him. Her tongue danced along the silky smooth head of his cock and he thought he might just spontaneously combust if he didn't fuck her soon.

So he pushed her by the shoulders onto her back as he fiercely ripped her jeans down, which caused her to gasp. But she was right there with him and kicked her pants free, then opened up for him.

He crawled between her legs, feeling her warm body surround him as he slipped inside her. She was tight, wet and warm and he groaned as he buried himself as deep as he could. He wanted to disappear into everything she was.

Their eyes locked as he thrust in and out of her; their intimacy one of body and soul. Her hand was in his hair as it fell over his shoulders. She watched his face contort with his desire for her and she cried out for him to fuck her harder.

They were lost in their own world, whispers and moans. He loved to watch her eyes widen with each thrust, as he filled her in ways she couldn't even articulate. It was as if he was made for her and she for him. They fit each other perfectly.

She rolled him onto his back and straddled him and clutched him deeper inside of her. His hands went to her full hips as he guided her up and down on his cock. She writhed against him, her movements fluid and languid like a cat. His hands slid up her bare back and around to her supple breasts and the smooth curve of her stomach. He loved everything about her.

He sat up and kissed her, his hands in her hair. She groaned as he flipped her back onto her back, his movements more urgent; his need tangible.

She cried out as he fucked her harder and faster like she begged. She felt herself lose control and she screamed with each wave of indescribable pleasure. That was all it took for him to fall over the edge himself. He too cried out as he thrust himself deep inside of her and spent all his passion in an intense orgasm that took his very breath away.

He lay on top of her and gasped for breath, his forehead against hers, his hands cupping her face.

When he was able, his eyes met hers.

"I don't want you to go," he repeated.

"I know," she whispered, fighting the tear that threatened to escape.

But she slipped out from underneath him and went anyway.

Sebastian moved like a zombie through the darkened halls of the secret rooms that lay beyond his club. He could still feel her, he thought -- though his mind was numb with pain. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her face.

He swayed with the enormity of his grief and steadied himself against the hallway wall. Who had done such a horrible thing, he wondered again.

When he heard the sobbing, he could have sworn it was his own. His dazed amber eyes peered into the dark recesses of the hallway. He heard it again; it was muffled but it was definitely another person sobbing in one of the rooms.

It was a woman.

Sebastian ran over and threw open the door. Was it possible? Could it be?

There, amidst dark blue velvet and black lace, was a tiny girl with black hair, smudged dark eyeliner and pale blue eyes.

His brow knit with confusion. "Who are you?"

"Pixie," she managed in between hiccuping sobs. Her fearful eyes were wide under tangled wisps of hair. "Who are you?"

"My name is Sebastian," he said. His shoulders drooped with his disappointment but he couldn't bring himself to leave this frightened girl all alone. He stepped inside the door but kept a safe distance between them, to prevent scaring her anymore. "How did you get here?"

She shook her head, then winced in pain. Her hand slipped up to her neck, which bore two hungry puncture marks. She gasped and then reached for the other side of her neck, only to find identical marks. "Oh my God," she whispered.

Sebastian approached her slowly. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked. It was a moot question. He could feel her apprehension tangle with her own dismay. She didn't move away as he sat next to her on the bed. He reached out a large, gentle hand to capture her tear when she nodded.

She didn't know why his touch was familiar. When he opened his arms to her, she didn't resist. She climbed into his lap like a child, even though she'd lived to see her second decade. His presence enveloped her and for some inexplicable reason she felt safe. She felt loved.

He rocked her as she tried to wrap her mind around her new existence. "What do I do now?" she whispered, and somehow knew this ebony god would be able to answer her question.

"You feed," he replied in a low voice, his hand in her hair.

Her eyes swallowed her face whole as she stared up at him. "How?"

"Do what feels natural to you," he suggested.

She nodded as she stared at his full, seductive mouth. She bent forward and kissed him tentatively, slight open mouthed kisses that felt like butterfly wings against his lips. He groaned into her mouth, which made her braver. Her tongue traced the fullness of his lips before it slipped inside to explore the recesses of his mouth.

His hands went to her narrow waist as she straddled him. She felt him hard beneath her and suddenly she hungered for him in a way she'd never before experienced. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she arched against him and kissed him harder.

His large hands spread against her small back as he pressed her into him. He felt her spirit rise and her aura explode all around him. There would be no fangs with this one, he realized. She was a psychic vampire -- like him.

She was the being his power with Sonja had created.

And he loved her. Instantly, he loved her.

He laid her back onto the bed gently, his hand touching her face, his whispers lost in her mouth. Their energies fused together in an electric kaleidoscope of color. Her tiny hands pushed away his clothing as he gently disrobed her. Without ever breaking their kiss, they were naked against each other. His rich mocha color against the creamy white ivory of her skin, his being so large and imposing against her being so petite. There were different, but the same.

When she felt his thick cock against her leg, she whimpered into his mouth. She needed him to fill her, to complete her. But he knew she needed more preparation. His hand slipped between their bodies to seek out her engorged clitoris. She gasped as he found it, his fingers feather light as they moved rapidly against her. She bucked against his hand and opened her legs to scissor cut around his waist. He fondled her to her first orgasm before he even thought about fitting himself inside of her, simply because he was so hard he thought he might tear her in two.

When he finally did position the thick head of his cock against her quivering pussy, she was deliriously begging him to fuck her. He eased himself inside her tight cunt, slowly opening her up to him. It caused her to come again, harder, her spasming pussy clutching him in deeper inside of her.

Gently he rocked in and out of her as he molded her to him. Every luscious bit of her sweet, tight hole reconstructed to fit his exact length and width. He drove her crazy with his slow lovemaking. No matter how many times she came, she knew there was more.

"Do I... feed now?" she asked.

"Whenever you're ready," he told her.

"Do I... bite you?" she asked again, her eyes wide.

"What do you hunger for?" he whispered.

Her eyes closed as she searched her soul. "You," she whispered back.

"What about me?" he prodded.

"I want you to come," she whispered. "I need you. I need your cock. I need your cum."

"Yes," he replied as he laid on his back and pulled her on top of him.

Like a tigress she rode him, bouncing on top of his raging erection. He grunted and groaned as he watched that pretty pink pussy dance along his dark meat, driving him to distraction as she fucked him like an animal. His aura rose from his body, thick and sweet, and as it hit her senses she thrashed on top of him in the most intense pleasure she had yet to experience. With one final thrust up inside of her their union exploded in a brilliant flash.

She fell against him as he sucked all her beautiful energy from her body. She could barely keep her eyes open as she snuggled into the crook of his arm. "I love you, Sebastian," she said, and knew, though it made no sense, that she meant it.

"I love you too," he whispered to the enchantress at his side; his final gift from Sonja.

Out in the club, the party and resumed, though the crowd was considerably smaller than before. Sonja's demise had demonstrated that vampires too were vulnerable to this killer, and several weaker ones had already found other places to haunt.

Ginger tended bar with her eyes on the door. She wasn't sure who she expected to see; but she knew that she had to keep her eyes, and her mind, open. When she caught sight of Raven's long, dark hair, she wasn't surprised. Somehow she knew he wouldn't allow anyone to scare him, especially a bloodthirsty cohort of the night. She smiled to herself as she reached for the bottle of water she knew he'd order.

That smile quickly faded as she rose up to find none other than her sister, Abigail Mandrake, at his side at the bar.

"Ginger!" she gasped. She had never expected to see her again, much less at this bar.

Ginger gulped but said nothing. Raven silently observed their exchange.

"What are you doing here?" Abi asked.

"Tending bar," was the quipped reply.

"I can see that," Abi said, her dander starting to rise. "But why here?"

Ginger just shrugged. "Why are you here?"

Abi sent a glance over to Raven. It was difficult to explain. If she felt like she had to... which, aggravatingly enough, she did. Ginger's eyes followed Abi's only to find Raven staring at her with renewed interest. "Never mind," Ginger said as she turned to leave.

Raven grabbed her by the wrist, which sent the same electrical shock throughout his body. "Don't go," he stated in a low voice, before he added the powerfully seductive, "Ginger." He turned to Abi. "Why don't you introduce me to your friend, Abigail?"

Abi gave her a pointed glare. "She's not my friend. She's my sister."

Raven let her go. "Sister?" he repeated. "How interesting."

Ginger escaped to the other end of the bar to tend to another customer. Raven glanced down at his hand, which was bright red. "Very interesting, indeed."

Abi's eyes followed his. "What's wrong with your hand?"

He just smiled as he pulled her close. "It's not touching you."

Though he kissed Abigail full on the mouth, through one partially opened eye he saw Ginger watching them. For reasons unknown to him, that sent a powerful volt through his loins. Who were these women, he wondered. And what exactly were they doing to him?

He glanced at Abigail who stood close to him. Nothing so far, he told himself. Despite the spontaneous orgy at Lillith's haven the night before, Abigail had not yet given herself to him. He had forgotten exactly whose idea that had been -- his to keep her safe, or hers to keep her whole.

Either way, she knew she was safest at his side; and she was far too deeply involved to get out now. So he had obliged her request to return to the club, even though he still wasn't entirely sure he should.

But at the end of the day he was a vampire, and he wasn't in the habit of denying himself the things he truly wanted. And heaven help him, he still wanted Abigail.

He glanced back at Ginger, who sipped from her own bottle of water and quickly tried to look away.

"Let's go to the back," Abigail suggested. She wanted - well, needed -- to return to the room where she'd been attacked. It was the only way she could find a clue as to what this Creature was and why it wanted her.

Raven liked the sound of that so he agreed and they stepped away from the bar right into the path of a tall, powerful man with long, blond hair and steely blue eyes.

Abigail gasped when she saw him.


He cracked his famously lopsided grin. "Abigail," he responded. He glanced back at Raven. "Who's your friend?"

Raven sized up the other man before reaching out a hand. "Raven Crowe."

Hunter glanced down at the offered hand. "Sorry," he murmured with a smile. "I'm a germaphobe."

Raven dropped his hand but his eyes squinted. There was something unsettling about this person, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"What are you doing here?" Abi asked in a low voice, trying to avoid looking him in the eye.

"The same could be said of you," he replied. Ginger rounded the corner to come stand at his side. "I'm here to see my wife," he added with almost malicious glee. He seemed to delight in how that comment hit home.

"Wife?" she repeated as she stared at Ginger incredulously.

Ginger nodded, although reluctantly. Hunter went on. "I followed her all the way to Europe. It only took one substitute to realize that I always had the real thing." He draped his arm across Ginger's shoulders. "What you do for love, huh?"

Abigail gulped and looked away. "Congratulations," she managed through a tightly constricted throat. She couldn't even look Raven in the eye. "I've got to go. I suddenly don't feel very well."

Raven didn't understand, but he followed her as she raced out of the club. With one final look back to where Ginger and Hunter stood he realized something.

The man had no trouble at all touching the unusual sister with brightly colored hair.

Raven understood in an instant: neither of them walk where Raven walks.

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