by May Sage
He couldn’t. Letting her have her fun now would indubitably prove that Fay’s arrival meant nothing – besides, he really needed the release.
Agnes was good at sucking; he knew that for a fact as he’d sporadically enjoyed her technique for a decade. Yet, today, it just wasn’t working for him, however deep she took him.
He could see her frustration after fifteen minutes. He didn’t always come that quickly, but normally, he showed more enthusiasm, at least. Today, he was just frowning, looking down at her as she dribbled around the base of his cock, and he felt like yawning.
Enough of that; he had other things to do. He pulled her up on her feet, and turned her over, bending her on his desk before taking his heavy length in his hand. His two quick strokes felt ten times better than her throat had.
He took a rubber from the first draw on his mahogany desk, put it on, before pounding her so hard the heavy piece of furniture was against the window when he was done.
She came three times.
When William resolved to put his dick back in his pants, he was still hard.
And blue balled, too.
Fay was immediately intimidated by the gorgeous human girl William introduced as Agnes. She was tall, fair, pristine, and domineering; her opposite.
Her piercing eyes roamed over her, assessing her expertly, before hazarding:
“30-26-36, B cup, around five foot two?”
Hell, she was good. The last time Fay had been at liberty to buy a bra, she’d been a 30B and she hadn’t changed much in three years. The rest, she wasn’t sure about, but it did sound likely.
“I think so.”
“Perfect. I do love a challenge,” she announced with the fakest smile, before turning to William. “I’ll get her back to you in one piece before dawn.”
Oh god. It wasn’t even nine – the prospect of spending that many hours with the cold bombshell send shivers down her spine.
“Midnight latest,” he amended. “And Jessica is going with you to ensure you both stay in one piece.”
Her expression never slipped, but Fay could tell: Agnes was not happy about that. Suddenly, whoever that Jessica was, she was eager to have her around.
Her eyes bulged when the stunning ebony vampire who’d touched her the previous night was waiting for them in the lobby of the modern building.
They say you should be careful what you wish for…
Looking back over the various abysmally unfortunate decisions he’d made over the course of the last half an hour, William decided that he was, in fact, better off gone until he worked his new obsession out of his system.
He liked to observe and when needed, council his new rescues. Eventually, they hit rock bottom; they cried, screamed, and made scenes. His presence had been fundamental on those occasions. He was the rational, experienced big brother who could pat their back and tell them things would be alright eventually.
But he knew he couldn’t hope to remain detached and lucid around her. She’d just reacted like every single ex-slave he’d freed, and instead of taking it in stride, he had chewed her up, called her names, before fucking a slut to stroke his ego.
It was time to accept what Jess, Zeva, and Mark had seen.
She was just his type and he wanted her so much it was affecting his sanity. He couldn't be reasonable and wait for her to be stronger. His mind understood it was necessary, but another part of him took over when she was in the room; a part that needed her now and just couldn't understand why she was so distant.
A simple, straightforward part of him that had never tried to dominate him before.
“Don't ignore it,” his old friend had told him, many, many years ago. “It might not affect you now, but some day, it will. Beasts don't do well in cages, Will.”
He had ignored it; his beast had never even tried to claw its way out.
Until now.
What was it about her? Well, other than her absolute perfection, of course.
He could take or leave big tits, but in his opinion, a nice ass was a must; her peach-shaped one, somewhat too large compare to the rest of her frame, was definitely up there in the top ten of every single one he’d seen in over nine hundred years. That guaranteed that his dick stayed hard anywhere near her.
But when he thought of it, what made her stand out was her mouth. Not because he’d like nothing more than to see it wrapped around his cock – although there was that, too – but because she wouldn’t open it.
He could see the wheels turning, she had plenty to say, but she just wouldn’t. Everything coming out of it was a direct reply to whatever he’d said or asked – she gave nothing away so, of course, he wanted to know what made her tick.
His interest would dwindle, eventually. Probably. Maybe.
He sighed out loud. How inconvenient. In all his years, William had never developed something quite so close to an infatuation. Why now? Why her? He knew nothing of her, really.
Within minutes, his decision was made. He called his brother back, hoping against all hope the King was too busy to get him to talk about hows and whys. He would know, eventually: Michael was a damn skilled psychic – one of the reasons why William and their sister didn’t live in the same state as him.
“Change of plan. I’m coming to Washington.”
William’s hopes were dashed when Michael asked why, rather than acquiescing and hanging up.
“Brilliant. But I thought you had a new charity case under your roof.”
Why hadn’t he prepared an answer to that very expected question? Michael was far too astute to believe a half-assed lie, so instead, he went for a generic:
“It’s complicated.”
Mike snorted on the other end of the line. Dammit, how did he do it?
“So, out of ten, what’s her ass like?”
Ten. Eleven and a half.
“Shut it, brother, I still have pictures of your disco phase. The pink trousers and the afro were particularly tasteful.”
Michael could be many things, but certainly not a fashion expert. William had wisely stuck to suits all the way through the twentieth century.
“I’ll take this as a confession. But very well, I could use a hand. Is Charlotte accompanying you?”
Their sister, the only elder patrician who’d refused to rule her own city, lived with him – mainly because he wouldn’t allow otherwise. Although she was certainly able to take care of herself, she was also… vulnerable. Ok, to be entirely frank? She was insane. In the most endearing sense of the term, but batshit crazy nonetheless.
If she had been human, she might have been diagnosed with ADHD and OCD, amongst other things, but when those very manageable traits were paired with the mind and abilities of a vampire – infinitely quicker than a human’s – the result was pure crazy.
She forgot everything, remembered it all at once, danced alone in the middle of a crowd, walked down the street naked, cleaned the bathroom at the same time as cooking those weird-ass weed and blood cookies no one should ever eat.
He remembered giving in and trying a bit, once, and he was pretty sure that it had resulted in him turning into Charlotte, for all intent and purposes. He’d gone running naked around Central Park and woke up in a sea of exhausted, naked bodies, male and female alike, although he’d believed he was entirely straight, until that day. Given the fact that he hadn’t exactly dislike the soreness of his own ass, he’d since changed his tune, introducing himself as bi-curious from that point onward.
William was all for a good time, occasionally, but high didn’t even begin to cover what he’d felt like. Those cakes should be outlawed.
“No, I don’t think so. I’ll ask her to stay with Fay.”
“Ah! We have a name.”
William chastised himself; he bet Michael would scan his mind for any mention of Fay until he got everything, down to her fantastic measurements.
“When can I expect you?”
“By dawn.”
He gave himself that one evening to spe
ak to Charlotte and organize around the clock protection for Fay, in or out of his house; then he was out of there.
It turned out that her first assessment had been accurate: although she’d bitten her, and most probably touched her vagina less than twenty-four hours earlier, Jessica’s presence was a blessing.
That wasn’t a tribute to the vampire’s character, as much as a judgment on her fellow human’s bitchiness. Agnes was a piece of work. The kind she’d only encountered in Mean Girls and other teenage flicks on TV. Her weapon of choice was passive-aggressive comments such as “You’re very lucky. With those tiny boobs, it will be so much easier to find you suitable tops,” or “I cannot fathom why those trousers just won’t go past your hips, darling.”
Politeness was a second nature to Fay, so she only smiled and thanked her for the “compliments.” Nothing was spared: her wavy hair, her height, her coloring. She mused, trying to get Agnes’ point. Was she supposed to be self-conscious?
The thing was, no amount of self-bashing would make either feature change, so whatever. She knew she wasn’t as pretty as traditional beauties like Agnes. From her few memories and the handful of pictures she’d seen over the years, she’d gathered that mother had been a tiny, gorgeous Latina, her father, a handsome Caucasian; as a mixture of the two, she was weird, however she’d never wished to be anything but what she was, especially when she’d seen the attention Cece had got, because of her appearance.
The store they’d entered was many girls’ idea of heaven: everything she’d ever salivated over was casually lying around on smart display. Considering that everywhere she turned, she saw half a dozen things she would have loved to wear, she had to hand it to Agnes: managing to sabotage her took some skills.
Fay was actually not nearly as stupid as she liked to pretend to be, to ensure she stayed under the radar. She may smile and nod a lot, but she generally had a set opinion on a lot of things, and fashion was not an exception.
She hadn’t been at liberty to express her taste, but she had a pretty good idea of what would fit her. None of what the bitchy blonde made her try was even remotely favoring her.
Speak up, Fay. Tell her to bugger off.
But she couldn’t. Three, four times, she tried to open her mouth, and just closed it, like the pushover she was.
She’s just a human. She can’t hurt you. Speak up.
She was gearing up for a conflict, when the door of her changing room opened, in front of the frightening, and striking ebony William had called Jessica.
Her eyes were glistening, like every angry, hungry, or excited vampire she knew. Fay froze, and somehow prevented herself from taking a step back.
“You look ridiculous,” the vampire stated, gesturing to her outfit.
She did. Everything Jessica picked was gorgeous and expensive, but also completely wrong for her. Plunging necklines against her tiny boobs. Pale colors that made her darker skin look sickly. Long pants that drowned her shape.
“Do you need help?”
Fay nodded before she considered it. Did that mean she’d owe a favor to Jessica? She wasn’t sure she wanted that… but it did probably beat looking like a meringue in that white blouse with ruffles on the sleeves.
Jessica got a phone out and scrolled through her contacts before pressing on a name Fay couldn’t read upside down.
She was fascinated by the whole thing, though. She hadn’t had a phone for years and the sleek, modern thing in the vampire’s hand seem almost alien – a highly advanced technology, compared to what she knew.
Fay recalled that she used to love gadgets – yet another thing that had been stripped from her personality.
Almost everything that had defined her had vanished, leaving her bare, empty. How sad was that?
Jessica’s voice pulled her from that depressing thought.
“Hey. I’m in Saks with the boss’s latest stray. He’s sent Agnes to outfit her.”
The person on the other end replied something her human ears couldn’t catch.
“Yeah, worse. You’re free?”
Jessica was smiling and thanking her contact, before hanging up.
“She’s close. Just hang on ten minutes. Don’t let her buy any of that crap,” the vampire stressed, before leaving her alone with her offensive wardrobe, wondering who the hell “she” could be.
Soon enough, she had an answer.
“She” was Aphrodite, Bathsheba, Juliet, Medusa, and every female so stunning poets and painters had had no choice but to represent them over the ages, all rolled into one.
Fay was dumbstruck, completely blown away. The entire scene happened before she could regain her wits and manage to utter a word.
Vampires were generally more attractive than most of the population. Over ninety percent of them had been made by an immortal, because they’d either earned it, or slept their way through the path to immortality. That meant only beautiful or highly gifted people made the cut, and the vampirisation process made them more exceptional yet; they ended up as a healthier version of themselves – both in mind and body.
Good looks were easier to come by than remarkable skills, hence why nine vampires out of ten could have featured on the cover of a fashion magazine; but the creature that joined them was another matter altogether. She wasn’t beautiful; that common word didn’t cut it.
Her knee-length strawberry blond hair shone like soft, newly made plastic, every single one of her feature was perfect – heart-shaped face, little turned up nose, long lashes. Nature shouldn’t have added up all of those blessings in one individual.
“I’m delighted to bump into you,” she said to Agnes, in particular, her voice sweet, melodious. “I was so lonely by myself.”
Her adorable pout made Fay want to give her a hug; an achievement, considering that female unmistakably belonged to the bloodsucking variety. Most vampires retracted their fangs unless they were feeding, but she hers were unabashedly extended, flashing whenever she smiled.
They looked cute. How the hell could fangs – elongated canines designed to cut through human skin – look cute?
“You must be the new girl. I’m Charlotte,” she introduced herself, holding up a hand Fay shook numbly. “We’ll be living together.”
Fay couldn’t even pretend to be upset; sure, learning that the vampire who featured in her fantasies was taken brought a pang of disappointment, but one only had to look at that magnificent woman to understand they belonged together.
It also explained why William hadn’t been even remotely interested in using Fay – unlike every vampire she’d met before him. Of course, he would be faithful to a woman such as her.
For all her beauty, Charlotte wasn’t even a little bit catty. She eagerly shook her hand, friendly, welcoming, and if Fay wasn’t mistaken, she also briefly winked her way, before turning back towards Agnes. “I’ll stay with you, if you don’t mind.”
Despite the gracious formulation, there was no way to decline that “request”. Fay just watched and learned her display of quiet, assured dominance.
Charlotte wasn’t much taller than her, yet everything in her stance silently proclaimed that she was in control here.
Fay hadn’t noticed them at first, but now she saw the pupils under her long lashes; ageless, cold sky blue eyes. Shit. She was an ancient, too. That explained her commanding presence, but not her soft, approachable demeanor. The conundrum got her frowning for so long she could already feel another headache coming.
Meanwhile, Agnes magically lost the bulk of the unattractive outfits, and started to choose things that were actually likely to fit and suit Fay. Cute high necklines, sleeveless tops, bold red and bright yellows perfect against her skin, backless blouses, Peplum coats and dresses that showed off her waist, wide belts, and yes, plunge necklines, too – but not the kind that were meant to show off the goods; simple, casual, loose-fitted ones that gave her a careless look.
Now she had one – or two – women in her corner, Fay did manage to find her voice.
She said no, twice. She asked to walk around the store and select a few things for herself, too.
“Seriously?” Agnes grimaced at the tiny jacket Fay held up.
It was pretty useless, to be entirely frank – the soft, dark red leather garment was cropped at the waist, so it wasn’t likely to be much help against rain or wind, but it was pretty badass. Fay was desperate for a little bit of badass in her life.
“I love it,” Charlotte grinned – probably just to antagonize Agnes, who quickly changed her tune.
“Sure, it’s gorgeous, but she doesn’t have anything that would go with it.”
They went back to the casual section, replacing one or two of the dresses she hadn’t really wanted with long tops, leggings and more notably, a pair of boots.
Hours later, Fay was still smiling from ear to ear every time she caught a glimpse of those boots in the window displays they passed by. Yes, she’d worn them right away.
The block heels were sturdy, easy to manage although she wasn’t used to it, and it had granted her an extra three and a half inches, making her almost as tall as Charlotte. They were lace-up and Jessica helpfully noted that they’d make her kicks pretty powerful.
“You can hide a few blades in here, too,” the other vampire added.
Fay was likely to cut off her toes if she attempted to, but it didn’t stop her from beaming nonetheless. It may just be appearances, but there was some sense in the whole fake it till you make it thing. She’d never felt so powerful – and in control of her life.
As soon as they’d walked out of Saks, Agnes was making her excuses.
“Jessica and Charlotte will have to take you to the spa, if you want to go; I have another appointment,” she lied, leaving a credit card behind.
Although Fay had now been entrusted to the care of two vampires, she finally relaxed.
“What was that about?” she enquired, turning to Jessica, who shrugged.