The bedchamber was dark. Papa thought I had already retired for the evening because I, feigning a terrible headache, had begged to be excused from him and my latest suitor. He had directed the butler and housekeeper that no one was to disturb me, upon my personal request of him. Now I lay on the fine ecru linens of my bed, half-undressed, with only a candle to illuminate me, and waited.
I was waiting for him. My dark lover, my beautiful creature of the night who came to me in this very room, who made love to me always yet preserved my innocence for the one I was to marry. I trembled in anticipation and smoothed a hand over my blonde hair, done in the latest like the Gibson Girls on fashion plates did theirs. I looked down at myself, checking my black corset and silk petticoats- both trimmed in matching Brussels lace- and my white silk-stockinged feet. He liked me like this... laying alone, nearly in the dark. His beauty cloaked in black on an island of cream linens and burgandy quilts, he called me.
I closed my brown eyes and touched my coral lips in memory of the last time he had come to me. My lips parted and an involuntary moan escaped me as I recalled his cool fingers tracing over them and down to my throat. A small scritching was picked up by my ears and my eyes flew open. Was he here already?
As I surveyed my room, I saw no sign of him. The cream tapestry curtains with their woven burgandy flowers lay still, as did the sheer rose silk panels behind them. The wooden floor held no discarded clothes but my own cobalt blue dinner dress and white gloves and kid leather button-up boots. The dark wines and golds of my bedcurtains were undisturbed. The cherry wood furniture held no handsome figure, nor was one leaning against the pink-and-sea-green pinstripes of my wallpaper. The boards of my mohair-carpeted pine floor did not creak with his weight.
Disappointed, my eyes closed again. Suddenly, a breeze fluttered a loose curl against my cheek. I called to him, my forbidden one, opening my eyes to see him standing in the frame of my now-ajar French doors that led to my balcony. It always shocked me to see him there, my room is the only one on the third story, and he was always immaculate in his appearance from his hair to his gloves, suit, shoes, and cape. Never was he mussed or ruffled, yet always on my balcony he would appear at night.
He stalked slowly into my room. He shed his cape, then his hat and gloves as he prowled towards me. I was always delighted, yet strangely afraid, of this man who walked with such power but held me so very gently. I knew I was smiling as I held my arms out to him. Faster than I could blink, I was in his arms and he was kissing me with a passion so deep I could feel my skin burn. His kisses lit me up and ravaged my body until I panted in desire and exhaustion. I could feel my skin melting off my bones and I knew that I was laid bare to him, all my secrets were his and I was his, and he and I were one forever.
Just as I was about to black out in ecstasy, he let me go and I dropped into the goose-down pillows on my bed limply. I was moaning and I knew it. He knew it was for him and because of him. His lips formed a cruel smile. He knew his power over me was complete, and I would do all he asked of me and more. He slid off of my bed and rid himself of all his clothes, standing before me naked. His height was always a shock, not many men stood a full foot above my five-foot, four-inch frame.
Motioned to him, I slid from my place of repose on the bedsheets and crossed the carpet. He turned me so my back was to his chest and wrapped his arms about me. I shivered; I knew what was to happen now. With one arm about my chest, and one holding my waist, he began to nibble and suck the sensitive flesh of my neck. I groaned lustily; he laughed at my noises. Then I felt them, the teeth, those terrible teeth that could gouge me open at a thought, but only pierced my flesh like pinpricks. They sank into my neck and I sank to the ground.
He followed my fall, pillaging my very blood, draining it from me- and there I kneeled, loving every second of the fiery bliss that ran through my veins. His hand slipped into the top of my corset, his cool fingertips brushing my budding nipples, making them pucker more. Oh, yes, my lover, I cried. I, a girl who would be among the wealthiest in the country upon my dear father's departure from this world, was reduced to begging this man for physical love with all my heart.
His low, rumbling laugh pierced my body as surely as those elongated canines. I felt it in the very core of me, where I was already more than prepared for his attentions. As his teeth left my flesh, he gave the pricks a long lick, and I knew this meant no marks would be visible tomorrow. He pulled me to my feet and undid all three layers or my petticoats. The last he slid down my legs reverently, feeling them all over as he kneeled before me. My garters and stockings he discarded after removing as well, and still upon his knees before me he kissed me.
Oh! the joy at that kiss, placed upon lips I hid from all but this one man under my skirts and petticoats and shifts! I knew that I was dripping and his groans of pleasure heightened my own as he lapped hungrily at my juices like a man deprived for years. I felt the telltale shudders of my climax wash over me again and again as his toungue snaked into my honeypot and his nose pressed and rubbed the pink bud at the top of my most intimate area.
When I thought I could stand no more, he stood and grabbed me, now wearing naught but my corset, and carried me to the bed. I knew what he wanted and I went immediately to my hands and knees. His hand slid up and down my nether-lips gathering my juices. He smeared them on the hard shaft between his legs that was pointed in my direction and came back to me for more.
His digits were manipulating me, and I was obliging his quest as I felt my creamdrip more and more with every shudder of my inner muscles. He had never taken my virginity, not really, and I loved him for that. When I married I would not be disgraced. But he made love to me another way, a way that I had grown to enjoy immensely, and I knew that it was coming. When he had enough of my honey coating his hand, he slid it along his member once more, then he shoved two fingers into my anus.
I moaned and climaxed again as he prepared me to accept his shaft. When he finally entered me I screamed into my pillows in joyous pleasure. Grabbing my hips, he stabbed into my rectum again and again. I thrust back against him with all I had, and I felt him swell inside of me. I was moaning happily into my bedsheets and gripping my pillows. Over and over his member penetrated my tight backdoor and over and over I reached orgasm in crashing waves of bliss.
His thrusts speeded and he began to fuck me, really fuck me, in earnest. There was no other word to describe his animalistic strokes and the grunts he made into my neck. His hands reached under me and pulled my breasts roughly from their hiding place in my corset. He used them to push and pull me harder on his shaft. With a loud grunt, he stiffened and came inside me. He was squeezing my breasts so hard they hurt, and I knew he had bruised them. I blacked out as he moved off of me to get dressed.
I woke later that night. My candle was burned halfway out. The room was devoid of his presence- he had abandoned me to the night again. All of a sudden, I felt a tongue on my abused little butthole. I thought he had come back. I turned, and gasped! Someone else was there, smiling at me in the semi-dark!
To be continued....