Prior Engagements
Page 30
I straddled his slim hips and took him in hand, seating myself on him and feeling the thick length of him slide into me. When I was as full as I was going to get, I planted my hands firmly on the bed, and started to move, feeling him warm within my body, losing the room-temperature coolness that he always had at the start. I had my eyes closed to start with, concentrating on getting him into position against my prostate, because I knew that as soon as he came, it would be game over, and I wanted to get off this time, before he got bored.
I opened my eyes a little to see if he was close. Desane always looked the same during sex, long pale fingers resting on his concave stomach, eyes closed and his head tipped back slightly. Sometimes, I wished he’d look at me, or touch me. I closed my hand over my own cock, giving short quick jerks to the head and then longer strokes to tease myself.
Desane gave a sigh, half tired, half bored, and I felt him pulse inside me, wet come making me slick. I was so close, almost there, when he opened his eyes and sat up, dislodging me into a sprawl across the bed. While I pushed myself upright, Desane leant over me and pulled my head to one side. His teeth were like needles pushing into my skin, a slight burn followed by the pulsing of the bruised flesh that protested being abused again. Both rows of teeth sliced into me, and he drank my blood the same way he’d fucked me, with perfunctory carelessness.
I closed my eyes, and felt my erection flag and go turn limp in the chill of the room.
When he’d had enough Desane got up off of me and went to the door. Both steel door slid open for him at the entering of a code, and he walked out of the room, naked, and past his guards, on the way to his dressing room, where he would put on his night clothes and get on with his life. Look over his stock reports, spend his money, and whatever else vamps did with their time.
I picked myself up and found my clothes, scrambling into them. Then I went to the first-aid stuff and found a sticky bandage for my neck. I knew the guards could see me through the open doors, and I knew what they thought of me, what all the staff thought, and why they didn’t talk to me.
I wished that I knew how to tell them how fucking Desane was the only thing I had. How other than that, all I did was wait for my one job to come around again, day after day. I wished that they could see what my life was like.
Actually, if I wished for anything. I wished that someone, anyone, would talk to me.
I hadn’t heard from my family in six years.
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