Moonlit Surrender

by Kitty Wilder

  He did not let her rest though, instead crawling over her and settling himself between her limp thighs with a soft kiss to her forehead and a ragged, “Good girl,” before plunging effortlessly between her slick lips and deep into her hot opening. He held himself just above her and ground into her warmth and softness with deep, primal groans and his labored panting in her ear. More alive and real than anyone has ever been to me.

  She reveled in the phantom sounds of the life force which had once pushed through his veins with the knowledge it was she who brought him so close to the land of the living. She wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him and pulled him closer to her so she could feel his breath on her neck and hear the faint drumming of a heart that still knew how to beat despite being dead for centuries now. Her blood she had given him still lingered, warming his skin and his touch and she nestled her cheek against his and begged him softly to claim every bit of her.

  He moaned enthusiastically to her pleas and sunk himself into her one final time before tensing and groaning loudly at his release. She felt the spasms of his cock and the warmth of his seed filling her and gripped him even tighter between her thighs as she dragged her nails down his back. She reached her hips up to grind into him once more to milk out every last drop of his satisfaction, then fell back, truly exhausted now, with a sigh of contentment.

  He brushed away the stray strands of hair sticking to her sweaty forehead and neck and then kissed her mouth with a gentleness that made her heart ache.

  “Was the meal to your liking?” she teased after a moment.

  She felt his smile spread against her mouth. “Positively delectable, dear. You are an absolute treat.”

  His words infected her with her own smile and she grabbed his face in her hands to kiss him once more.

  With a slow reluctance, he pulled away from her and sat up on the edge of the bed. “As promised, I’ll go get you something to eat now.” He stood up and headed to his closet to pull out a fresh set of clothes for himself before disappearing into the bathroom to wash up quickly. “You take your time getting dressed,” he called from the other room, “and I’ll find you something suitable to eat from the market nearby. I don’t think one scrap of food has touched my kitchen in all the years I’ve lived here,” he chuckled as he returned to where she lay spread out on his pillows, sleepy with satisfaction. “Now, now.” He smiled as he touched her cheek, and continued, “No time for naps, dear. We have class tonight. Time to get ready.”

  Lucy groaned in disappointment, wanting only to languish away on his massive fourposter bed until he returned so she could spend the rest of the night rolling around naked in it with him.

  His hand slid to her throat and gripped it tightly. “What was our first rule, princess?”

  She bit her lip to try to hide the smile threatening to break free.

  His brow furrowed in disapproval. “Perhaps you require better motivation to jostle your memory.” He gripped her a little tighter so she could hear her pulse thundering in her ears. “Something you find a little less enjoyable.” His hand released her delicate throat and dragged down her arm and the gentle slope of her lower back until it found her ass. In one swift motion he landed a firm swat on her left buttock.

  The strike was hard enough to leave a stinging in her flesh, but she felt her grin break free in spite of herself with a breathy gasp of shock and arousal.

  “Perhaps you enjoyed that a little too much as well?” he growled in surprise and then left another smack on top of it. “We’ll have to find more suitable punishments for you, naughty girl.”

  “Maybe I’ll just pretend to hate them,” she taunted.

  He pressed one knee into the mattress so he could lean over her and with his lips close to hers whispered, “Everybody has limits, sweetheart. Trust me, I’ll find yours.”

  She felt a shiver run down her spine and goosebumps crawl over her skin. “And what if I enjoy that too?”

  Fire and brimstone filled his smoky chuckle. He tucked a rebellious coil of sweat-curled hair behind her ear. “You won’t.” He pressed his cooled lips to her cheek and then left the bed to fasten his belt and straighten his tie before instructing on his way out, “Keep the door and windows locked. I’ll return presently.” He plucked his keys off of his dresser and then ducked out of the bedroom doorway.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied obediently.

  “Good girl,” he called out before the front door signaled his exit.

  Lucy leaned back onto the pillows and felt her cheeks hurt from the smile that just wouldn’t seem to fade away.

  After a steaming hot shower and a thorough cleansing, Lucy wrapped her body in one of John’s fluffy white towels while she squeezed her hair out in another and wandered back into the bedroom to dig her phone out of her pile of clothes by the window. She stood staring down at the town lit in the orange warmth of the scattered lampposts running along the edges of the walkways and saw, barely peaking up over the top of buildings, the dimly lit market sign of the twenty-four hour grocery store John was probably wandering through this very moment. She thought about discarding the towel and waiting for his return right there in the window to tempt him with a little show but chuckled and thought better of it.

  There’s a tail on the human. Sounded ominous. Was it more than premonition and wondering? Had someone in fact been watching them? Was there someone out there watching her right now, some nefarious henchman of the evil Lerexus hiding in the shadows, cataloging her every move and waiting to strike?

  Lucy felt a foreboding shiver run down her spine and chose to close the heavy drapes and switch on a lamp by the bed. She felt a sigh of relief and sank down into John’s old leather chair in the corner of the room and crossed her legs under her as she unlocked her phone and thumbed over to her messages. She scrolled past a few coworker names until she found Ben.

  Lucy: I found somewhere to stay. You can go back to the house.

  Ben: Shacking up w the Crypt-Keeper?

  Lucy rolled her eyes and wanted to scream at her phone.

  Lucy: Yes. I’ll get my stuff this weekend.

  Ben: Gr8 Bring ur key 2

  Lucy: K.

  Lucy let out a frustrated sigh and set her phone down on top of John’s stack of books as she heard the handle on the front door jostle and then open.

  “John?” she called out as she saw the light from the hallway spill into the dark room briefly before closing and returning it to pitch black. She stood up and headed for the bedroom doorway to greet him but found the room silent. She squinted and tried to make out the shapes in the room, sure that something was off, but found herself unable to place it.

  She took a step into the living room. “John?” she asked again a little softer with less conviction.

  A sliver of light pierced the room for just a moment as the curtains rustled and Lucy thought she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

  She sidestepped, positive now that something was wrong. She felt a primal instinct to flee and started to quietly feel her way to the front door, inching past the chair and coffee table. Her toes gripped hardwood, signaling the end of the living area. The door was only a few paces.

  She felt the tiny hairs at the back of her neck stand up with the inexplicable feeling that she was not the only one in the room, and could sense eyes on her, but couldn’t tell where they hid in the darkness around her. Lucy’s heart began to pound with panic, each beat screaming in her ears to get out. She caught something out of the corner of her eye again, positive this time she had caught actual movement, and turned to see the reflective glare of two piercing violet eyes in the black of the room, catching what little bit of light was spilling in through the crack of the drapes. They glowed like an animal’s in the night, like John’s. She knew it wasn’t the affectionate stare of her lover peering at her in the shadows though.

  In an all-out panic, Lucy outstretched her arm blindly for the door as she closed the distance between herself and escape, but as she glanc
ed over her shoulder, she saw those eyes blink and then vanish out of the light. Before her fingers could grip the brass of the doorknob, she was suddenly grabbed from behind by slender, cold arms, much stronger than was natural for such a frail frame. She fought with all her might to slip out of the vice-like grip, but then felt one of the unnatural arms slide up and cover her face with a damp rag.

  With her heart racing and adrenaline pumping, Lucy could not help herself from inhaling the penetrating odor. The chemical’s sweet, alcohol laced scent filled her flared nostrils and she felt control of her movements gradually slipping away as she began to fall backwards into the feminine frame behind her. Her stomach twisted in knots as she was wrestled to the floor by her unknown attacker. Nauseous and suddenly overcome by a drowsiness that seemed to settle into her bones, she found herself unable to fight anymore and fell limp onto the cold floorboards staring into the unlit living room. The last thing she saw were those eerie violet eyes glowing at her from across the room again.

  Then everything went black.

  Chapter 17

  “Wakey-wakey, princess,” mocked a shrill voice.

  Lucy felt her cheek slapped firmly a couple times and then slowly opened her eyes, squinting through her lashes at the single light bulb swinging from the dingy ceiling. Her blurry vision finally focused on the uneven rhythm of the bulb and then suddenly and without warning, she felt her stomach turn sour and rolled to the side of whatever surface it was she was bound to and retched up what little contents were still inside.

  She heard an awful giggle from across the room. It was almost a mechanical sound, and strangely familiar.

  She felt a steady piercing pain settle into her skull and tried to raise her hand to rub her temples, but found not just her one wrist, but all her limbs strapped down to a rusted and stained gurney that could’ve been almost as old as she was. Lucy groaned in pain and fear, trying in vain to break her bonds.

  “There’s no use in that, Ms. Beckett. You’re just going to wear yourself out further,” a woman spoke from the direction of the laugh.

  Why do I know that voice? Lucy asked herself.

  “The master will be here shortly to deal with you.”

  “What?” Lucy croaked through the scratch of a dry throat and the sour taste of vomit still on her tongue. She fought her restraints again, harder this time, and raised her aching head to find Doris at her side and the towel she had been abducted in long gone. “Professor Pemberley?”

  “Yes, Ms. Beckett. Here I am.” She grinned wide and gave a proud twirl, her lanky body wrapped in a red dress far too bold and far too low cut for her awkward frame. “Aren’t I glorious?”

  Lucy was confused beyond words.

  “I haven’t shown you the best part.” She giggled like an enthusiastic child. “Aren’t my fangs just beautiful? Look!” She leaned over the gurney and gave a frightful, animalistic hiss just inches from Lucy’s face.

  She wanted to scream, but her breath caught in her throat and she gasped with a muted flinch beneath her bonds.

  “I never thought I’d meet a more wonderful man than John, but oh, what a spectacular being! He is a god among our mortal realm - your mortal realm that is. John led me on for years, dangling his gift like a carrot, but the master welcomed me to the fold with open arms and here I am. I’m what I was always meant to be!” She ran her bony hands up her body and into her faded brown hair as if she were bathing in beauty itself.

  “I don’t understand,” Lucy rasped hoarsely once more. “Where am I? What did you do to me? Where’s John?”

  “John is probably just now realizing your absence and fluttering about his little apartment like the worried mama bird he is,” Doris giggled. “As for your current state, it’ll wear off soon enough. A little chloroform never hurt anybody.”

  She shook her head in an attempt to clear her fuzzy mind and focus but the thoughts kept coming. Pemberley. Chloroform? Master? Those fangs! She’s a vampire now!

  “I know who did that to you, Doris, and you should know he’s very dangerous. You shouldn’t be helping him. Let me go and we can go get John. He’ll help us.”

  A sinister chuckle bubbled out of Doris. “Oh you have no idea. Silly little girl, trifling with monsters and powers far beyond your limited understanding.” She turned to a rolling medical table, blocking its unseen utensils as she organized them. “You just walk in with your little black skirts and your globs of eyeshadow and think you can steal the gift I’ve been working to get from John for years now. I spent so long trying to figure it out – how to do it – and all this time it was so simple, so easy. All I needed was to drink some of his blood in exchange.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Maybe I should be thanking you. If you hadn’t wrapped his cold, dead heart around your finger, the master might never have found his leverage, might never have found me. All was well under way by the time John caught a whiff of the master’s plans. I told him what would happen if he snubbed me. I told him I would turn him in to whoever would listen.”

  Lucy felt the nausea returning as she tried to focus past the swinging light casting a slow rhythm of shadows back and forth over her captor. “John already knew about Lerexus before he broke things off with you. I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  She scoffed. “Who do you think tipped the master off? Who do you think brought him here? John found out too late. He’s always underestimated me – as an educator, a department head, a woman! And now as one of the creatures of the night.” She turned around with a long syringe giving it a couple taps to knock any air bubbles out before approaching the gurney where Lucy was still helplessly strapped. “It’s over, child. We’ve already won. John is a dead man walking, and deservedly so. Make your peace with it. All that’s left in your control is to pray to this fallen god for mercy that you might be spared the same fate.”

  Her eyes widened in fear as Doris approached and she fought harder against the sturdy straps fastened tightly around her wrists and ankles. Finally, understanding the true depth of danger she was in, she screamed. She screamed for help and then in unintelligible shrieks of terror as she convulsed on the gurney and tried in vain to flail out of her restraints.

  “Hold still,” Doris hissed angrily as she attempted to line the needle up to plunge into a vein in the hysterical girl’s inner elbow. “You’re just prolonging the inevitable!”

  Adrenaline coursed through Lucy, fear pushing her body beyond the headache splitting her skull in half, through the fatigue she could feel in her bones, and past the flop sweat of a sour stomach. She thrashed against her captor and to her surprise, she saw the syringe thrown from Pemberley’s skeletal thin fingers to the floor. With a triumphant grin, she watched it roll across the stained and cracked tiles, all the way to a corner of the room cloaked in shadow where the meager light of the swinging bulb could not reach. Before she could celebrate the small victory, out of those shadows she saw the same two glowing animal eyes she had witnessed in John’s living room before she had lost consciousness.

  What emerged from the darkness was not what she was expecting. First, there was a foot stepping into the dim light, pale and bare with long, pointed white nails. The foot soon brought forth the hem of heavy white robes draped over a long and lean frame like an ancient Roman politician, and then an arm reaching down to pluck the syringe out of the dust and grime of the weathered medical room floor with long slender fingers with matching pointed white nails. Another step brought the other foot and arm, and then a long proud neck supporting the regal, yet sunken features of a young man even paler than John or Doris. The skin stretched over his high cheekbones seemed wafer thin and almost translucent, with his piercing violet eyes set on either side of a large aquiline nose beneath a serious brow and the whitest hair she had ever seen on a person, straight and silky, hanging longer than her own where it stopped at his elbows in a stark halo about him. Below his beakish nose was a grimacing mouth with plump lips that seemed out of place set on a broad and powerf
ul jawline. At some angles, there was a soft beauty to his foreign features, then at others a sharp harshness. He was nothing like the lurking demon she had expected to emerge.

  For a moment, Lucy thought she was watching a ghost float across the room to her. The strange Romanesque specter stopped at her bedside and she saw now that his luminescent glare was the palest of blue with visible blood vessels mixing in their red hue to create the illusion of an unnatural pinkish color staring down at her.

  “Master,” Doris whispered reverently, then retreated to the medical tray to wait silently for his instruction.

  “Lerexus, I presume,” Lucy stated with contempt.

  The ghostly Roman said nothing, not so much as acknowledging her words to him, instead inspecting her like an item on display at a market. His sharp, icy fingers trailed over her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps and shudders as he looked her over. Finally, he spoke, his voice not at all what she anticipated out of a vile villain. A gentle voice, smooth as honey, commented to himself, “What unholy fruit, said I, could have tempted the proud Johnathan Wright to such demise? What sweet ruin could tempt him out of his cowardly hiding? What specimen could be sweet enough for him to debase himself with and stoop below his godhood to sup?” He mocked incredulously, “Betwixt two thighs of a mere mortal? This is what he chose to risk his livelihood on?” He turned to Doris in utter disbelief, then looked back at Lucy. “Tell me, girl, what gold resides between those legs?” His hand landed roughly on her naked mound and squeezed as if testing her ripeness. “What wisdom did he find hidden between those breasts?” The hand moved over her clammy abdomen to her exposed breasts. “Did you whisper to him the secrets of the universe as you seduced him from his proud throne? I see nothing of exception before me, no grand temptation that could keep a man from embracing his birthright of immortality. You are nothing and he was a fool to meddle in mortal affairs. It will be his undoing, at long last.”