“Majestic and magnificent,” I growl wickedly against her neck as I rip her undergarments to shreds and pull them off her. I hold the tatters of her undergarments up and release them to the magical air around us, letting them float like confetti or stardust.
“Did you just say that about my ass?” she moans. “And are those shreds of cloth my panties?! You are so getting me new underwear when the mall opens tomorrow.”
“Must you speak through our fated coupling?” I grunt as I carefully part her rear cheeks and run my long finger along her dark crack until she trembles in my arms. I feel her arousal spiral upwards at my lethal touch, and I grin and lick my lips as I circle her secret rim with my little finger. “Ah, that took your voice away, did it not? There is a reason Vampyres are the great seducers of the universe. Our touch is pure ecstasy. It affects humans so deeply because the human heart has a touch of darkness hidden deep within its core. A touch of evil, if you will. You feel it, Lady Daisy? You feel it move inside you like a serpent rising from its lair?”
“Can we stop using the word lair, please?” she mutters, her mouth wide open, lips sparkling in the darkness. “It’s affecting my sensibilities.”
I laugh in surprise at how she is managing to not be completely lost under my spell, but I love the challenge. So I smile and nod, and then without warning I drop to my knees, rip her skirts off, and bury my face deep into her warm, wet sex.
She screams as I drive my tongue far up her cunt and curl it until I bring forth a river of her wetness, drinking from her like an animal at the waterfall, her tangy juice quenching a different kind of thirst, a thirst so sweet in the satisfying it rivals even the blood-lust of my creed.
“Oh, fuck!” she screams, and although I do not indulge in the language of the commoners, hearing her howl in ecstasy makes my balls tighten, makes my cock go to full mast and almost explode on its own.
But still I drink from her, tasting her sweetness as I drive my long finger up her dark rear hole, bringing forth another resounding orgasm from my Valentine, the one who refused my gift of a heart but nonetheless gave me hers when the time came to make the choice.
Lady Daisy comes once more, coating my face and beard with her wetness, marking me before I truly mark her! Hah! Is that not a doozy?
I could drink her feminine sweetness all day, and there will be days I will do just that. But no longer can I hold back from what my pumping heart needs, what my throbbing cock wants, what my aching balls yearn to deliver.
“Up, Lady Daisy,” I whisper, pulling out from between her legs and gripping her strong thighs with all my strength.
Then I leap up with her in my clutches, pinning her high up on the wall of my lair, up near the cragged rock ceiling which is home to bats.
“Ohmygod, am I . . . am I seriously off the ground?!” she shrieks. “Are my legs dangling like I’m flying? How is this possible? How are you holding me up without me even . . . oh, shit, Drachus. Oh, hell, Drachus. Oh. Oh. Oh!”
Her eyes roll up in her head as I part her legs and line my massive cockhead up to her dripping slit. Then I push inside her with a slow power that carries a thousand years of need with it.
A thousand years of need . . .
And all the love in my heart.
A heart that pumps warm blood for the first time.
She’s helpless in my arms as I hold her up off the ground and slowly push the final inches of my manhood into her. It feels like she was made to take my length, my thickness, my power, my seed.
She was meant to take my heart.
And give me hers.
“Do you feel it, Lady Daisy?” I whisper against her gasping lips as I hold her big, beautiful body up against the walls of our lair.
“Um, yeah I feel it,” she mutters through a shaky smile. “Hard to mistake what’s happening here, you know.”
I glance down between us, see how my shaft is spreading her wide in the most powerfully beautiful way. “Not that, Lady Daisy. I mean this. Feel this.”
Still deep inside her, taking extreme care not to let her fall, I reach out and take her hand by the wrist. I place it against my heart and hold it there.
“My heart beats in a different rhythm, Lady Daisy,” I whisper, almost overwhelmed by the warmth that flows through me. “My blood flows warm, Daisy. Like a human. For a thousand years the only time I felt warm blood in my cold body was in the few moments after I fed. But this is my blood, Daisy! Our blood! You are inside me, just like the prophecy promised!”
“Well, that’s wonderful that your prophecy came true and you’re now a warm-blooded animal,” she says. “Sorry I’m not the virgin damsel, though. I guess you can’t win ‘em all.”
“Ah, but you are my virgin bride, Lady Daisy,” I whisper. “You do not think you are. But I do. I saw it. I feel it. I know it.”
Her eyelids flutter and somehow she manages to focus. “Um, what? How can you know I’m a virgin when I know I’m not?”
“Why do you believe you are not a virgin?” I say as I drive up into my bride once more, bringing forth a moan that brings out a fanged smile on my bearded maws. “The truth is you are untouched and unclaimed, pure as midnight, fresh like a new kill.”
“So I know you’re a creature of darkness and violence, but you might consider working on your romantic metaphors,” she says. “Also, I’m thirty-three years old, Chocs. I haven’t had a lot of sex in my lifetime, but trust me, the deed’s been done.”
I lean my head back so I can look full upon her face. And now I see what she means, and I laugh out loud and then laugh again before kissing her roughly on the lips and pushing even deeper into her.
“I do not mean the deed of the flesh, Lady Daisy,” I say with a snort. “That means nothing in matters of the heart. It means nothing in matters of two hearts coming together as one. I already saw the events of your past, Lady Daisy. There were two men in your past. But they meant nothing in your heart. Their touch left you cold. It meant nothing. It counted for nothing. It was nothing. You are my virgin Valentine, and that is final.”
“Well, that’s convenient,” she mutters as I start to pump harder, my balls preparing to deliver their seed into Lady Daisy, to send us both down the path to our forever, to plant the seeds for a new age, a new race, a new beginning. “So we can just twist the words of the prophecy around to suit us? Were you a lawyer in a past life, Chocs?”
“There are no past lives when you live forever, Lady Daisy,” I growl as I feel her shudder and squirm as my cock gets harder inside her, drives deeper into her, plunders her valley all the way to the river, stakes its claim on every inch of her secret space. “Now prepare for eternal life, Lady Daisy. Prepare for immortality. Prepare for forever.”
And then I can no longer hold back, and with a bloodcurdling howl that would wake the dead across the world, I ram back into my bride and explode from the depths of my dark soul, pouring a torrent of my hot seed so far up into her I can hear it in her throat.
She tries to scream but all that escapes is a muffled gasp as the force of my release almost breaks her in two. I hold her tight in my arms as I take her suspended against the wall like a dark angel, a demon of the night.
“You are mine,” I roar as I come again, shooting a load far up her cunt and releasing another even as I feel her dripping down my balls and onto the ground of our lair like the cave walls themselves are bleeding. “Now and forever, Lady Daisy. Tonight and every night. For a thousand more years. For the rest of time. Our hearts joined in marriage. Our souls joined in blood.”
And just as I push the last of my seed into her, I open my mouth wide and screech to the heavens, cry out to hell, howl to the darkness, stare into the light.
And then I bite down on her bare neck, driving my dripping fangs deep into her throbbing vein, sinking into her warm flesh with cold precision honed from a million years of pure instinct.
/> I bite down, take hold, and drink deep.
7
DAISY
I’m either coming or dying, I think as I’m lost in an ocean of black, a river of red, with ecstasy and pain shooting through me all at once. I feel Drachus’s teeth deep in my neck, feel him drinking from me with long, smooth gulps. My blood soaks my bra even as his thick semen rolls down my throbbing thighs in heavy beads.
I’m still suspended up against the high walls of his lair like I’m a bat, and I somehow manage to open my eyes and stare down at this depraved beast sucking on my neck like it’s the most natural thing in the fucking world, like it’s totally normal for sex with a stranger to end with drinking her blood.
“Why am I not dead?” I ask out loud, frowning as I prepare for the light-headedness that I know comes from blood-loss. Then I’ll pass out. And then I’ll die. Poof. Done. Wham. Bam. Thank you, Ma’am. Now you’re dead. Great way to not have to call you back in three days!
“You are dead,” Drachus whispers, raising his head as I stare at his eyes. They’re blood-red like the fiery planet of Aries the War God, and I gasp in disbelief when I see my own blood all over his long, glistening fangs. “You have to die in order to live forever, Lady Daisy. Remember, marriage is about give-and-take. When two hearts become one, each of us must—”
“Are you seriously trying to fucking explain away the deeply disturbing fact that you just chomped down on my neck and drank your fill of my blood?” I demand, my head surprisingly clear, my blood boiling because I’m hopping mad even though I should be dead or at the very least woozy.
“It is indeed a doozy, I will admit,” Drachus says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and grinning like the cat who ate the canary. Or the vampire who just sucked the life out of his bride. “But give it a few minutes for the darkness to reach your heart, Lady Daisy. The Turning will take a few days. It will feel like a fever at first. Then the thirst will come, but we will let it build until it is so great that your brain simply gives up and surrenders to what cannot be denied. Then you will hunt. You will feed. And you will become the Vampyre Queen who will bear my children, seed the Earth with a new breed of hybrid creatures, a race born of love, a race born of hearts joined in purity, of flesh bonded in warmth and grace, of—”
“Ohmygod, how long do I need to hear you talk like this?” I groan, blinking as I feel the spins come in strong and hard. But it’s not the kind of spinning that happens when you’re drunk or about to pass out. In fact, I’m wide awake as fuck. I just can’t see straight.
“For evermore,” he says, his voice sounding muffled, like he’s in a tunnel or something. Or maybe I’m in a tunnel. Or something. Or somewhere. Or . . . wait, what’s that?
“My memories,” Drachus says against my face as he cradles me tenderly against the cold walls. “The memories of the Vampyre Race. It is the first step in the Turning. And the final step in our union. The final act of our marriage.”
I go silent as Drachus’s memories slowly ooze into my consciousness, and I hang on to his powerful back as he rocks me in his arms up above the dark floor of his lair.
“Oh, Drachus,” I whisper as I see his long, dark past, the family he lost, the brothers and sisters slaughtered before his eyes. I see him as a young Vampyre, learning how to control his blood-lust so it does not control him. I know immediately that it is something I will need to learn how to do myself.
And then I will have to teach it to my children.
To our children.
I stay cradled in Drachus’s arms as I let his memories sink in, and it’s only after what seems like a long time that I blink and move against him.
“It’s all so dark,” I whisper. “There’s no happiness. No light. You live at night. Hunt at night. Feed at night. And there is nothing else, Drachus.”
“There is now,” he whispers back, and I feel a sudden warmth as I hear his heart beat within his mighty chest. I think back to how he claimed his heart has a different rhythm now, that his blood is warmer than the coldness that flowed through his veins for the past thousand years. Is that real or a metaphor? Is any of this real or just a metaphor?
“The universe itself is a series of metaphors of itself,” says Drachus, and I swear if I had fangs I’d rip his voicebox out so he couldn’t spout any more flowery nonsense. “And yes, you will get fangs when the Turning is complete. Little fangs. Don’t worry. They will be petite and dainty. But sharp, so do be careful when you are using your mouth to pleasure me down—”
He stops before finishing the sentence, but I don’t need to be a mind-reader quite yet to know where this pervert of a vampire was headed with that thought.
“Vampyre Queens don’t suck cock,” I mutter against his neck. “I think I saw a prophecy that says that.”
“Convenient prophecy, Lady Daisy,” he growls against my open neck-wound, licking a little blood from the vein like it’s totally there for his licking pleasure. “What does the prophecy say about submitting from the rear?”
“Wait, what?” I say, snapping to attention so quick it hurts. “Did you seriously just ask me if I would . . .”
“No one is asking, Lady Daisy,” Drachus whispers as he licks dried blood off his lips. “You forget that once the marriage ritual is done and you are claimed, you become mine. Also, I am from another age, a time where women submitted to their men with open hearts and even more open legs.”
“Firstly, I think you’re referring to more than just open hearts and open legs,” I say with a giggle that quickly turns to a gasp when I feel his dark touch along my naked rear crack. “Also, this lame-ass excuse of being from another age might let you get away with all those flowery metaphors, but it sure as hell isn’t going to . . . oh, motherfu—”
I can’t even finish the thought, let alone the sentence.
Because suddenly, somehow, Drachus has carried me up from the walls and pinned me face-down against the fucking ceiling! Or maybe it’s face up against the fucking ceiling!
“Speaking of flowery metaphors,” Drachus whispers as I pant. “I would like to see your rosebud. Examine your forget-me-not. Unfurl your dandelion.”
I’m giggling even as I claw at the ceiling as Drachus holds me there.
But then a moment later I realize he’s not holding me there . . .
I’m holding myself here!
I stare at my fingers, wondering if I’ve grown suction cups or feathered legs like a spider. But my fingers look mostly the same—maybe a little longer.
“What’s happening to me, Drachus?” I whisper as I feel him move along my bare back as I lay flat and upside down against the fucking ceiling of a freakin’ lair! “How is this even possible?”
“This is only the beginning, my Vampyre Queen,” he whispers against the small of my back. Soon I feel his warm breath against my bare bum, and then my eyes roll up in my head when he parts my rear cheeks and snakes his tongue right inside, licking me to a dark orgasm that makes me howl.
And then he's inside me with that beast of a cock, taking me like he owns me, ramming deep into my asshole, popping open my virgin rosebud, right into my little forget-me-not, unfurling my dandelion, claiming my carnation, messing up my metaphors . . .
But messing up my metaphors in the most magnificently majestically magical way.
And maybe that’s what marriage is all about, what two hearts coming together is all about:
Messing up those metaphors.
Mixing that blood.
And being pressed up against the ceiling of a vampire’s lair, being taken in the rosebud by a thousand-year old creature with the smooth skin of a soap-model.
So as the blood-lust seeps into my soul and my dainty feminine fangs grow as Drachus’s seed takes root in my womb, there’s only one thing left to say:
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Always and forever.
∞
EPILOGUE
ONE THOUSAND YEARS LATER
DRACHUS
“So I thought becoming a vampire would guarantee not just eternal life but everlasting skinniness,” my curvy Vampyre Queen says as she examines her magnificently marvelous arse in the ancient magic mirror that’s lined with jewels from the farthest reaches of the planet and infused with a spell that allows us to see our own reflections.
I lean back on my hand-crafted throne and casually place our youngest children—twins named Dina and Dara—on my broad chest. They dig their strong claws into Daddy, and I raise an eyebrow at them in grudging approval that they’re able to find their balance even though Daisy gave birth to them just a week ago.
“You have not aged for a thousand years, and the skin on your rump is smooth and tight even after delivering six hundred and forty two beautiful, healthy, powerful Vampyre-Human babies that have been spreading their own seeds and roots across the Earth just like the prophecy claimed,” I growl at her as I reach out a long, sharp claw and deftly slice through her black silk gown from behind. I groan when the smooth skin of her back is exposed, and my cock stiffens when I see her healthy love-handles that still have the marks I left when I took her deep and hard just before sunrise this morning. “And yet you complain? Is there no satisfying you?”
She leans slightly to her left so I can see the reflection of her pretty round face that has aged in the most beautifully elegant way. She has no wrinkles or spots, no blemishes or lines. But you can see a thousand years of experience in those big brown eyes that flash with wisdom that was hard-won, knowledge for which she paid a price, memories that are not all unicorns and rainbows, not all music and laughter.
Vampire's Curvy Valentine Page 5