Raven Walks Ch. 01

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A vampire searches for more than a conquest.
2.3k words
4.48
35.9k
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Part 1 of the 23 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 05/06/2008
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Chapter One: Aubry

The air was warm, thick and sweet -- a true taste of a deep Southern night fragranced by magnolia. Though it was late, no one could stand to be bound by their houses and walked the street under a bright full moon. It was a perfect night for a vampire on the prowl. Beads of sweat glistened against exposed skin, desperate for even the slightest breeze. Hair hung damp under the oppressive humidity, just like a lover's would after an enthusiastic tussle on satin sheets.

Raven Crowe walked these streets this night, a stranger alone amidst a crowd. His dark, soulful eyes took everything in; every exquisite form, every shadow, every movement. But it was what he heard in his mind that made him especially dangerous. He heard thoughts and desires no one dared breathe, but still harbored deep in their lustful hearts and wicked minds.

It would be on those thoughts he would ultimately prey. And no one was safe.

Despite the heat, his coat was long, and fabric from his shirt and scarves billowed behind him in a breeze he alone seemed to create. The old boots he wore barely made a sound as he moved into the crowd, between sweaty, warm bodies. Their musky scent filled the air, making Raven heady with excitement. He longed to touch, to taste... to feed.

His eyes, rimmed black with eyeliner, scanned the crowd, searching for "the one". If nothing else, Raven was extremely selective. He had exquisite taste and very high standards, but of the things he desired most it was to find the one whom he could desire above all reason or rational thought. He knew he could have the beautiful people who glided through the night like star shine; but after hundreds of years of dining on their egos he found them hardly a challenge anymore.

Likewise those shrinking violets who slunk along the streets barely making eye contact with their own shadow were too easy to seduce. To easy to sway.

Where was the one who would equally seduce him? Or were those days of challenge long gone now that he'd mastered his art of passion?

The thought depressed him, and weighed much heavier on him than the humidity. He peered skyward and noted with a bit of anticipation that a storm was brewing to the west. He loved the unpredictable nature of the weather, Mother Nature was truly a cruel vixen who would toss you about her will.

All he needed was to find her in human form and he would be her slave.

Until then, he was the master of all.

The pulsating sound of music filled the stillness of the night as he approached his favorite tavern. It was a club that catered to Gothic youth and those earthbound creatures of the night. He could be lost there, free to watch humanity devolve to its baser nature. Sex and frivolity reigned supreme as people lost their identity in alcohol and drugs.

Talk about your easy pickings.

Raven would go there if he had an itch to scratch, but it never quite satisfied his true hunger. No one had in a long, long time. But he did have urges that demanded to be met. And in this coven he could readily find someone willing to feed, willing to fuck.

He mingled with the crowd undetected as he assessed who might provide the most excitement for the evening. He'd long since given up long term relationships. Instead he reveled in his hedonistic nature; enjoying the chase more than the conquest.

A beautiful blond in a tightly bound corset brushed against him as he passed by. With a wry grin he decided that there was a lot of merit in the conquest as well. But despite her hungry stare and her bare and willing neck, he pressed on toward the bar.

The bartender gave him a familiar smile. She had been a conquest herself in the not too distant past, but she seemed to understand that was all someone like Raven could offer and never sought him out again. Perhaps she better than anyone knew the score when it came to establishments such as this. Give when asked, leave before required.

For some of the patrons, it could have been deadly otherwise.

For that reason, Sonja stayed mostly to the shadows, just keeping glasses filled and flying just under the radar. Raven, however, had proven much too strong a temptation to deny. His long, black hair hung smooth and full down his chiseled back, and his body was hard and toned beneath her hands. She recalled their night of unrestrained lust and hunger with a tiny shudder. Sometimes she swore she could still feel his mouth on her skin.

That was especially true when she fell into those bottomless brown eyes. They had been her true undoing. She doubted anyone could resist their power.

He gave her a smile as she handed him a bottle of water. No words were exchanged. They didn't need to be. He could read her thoughts, and it pleased him to know she was still so completely under his control he could have taken her right there on the bar in the middle of the crowd. He said nothing to encourage nor dissuade.

It was exactly how he liked it to be.

The rim of the water bottle touched his full lips as he silently surveyed the crowd. Dark hair, dark clothes, a heavy metal beat -- it was the same ol' scene.

He sighed.

And that's when he saw her.

It was the shock of red hair he noticed first -- so bright and intense against the dark, Gothic backdrop. It flowed like molten lava down across creamy white flesh. For a moment, as if she sensed his stare, her eyes met his. Their electric green fire seared him all the way down to his feet, and he couldn't help but notice how shaken she was as well. He could almost hear her gasp across the crowded room.

That was when she quickly turned and disappeared into the writhing bodies on the dance floor.

His water forgotten, Raven moved like air through the crowd, desperate for one more glance -- to chisel that face into his memory so he could never forget how he felt in that one brief moment. It was like a drop of water after days lost in the desert. Instantly he knew he had to have more. It never would have occurred to him that he would be unable to get it.

That was why the more she evaded him, the more desperate he grew. There, just ahead, he saw her bright mane of hair covered by a black hood and she escaped from the bar out into the night.

His senses were on overload. He couldn't even make out her scent, so many sights and sounds and smells assaulted him at once. He burst from the bar out into the hot night. He looked one way, then another. She had gone.

With almost a growl of frustration he turned back toward the bar when he saw a similar black hooded female figure disappear into the shadows of the alley.

Quickly he followed where she had gone. The storm he had predicted lit up the night with intermittent flashes of lightning, and thunder underscored the sound of his boots as they pounded against the pavement. Wind flew down the alley, and he watched as she held her hood over her head and ducked down another street.

Like a bullet he followed. He turned and then realized that she had boxed herself into a corner. The cloak covered her as she shrunk back into the shadows.

He approached her slowly, saying nothing. The closer he got he could feel her tremble, and he felt a surge of excitement. He smiled and the lightning glinted from the fangs that protruded predominantly from his mouth. She whimpered and it was his turn to shudder.

When he came close enough to touch her, he didn't. Instead he just stood there and allowed his aura to envelop her. She seemed to sway under its power. Clouds moved across the moon and cast a shadow on the only visible part of her face, her delicate chin, shining white and luminous in the night. He groaned as he thought about her neck, her breasts, her thighs -- all likely just as luscious and creamy and enticing.

He could tell she was determined not to look at him. Slowly he reached out a hand to tip that chin upward. He couldn't see when her eyes met his but he could hear the gasp to confirm that they had. She stopped whimpering, stopped shaking, and for a brief moment even ceased to breathe.

His body burned with desire, his cock alive with the imminent conquest. Slowly, hypnotically he pulled the cloak and expected to see her fiery hair tumble over those amazing green eyes.

Instead it was his turn to gasp. Instead of long red hair, his victim had short blond hair. Instead of green eyes, they burned blue. His hand fell away from her face, and even his fangs retracted as his body cooled. "My apologies," he stated softly and very uncharacteristically before he turned to leave.

"Wait," she called out despite herself. He turned back. In her eyes he saw a spark of interest mixed with a fear he knew only fueled her excitement. She had no idea what his staying meant. If he had any morals at all he'd have turned and left her there.

Instead, his fangs began to grow.

"You're afraid," he said softly, capturing her in his hypnotic gaze. She shook her head in denial, but her eyes betrayed her. "Liar," he whispered with a smile.

"The storm," she offered weakly.

He laughed softly. "What is your name?"

"Aubry," she whispered.

"Do you like vampires, Aubry?" he said as he moved closer, his shadow engulfing her. He ran his tongue along his fangs, purposely drawing her attention to both.

She started to shake her head, but ended up in a weak nod as her eyes fixed on his glistening fangs.

He pressed her warm body against the cool brick wall behind her. He felt every curve mold to him. "You should run away, Aubry," he whispered, the evidence of his sexual desire undeniably pressed against her.

Her shudder returned. He felt her fear rise up from her soul. She struggled against him ever so briefly before she glanced back up into his eyes. Like a flower he watched her open up to him; mind, body and spirit.

He bent to cover her mouth with his own. It was warm and wet and his long, snake like tongue tore between her lips to conquer her mouth in a savage kiss. She struggled again, but a lot more half heartedly. Inside her body she wrestled with fear and desire, and he knew the desire was winning. With a deep guttural groan she collapsed against him as her own tongue wrestled with his own.

His hand pushed the material of her top aside to cup her breast, her erect nipple responded to his touch. He wrenched his mouth away to kiss his way down her chest to capture the nipple in between his teeth. She cried out as his teeth penetrated the skin and bright red drops of blood dripped across her ivory flesh.

She glanced down to see her blood smeared across his mouth as he suckled her. His eyes, cloudy with his own overwhelming desire, met hers. It was more intimate than any act of intercourse. She shuddered with a powerful orgasm, crying out into the empty alley.

He lifted up her skirt as he rose to a standing position. Before she could even come down from the first climax he tore her panties, exposed his raging hard cock and shoved himself roughly inside. She was incoherent as he began to fuck her against the wall, screaming out over and over again with each thrust. Her fingernails curled into his shoulders as she bounced against him.

He grunted as he fucked her, staring deeply into her eyes, watching her face contort with each orgasm he delivered with each expert thrust.

She glanced at his protruding fangs, but this time without the same fear as before. "Take me," she whispered urgently. "Do it!"

He groaned as he grabbed her hair with one hand to expose her neck. When he felt himself on the brink of coming, he sunk his teeth deep into her tender flesh and blood gushed into his mouth just as he shoved himself deep inside of her and spent his load.

She screamed as her blood coursed into his mouth. She struggled for a moment before slumping against him.

Gently he disengaged himself from her body. Her eyes were glazed as she finally came to, and she smiled as he pulled her skirt back down and wiped the blood from her neck. With one last tender peck on her lips he turned to leave.

"Don't go," she pleaded.

He never turned back around, even as she slid down the wall and onto the ground, her only comfort one lone tear.

Raven savored the taste of her blood in his mouth and the sensation of her imprint on his cock; but he would never return to fair Aubry. She had been good, but after hundreds of years good just wasn't good enough.

His thoughts returned to the mysterious redhead from the bar.

Perhaps she could be the one, he pondered just for a moment as lightning and thunder guided his path.

Somehow, though, he doubted it. It was his path to walk alone.

And so he walks.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 14 years ago
Can't wait for more

They always say that the first few lines of any story would make or break it - you managed to get me hooked in a matter of minutes... I think you're an excellent writer; the words just come alive right off the page! Right now I have no critique for you... I just know that this is a definite favourite for me here on Literotica. Thank you and keep writing!

RattlertooRattlertooalmost 16 years ago
Great beginning

I really loved the beginning of your story. You did an excellent job of setting the stage for the rest. Your use of description painted a vivid picture. I look forward to seeing where this leads. Great job!

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