Captive Fantasy

by L. Rosario

  Sera shoved the door open a little further and gasped. The interior was extraordinary; all dark, paneled walls and rich, sumptuous fabrics of silver and black. The bed dominated the room, but her gaze slid by it to focus on what sat beside it. A man. A mortal man, if the racing heart and sharp aroma of blood was any indication. He smiled and got to his feet to show off over six feet of masculine perfection. Where the devil were his clothes?

  Sera rounded on Constantine and caught him off guard before he could erase his amused expression. “What the hell is that?” She pointed over her shoulder.

  "I think it's meant to be your midnight snack.” His eyes twinkled as they rested on her face. “I believe I'll leave you to it."

  Sera clasped Constantine's hand to prevent him from leaving her. “I can't drink from him,” she said in a panic. “You know that."

  With little effort, Constantine slid his hand free and patted her on the cheek. “Just pretend he's Valentino, and we both know you'll do fine.” He left her without looking back.

  "I can bleed into a cup, if you'd prefer that?” her naked “meal” kindly offered.

  Sera closed her eyes and counted to ten. This was the reason she wanted to live separately from a coven. Certain behavior was just expected. Behavior she didn't wish to partake in. Behavior that actually made her palms sweat and her stomach twist into knots. If it was expected of her to partake in this “snack,” would it be viewed as an insult if she refused?

  "Mistress?"

  Her eyes flew open, and she turned back to face the room. “Don't you dare call me that,” she snapped.

  The man appeared startled, then nodded and clasped his hands behind his back. He looked like a cadet awaiting orders. But he was naked, impressively so, she noted. Nonetheless, given the tawny hair sprinkling his broad chest and covering his muscular thighs, she'd never be able to pretend he was Valentino. What was Constantine thinking to suggest such a ludicrous thing?

  She met the man's expectant gaze. “I don't need you tonight, so you can go."

  His frown accentuated the width of his mouth. “I was told to provide you with a meal, mis—ma'am."

  Sera sighed and finally stepped into the room. She left the door open. “Fine, but I won't bite you."

  "I offered to bleed into a cup."

  She waved a hand and shot a weary gaze toward the bed. The sooner this was over, the better. “Do whatever, but don't do it in front of me."

  With a nod, he headed toward a door tucked into the wall. Bathroom, maybe? He was only gone for a few moments, but it was long enough for her to kick off her shoes and stretch out on the really soft mattress. What heaven. The smell of blood pulled her attention to the side of the bed, eye level with her “snack's” package. While she stared, he grew hard.

  "I'll fulfill any hunger you have,” he offered.

  Sera yanked her gaze away and sat up to reach for the plastic cup full of fresh blood. The strong smell coated the inside of her nose and coaxed saliva to the tip of her tongue. The first sip felt warm and satisfying sliding down her throat, and without too much hesitation, she drank the rest.

  Whoever he was, he was yummy.

  She handed the cup back with a smile. “Thank you, now you may leave."

  He set the cup on the nightstand and crossed his arms. “What about sex?"

  Were all the mortals here this blunt? She struggled to keep her gaze from drifting downward. “I don't need sex.” Not that she didn't want it, but just not from him.

  Instead of doing what she hoped he'd do, which was leave, he uncrossed his arms and reached down to trail a finger across her shoulder. “You seem tense. I could give you a massage?” His other fingers joined the first, and he squeezed the tight muscle in the crook of her neck.

  It felt good.

  Sera almost sighed with pleasure. “It's okay, really. I think I just need to rest.” Valentino's visit had preempted her normal routine, and the trip here had been agonizingly long and unbearable. She was beginning to feel the effects. Her “snack” kept rubbing her shoulder and finally she did moan and let her eyes drift shut. “Feels good,” she mumbled.

  "It'll feel better in a moment.” That was all the warning offered before her hoodie was tugged up and over her head. His hands gripped her muscles again before she could protest the liberty he'd decided to take. “Just relax."

  Sera managed to do just that until the mattress buckled under extra weight. She opened her eyes and discovered her “snack” kneeling on the bed next her hip. “No.” She reached up and took his hands from her shoulders. “I told you I didn't need sex."

  "I disagree, but it's not my place to force the issue.” He stood back up, doing nothing to hide the hardened length of his penis from her. In fact, he looked mighty proud. “I'll leave you alone and take care of this,” he waved toward his erection, “where it might be more welcome."

  No doubt there were many such places inside this nest of vampires.

  Sera nodded and reached for her hoodie. Her “snack” left the room while she struggled to pull the shirt back over her head. When she emerged, the room was blessedly empty. With a sigh, she lay down and stared up at the ceiling. Thoughts she didn't want intruded before she could succumb to sleep.

  Had Valentino entertained Jennifer? Was he resting up now to do so again tonight? Or would it be a different woman entirely? Did some nights bring more than one? How many women would it take before he forgot her?

  With a fierce growl, she rolled onto her side and buried her face in the pillow. None of this mattered. She didn't care what Valentino was doing, or with whom. For them it was over.

  She punched the pillow. “Fuck.” Why did her body have to crave him so damn much? And not just his blood. Oh no, her vagina wanted his cock. She wanted him hard and deep inside her. She wanted to feel the tip of him crashing into the upper reaches of her womb. She wanted ... she wanted ... she wanted to stop thinking about him!

  Sera punched the pillow again, then rolled onto her back. All of a sudden her jeans were too confining, and she knew sleep would fail to come until she was more comfortable. She didn't know if her duffel bag was somewhere in the room, so she simply rolled off the bed, stripped naked, and then stretched back out on top of the cool satin comforter. Her body, already wound tighter than a damn violin string, reacted violently to the feel of the lush fabric.

  Her back arched, her feet slid toward her ass, and to her horror, her knees parted. Oh God, she hadn't masturbated in years, but the urge to do so now was too strong to ignore. If she were at home, she might even seek out the dildo Becca had bought for her a few Christmases ago. The atrociously large penis had never left its box, nor had the desire to take it out ever arisen. Until now. If it were in her hand, she'd rub it between her legs and pretend it was Valentino.

  Sera stifled a moan and twisted the comforter in her fingers. Maybe the feeling would pass if she ignored it? She needed to think of something non sexual. Jesus, what? Every time she closed her eyes, she conjured the image of Valentino standing in her bedroom door dressed in nothing but one of her bath towels. The image took on the dimension of a fuzzy dream, and she watched the towel drift to the floor.

  He was aroused, and his eyes smoldered as he headed toward the bed.

  "Is this what you want, Sera?” He gripped his penis and gave it a good long stroke.

  Sera nodded, unable to find her voice. Her hips shifted on the bed, and she pressed her knees wider apart.

  He halted at the foot of the bed, locked his gaze on hers and continued to idly stroke his erection. Up and down. Up and down. It was rather maddening to watch.

  "You have to tell me what you want."

  Oh God, she didn't want to play this game. She just wanted him to fuck her.

  He smiled as if able to read her mind. Hell, it was a dream, maybe he could. In that case; she envisioned him crawling onto the mattress to claim her with his mouth, then his fingers, and finally his cock. Her moan shattered the silence of the room and nearly pulled
her out of the fantasy.

  A finger stroked between the folds of her sex and she drew in a sharp breath. “Yessss...” He continued to touch her, first with just one finger, then eventually with his entire hand. His palm felt hot despite the warm arousal spreading through her and she lifted her hips off the bed to press against the cup of his hand. His chuckle shivered down her spine and she arched higher.

  "Inside,” she begged.

  Abruptly he shoved two fingers deep inside her, and she bit back a scream. “Yessss...” she hissed again. Oh yes. So good.

  Trapped between her tight, vaginal muscles, his fingers danced and probed until the room filled with the loud sound of her gasps. If she came now, she feared the fantasy would end, and she wasn't ready to say goodbye to Valentino again.

  "Slower,” she whispered, and the pace of his fingers obeyed.

  In and out they moved, until she was dizzy with the feeling. The room tilted behind her tight eyelids and her skin pulled taut over her body. Oh no. In the hopes that some pain might stave off the building climax, she dug her fangs into her bottom lip, but the taste of blood only managed to shove her over the precipice.

  The room filled with the tangy aroma of her cum as she convulsed on top of the bed and saturated the palm of her hand.

  "Bloody hell, Seraphina, you've made me ejaculate inside my pants."

  She ripped her hand from between her legs and shot a frenzied glance toward the sound of Constantine's voice. He stood in the doorway looking back at her. Despite the words, he didn't seem too upset. With a horrified cry, she fumbled around for the comforter and managed to slither between it and the cool sheets. Oh my God, that didn't just happen. She did not just masturbate in front of Constantine.

  But clearly she had.

  His smug expression told her he'd never let her forget it either. “No need to turn all bashful, it was really quite the show.” He stepped inside and closed the door. “Next time, you should close the door, lest you entertain someone other than me. Wouldn't want one of the many mortals roaming about to get the wrong idea."

  Sera pulled the comforter over her head. “Go away."

  Constantine laughed in response, and she heard him coming closer to the bed. “We need to talk, Seraphina.” His voice was suddenly very serious.

  She peeked over the edge of the blanket. “It can wait."

  He shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed. “No, I'm afraid it really can't.” There was something hovering on the edge of his tone that forced her to sit up and give a little nod. “It's about Valentino."

  Sera's lungs ceased up. “Wh-what about him?"

  Before answering, Constantine took her hand and laced their fingers together. He lowered his gaze from hers and his whole demeanor turned really damn scary. “He's not exactly human."

  What?

  The word screamed in Sera's head, but her throat closed around it, leaving her to stare in mute shock at Constantine's profile.

  He lifted his gaze and stroked the top of her hand. “The details are sketchy, but it seems he is some sort of experimental clone designed to provide heightened sexual pleasure. The blood in his veins is synthetic, but not the same as what you choose to put in your fridge. The master believes biting him might have put you at risk."

  Sera shook her head, unable to move past the part about Valentino being a clone of some sort. He wasn't real? He wasn't human?

  "To be safe, he suggested you undergo a full transfusion, and it only makes sense that I act as the donor."

  Transfusion. Donor. The words broke through Sera's stunned disbelief one at a time. She blinked twice, then focused on Constantine's black eyes. “What did you say?"

  He leaned toward her and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “It's a lot to take in, and you need to rest.” He released her and placed her hand in her lap. “We'll talk this evening."

  "Wait?” She called after him, but he merely tossed a tight grin over his shoulder before leaving her. For a long time she stayed frozen in place, staring at the door and trying to process the insanity of Constantine's words.

  A clone? Not human?

  This reeked of things a little too sci-fi for even a vampire to comprehend. How could Valentino not be human? He felt normal. He looked normal. Okay, maybe he looked a little better than normal, and he had even tasted better than normal. All right, damnit, he felt better than normal too, but that didn't mean he wasn't human.

  Sera collapsed onto the pillow, no longer able to fight off the grasping embrace of sleep, and unwilling to ponder what Constantine had said a moment longer. Tonight, they would talk again, and of course he'd tell her she had misunderstood him.

  Valentino was all human male. He had to be.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Raphael stared at Valentino as if he'd lost his mind. The reaction wasn't a surprise. “You're crazy if you actually think you can escape."

  "I have to try.” Valentino shoved the covers to his waist and sat up. Dizziness greeted the action, and he drew a deep breath and waited for it to pass. It must be almost time for another one of Dr. Reynolds’ injections. “I thought I could count on you to help me."

  Raphael raked a hand through his long blond hair and shook his head. “I'm your friend, Val, but I can't help you commit suicide."

  "I'll be dead in a few days anyway."

  There was no good way to dispute that, and they both knew it. Raphael scowled. “This is insane."

  "I just need to get out and find Sera.” There was no need to watch what he said to Raphael. Thanks to Valentino's inability to entertain clients, the doctor had ordered all the cameras and microphones in the room turned off.

  "I think she'll be able to save me.” He'd told Raphael about Sera being a vampire and about the dream he'd had where she had offered to make him one as well. To say that his friend had responded to both bits of information skeptically would be a gross understatement.

  In fact, his disbelief was still stamped on his face. “You are risking a lot because of some loony dream. I don't like it."

  Valentino rolled his eyes and shoved his hair off the side of his neck. “You've seen the bites, you've heard Dr. Reynolds’ theory, so you know I'm telling you the truth about her."

  Raphael stared at the marks still visible but didn't comment. “If I agree to help you, what do you need me to do?"

  Relief nearly made Valentino collapse onto the pillows. “Thank you."

  Raphael shook his head. “I didn't say I was going to help yet."

  A slight obstacle in Valentino's opinion. “We both know you will. Now listen,” he went on before his friend could say more. “I'm thinking it would be easier to sneak out during hours of operation. Friday is the busiest night, so it would make sense to go for it then."

  "That's the day before."

  The words were chilling. Valentino nodded. “Yeah, the day before the end, you might say. If I fail, it's over.” Silence followed the grim pronouncement.

  Raphael's firm voice broke through the mounting tension. “Whatever you need, I'll do it."

  A plan, albeit a rather wobbly one, was hatched. Raphael looked doubtful as he headed for the door. “What if Tabby doesn't come Friday night? You've ignored her twice, after all. Maybe she won't bother to try again?"

  Valentino knew Tabby a lot better than Raphael. She'd come, and she'd gladly step right into his plan without even realizing what she was a part of. “I'll worry about Tabby; you concentrate on getting a healthy supply of whatever injection Dr. Reynolds has been giving me. I won't get too far without it, I'm afraid."

  "I'll do my best."

  Valentino prayed that Raphael's best would be good enough.

  * * * *

  The next morning made Valentino realize he wouldn't need his escape plan to work. Why? Because he was dying.

  He curled onto his side with a moan of raw agony. His insides were on fire. No, that wasn't severe enough. His insides were clawing their way out. The pain tearing through his abdomen brought tears to
his eyes. What the hell was going on? On top of the battle waging through his lower half, his heart seemed as if it had to fight to beat. The pounding rhythm in his ears faltered more than once, and he held his breath, afraid it would never start up again. It did, but so slowly, he barely felt or heard it.

  The door clicked open, and Dr. Reynolds’ voice broke into Valentino's misery. “Good morning, CF19. It's about time for your—what the hell is wrong?"

  Valentino shook his head and let another moan shudder through him. If this—whatever it was—went on for much longer, he'd beg the doctor to kill him today. Now.

  Dr. Reynolds put a hand to his forehead. “You're like a block of ice.” His touch drifted over the curve of Valentino's bare shoulder. “My God, your body temperature must be half what's normal. Did you ingest something?"

  Again, Valentino merely shook his head. He pressed his fingers below his naval, but the churning pain didn't ease. It actually felt as if his stomach was shrinking. His heart faltered again, and he caught his breath. He waited.

  "What is it?” Dr. Reynolds’ demanded. “Tell me what you are feeling?"

  "C-can't h-hear ... h-heart."

  The bed dipped as Dr. Reynolds’ leaned closer. “What did you say?” Before Valentino could answer, the cold press of a stethoscope touched his chest. Only it wasn't as cold as it should be. In fact, it seemed hot. “My God,” the doctor breathed.

  Valentino managed to slit one eye open. He wished he hadn't when he saw the doctor's pinched expression. Their gazes met, and Valentino silently begged for some sort of explanation.

  Dr. Reynolds pulled the stethoscope away and reached for Valentino's wrist. He measured his pulse for a few moments, then eased him onto his back to poke at his abdomen. Valentino winced at the pain of each touch, surprised by the doctor's mumbled apology. The examination continued for several more minutes.

  "I'll need to take blood,” Dr. Reynolds announced. “As soon as possible."

  Valentino forced his head off the pillow and his eyes to open. “Why?” The word was weak but at least he hadn't stuttered.