PrimEVAl Sacrifice

by J H Spade

  I take this in and wonder about what exactly we are dealing with.

  He begins to supply some answers, so I reach for a towel right by my clothes and cover enough of the front of my body with it when he says, “I believed you wouldn't give into your feelings for me, if you thought you were younger. As taboo as it is, I wouldn't have touched you if you held up your boundaries.”

  “What am I? A vampire?” I bring myself to ask him.

  “No. Never.” He hastily objects like it is the worst outcome.

  “What then?”

  “You're not completely wrong. I found you as you were fighting off the transition. So, think of it as a virus working its way through your bloodstream. Your body was good at fighting the change, mutating your cells into something in between. You're human, but only if you stay with me as I help your body in its natural process of fighting the disease, and I continue to inject you with an inhibitor antivirus designed to break the virus down. If you feed, you are more likely to complete the change every time you give into the hunger while risking your bond. . . .” he has a hard time getting this out, so I look into his eyes and see the pain reflected in their glossy steel depths.

  With some effort he continues, “You will strengthen the bond between you that I've almost severed completely. He will find you. You should know he compelled you to kill me, so I guess I should thank him because this is how we found each other.”

  I immediately gasp, the hand holding the gun shaking, making me want to toss it across the room.

  He seems unable to stop now that he’s letting it all slip out–almost like he's sharing a burden he's had to carry alone for too long. I realize it must have been difficult to fight me while he loved me. “It's alright. You fought against it, giving me an advantage over you. As you are now, you have moments with spurts of immortal strength, while, on the other hand, the antivirus works, weakening you. It's unstable and sporadic. We don't know when they will show themselves–your two halves; the vampire and the human girl you are. You are the first of your kind, so there's been very little I could find in underground medical journals.”

  He looks more controlled now. This talk of my condition making concern rule out need.

  “You look stunned. Do you need me to stop? Have you had enough? Join me in the shower?” he asks, a small reassuring smile on his lips.

  “How old am I?” I quickly add in.

  “Ahh, the question you can't let go of. This is when things get a little tricky, and it's hard to say. I met you when you were nineteen, we spent about a year together, but then he took you into his realm,” he says, looking at me after a pause, testing if I’m willing to hear everything out or think him as crazy as I feel. “Well, at least you're being really open-minded which I didn't expect. I can't tell how much time passed while he had you in his realm since I've never found how to get there . . . I found you once you made it out. Time is inconsistent from realm to realm. One day here can be a year on another plane. I brought you here because time moved backwards giving me the opportunity to reverse your disease.”

  “Estimate!” I demand, sounding panicked, afraid of being too young while inwardly praying.

  “Emma, I would guess anywhere from eighteen to twenty-two. It doesn't matter, though, because age is out of the equation.”

  “That's a relief.” I say letting out a heavy breath after finally getting to the root of it.

  “It's not, not really, because I still can't touch you. I plan to revert you back to fully human, so you can't give into whatever hunger is calling inside of you, and sex will only heighten its urge. I won't touch you until he's dead.”

  Not if I get to him first, I think, but keep it to myself. “So, where does that leave us. What now?” I ask, pointedly looking down at his erection.

  “We finish our shower,” he says, temptation on his soft, supple lips.

  But then, I remembered my impulse to keep him safe and stay away from him while I was in and out of it these past few weeks, and now I understand why.

  Apologetically, I say, “No, I'll be fine. I can feel it’s true. And . . . well, I’m sorry for getting you worked up.” Stepping back, I smile a little bit sad, thinking maybe I’m freaking out a little because I wanted to run and cry. “And don't try anything. We wouldn't want my finger to slip on the trigger.” My voice is a throaty whisper as my inner turmoil is warring between my need for him as I hesitantly continue skimming him with my eyes. He’s too much to look forward to in his form-fitting navy blue cotton briefs. I want a family with this man.

  No matter how much I try, I can't make my hands reach for my clothes and walk away from him. Then, I’m confronted with the possibility of letting go to my need and making love to him one last time. I’m struggling with the thought that maybe we never got the chance, and I should definitely take him up on that shower if this is true. My mind runs through the risk that could pose of getting caught by him. He lets out a breathy laugh, my eyes jump up to his face from lovingly tracing every fluid movement of his abs as he’s coiled and ready to spring after me, following the slight shift of his hands as he opens them ready to grip me, my eyes narrow in warning. I continue to watch him, roaming over his thighs and return my gaze to the bigger than I anticipated form of his thick bulge detailed by the soft cotton. He's letting me, too, unabashedly letting me strip him down with my mind. Letting me savor him as his body eases comfortably back on his heels. He thinks he can keep me if I enjoy his body to some degree. I think he may be on to something here. A breakthrough. I can't help but smile, revealing I'm on to him and meant to say something along those lines. Either I'd lost my speech, or I'd forgotten how to use it [14][15]because all I do is lick my lips in my need to press them against him.

  I understand the tables were turned, and he was now using his body against me.

  Only he wouldn't follow through, this was nothing but a trap. Not willing to lose ground, I rip my gaze from him as he reaches a hand over his hard-on and slides his hips forward.

  I could die from the urge to throw caution to the wind, wishing I could take hold of his wrist and lead him to my bed. Only, I can't jeopardize him, who means everything to me. I hold my towel down with my elbow and reach over, grabbing the hand monitor. “Teach me how to use it in a nutshell.”

  “Come closer, it hurts not to touch you. I’ve been hurting for weeks. And, I'm afraid you'll need to get closer for me to teach you,” he says, ready on the balls of his bare feet again.

  “Don't come any closer, or I will shoot. You'd have a harder time following me with a blown knee cap. Make no mistake, I'm getting out of here without you.”

  “You can't walk out of this bathroom with the way your room is wired. If you do, the hidden sensors will pick up on my gun in your hand, and the room will be flooded with soldiers who are on standby. Do you really want to jeopardize so many lives?”

  He is complicating everything with logistics. I need to know if I shoot him and jump out the window, could I make it out alive?

  “One way or another you're staying here with me, so don't make this any harder than it needs to be, Emma. No one can take aim at me and walk away. I've killed for lesser offenses.”

  “I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to frighten me into obeying you, but it won't work. How do you plan on stopping me, hmm?” I ask, knowing I'm right.

  Then, I remember something.

  “What exactly were you planning on doing to me when you were about to take off your pants and jump into the shower with me? You said so yourself, you won't touch me?”

  “Finish cleaning you up, so I can finally take you to bed and get some much needed sleep.”

  “Oh,” I say, the disappearance of fear replaced by interest is clearly discernible in my voice, which surprises me since I had been terribly afraid at the time. Seems I like living on the edge when it comes to him.

  “How does it work?” Motioning with my head towards the monitor.

  “You need my thumbprint, come closer and
I'll press in, get you access, and lessen security,” he says, taking a step toward me. Then another.

  I see the surprise shining in his eyes when I turn the barrel of the gun on myself. “I flatlined once before, you brought me back. How were you monitoring me if I had ripped off all of the cables?”

  “I don't want you hurt. I can only bring you back by feeding you my blood, and you know what will happen if I continue to do that! Stop this, it's gone far enough!” he says, raising his hands in a show of surrender.

  “How?!” I insist.

  “You have a chip inserted in you that alerts me to your vitals. It's connected to my hand monitor and is run from a satellite.”

  “Tracking? You can track me!”

  “I can track you many different ways.”

  “In your pants,” he arches an eyebrow at my suggestion. I shake my head in feigned disapproval at where his mind jumped to, “There's always a syringe in there. I need you to get it out and roll it to me on the floor.”

  He doesn't ask how I know this, but I've felt the prick of it enough times to remember him reaching for something to then feel it affecting me when I'm having a nervous breakdown.

  He simply follows my orders and surprises me by saying, “Don't go. Give me another month, and then you can decide what you want to do.”

  This new option he gives me, makes me bring down his weapon because I'm feeling all kinds of defeat.

  I want more time with him.

  I want to think love is enough to obliterate all the evil that's following me.

  He goes down to his knees and does as I've instructed. I place the monitor back on the counter and follow him down, taking the syringe into my hand as it rolls all the way in.

  He sees an opportunity and latches on.

  He’s a blur of skin. Too quickly for my eyes to catch his movements, he's on me, and I'm flat on my back on the bathroom floor with my arms high above my head, his heavy weight pushing his hips into the warm cocoon of my thighs.

  Drowning in a heavy wave of desire for him, I feel myself go limp with lust. Momentarily, taking him in. He easily takes the gun and syringe out of my hands, and thrusts them away, the strength behind his motion pistoning his hips deeper into where I feel like I’m on fire.

  My eyes and thighs squeeze in delirious ecstasy. Gods, he can't feel this good by simply laying over me, I think.

  His voice turns feral, “Promise me one month, Emma. You're out of choices, but I'm giving them to you because I don't want to fight.”

  His skin is on fire over mine, and I gasp as I push my hips up, wondering if I'm fighting for control or giving myself to him.

  His head falls on my chest as the towel is bunched up over my stomach between us. He presses his lips to the tops of my breasts, leaving me breathless and yearning.

  A moan tears free from me, and he arruptly stands, looking down on me. He begins lowering his briefs, and dazedly, I eat up his fluid movements.

  If he tries to have me now, I know I won't lift a finger to stop him.

  My voice is foreign to me when I have to ask. “Wait, what do you think you're doing?”

  “It's my turn to get clean. Do you want to watch? I might even let you touch me.”

  I have no words as his heavy cock springs free, taking my breath at the sight of him, and I continue to watch as he turns, heading for the shower. He’s incredibly endowed, there's no way he can fit inside me.

  Over his shoulder, he says, “Are you coming yet?” And it sounds more like a direct order as I shakily move to stand.

  Like a lost puppy, I follow him. The towel and weapons have been forgotten on the floor, right along with my common sense. Warily, I look up at him as he's expectantly holding the shower door open for me, and I try to calm the rapid flutter of my trapped heart.

  Sinking into his eyes, I realize he's the only one who can set it free.

  Chapter _

  Flames Lick My Skin

  Darius is on me the second I clear the shower’s entrance. He closes the door and reaches for me, grabbing a hold of my wrists in an embrace that leaves my arms crossed at my waist, expertly pulling me up against him while connecting me[16][17] to his body. Behind me, his naked body molds itself to mine as he presses me forward. I can feel his tantalizing heat, so strong and unyielding, digging his erection into my lower back. Breathless, I swallow down the little whimpers, trying to make their way out of my lips. Sounding like he means business, he dips his head to murmur a command in my ear, “Go ahead, I want you up against the wall.” It takes me fifteen torturous steps to reach the marble wall. Luxury and refined opulence is apparent in the gold flecks and smooth cream surface of the large space.

  Holding me prisoner while he leads me, he roughly adds, “Don't look at me and don't turn around.”

  Obediently, I place my cheek against the warm wall. My lips open, pulling shallow unsteady breaths into my lungs when he forcibly brings my hands over my head and unites both of my wrists into one firm grip while his body imprisons mine. Nine shiny shower heads are shooting liquid heat against us from all directions. My eyes drift shut, my head tips back, and I beg, “What are you going to do to me?”

  Doing damage like only he can, his large hand takes a rough hold of my hip bone, his mouth descends, biting my earlobe and drawing me closer still.

  He stops time with every one of his caresses. This is who he is. What he does. I recognize this incessant yearning that doesn't let up and only gets worse the closer we are to one another. It must have been this way since the first time I met him. His warm breath snakes over me, shatters me to pieces as shivers break loose on my skin, and he answers, “What you’ve been begging me for. Sin on your skin.”

  I've died, feeling paradise in the smooth glide of his lips over the length of my neck. “Keep your eyes closed,” he orders against my nape, taking a hold of himself, soaking me up inside with each insistent touch of his cock on my burning flesh.

  “I don't think I can continue to stand,” I say, feeling delirious.

  “But you will, I'll show you.” He begins to glide, thrusting the swollen tip of his erection down my lower spine, pulling up between my butt cheeks he slips in an excruciating caress while I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from screaming in need. Too far gone, I'm wasted, moaning, “Yes, yes! More . . . please!”

  “Shhh, if you keep up with those delicious little cries, I won't be able to stop myself from fucking you. I've wanted to longer than you’ll ever know.”

  I whimper and bite my bottom lip because I want to beg him to put me out of my misery, cover all the bases in one go and slide home.

  Earlier tonight, with that one hungry look into each other's eyes while he sat on my bed, I felt I'd taken a foul ball to the head. The heated expression reflected in his stare as he lovingly searched my face, had been enough. In trying to disarm him, he disarmed me. And it had all escalated from his smoldering, knowing look the moment our eyes met. This night wasn't meant to end any other way.

  He begins to push closer to my center; softening his voice, he rasps, “I've been dying, craving to feel your tight pussy squeeze and convulse around me.” Grunting in evident pain, he continues, “I'll have to keep waiting another lifetime for it. But in the meantime, I'll love all the ways I plan on not fucking you, to cover my dick with your juices. Have you soaking me, while I fist my cock.”

  Jesus, I would have had a better chance at escaping if I'd never opened my eyes–left the bandages covering them, and hadn't met his gaze. But I'm no fool–luck, it seems, is never on my side.

  I feel him reaching over as he takes some soap and begins to rub the silky suds over my back on a downward path. His hand strokes fire on my skin. But worse still, is my need to drink him because he’s in my blood. I've tasted him. He admitted as much, and now I can't stop wanting this chemical romance and to feel the high I can get from his blood. I want all of it. I can't help myself when it comes to him. I feel it in every inhalation of his scent I draw into my lungs,
giving deep roots to base, dark desires.

  There's a wild animal newly awakened inside me as he cups my breast, doing soapy circles over my beaded nipple, with no chains in sight, yet I can't help feeling enslaved by our need. I want what is happening between us. I want him to strip me of my choices. Because in my gut, I feel I've had to make the hardest decisions to be here, feeling his skin torturing mine with not even a breath of separation between us. To burn now as I am, lifting my ass against him expectantly. On a silent prayer, I beg, “Don't stop, do me raw[18][19], until there is nothing left of us.” trying to shake out of his grip. It only brings me closer to my orgasm, feeling him controlling me by smacking his hard body against me in those hidden, tender areas. I'll send my condolences to his good intentions when he loses control.

  He won't be able to hold back for long.

  Proving me right, he takes a fisted handful of my hair and pulls, “Easy, baby, you don't want me to slip on the trigger,” he grits out, laughing and sounding both amused and on the brink of pain.

  But I do, I want to make a banquette out of his exquisite body, drink him in all ways that lead to heaven and hell with no boundaries in between. We can build a bridge and have the best of both worlds.

  I open my eyes and see we are surrounded by blue light. Gasping from the octane[20][21][22] the light creates, ripples of pleasure break out, ricocheting through me as I scream and sink against him. Dazed I think, What is up with this neon light? Is it coming from a new-age form of healing heat lamp?

  His hold tightens around my wrists over my head when I begin shaking. “Yeah, that's right Emma. I own your soul, and you’re going to let yourself go. I'm going to show you how many times I can make you come. Selfishly, you'll take every rush my lips squeeze out of you.” His hand lifts from roaming over me to capture my hands, pulling them tighter.

  Once he knows I'm secure again, he continues roaming me with desperate roughness. Sucking two fingers in and out of his lips, he traces an unsteady path over my shivering stomach, stopping over my clit. He begins to teasingly circle, adding more pressure every few seconds to my pulsing center. Telling me without words that he knows me well, because this hidden place has his name written all over it from how quickly he’s found its magic.