Sacred Circle

by Claire Thompson

  “Oh, my God,” Margo whispered. “I’m so sorry. You’re right. I’m such a blithering idiot. Such a dope. Of course, you can’t write the story. Of course, I wouldn’t dream of compromising you like that. It was just a fantasy. Please forgive me. I’ve lived in these little fantasies all my life. Sometimes I forget what’s real and what’s possible. I’m so, so sorry.” Her eyes were brimming with tears and inside she was screaming curses at herself.

  “I think you should go now, Margo. There will be other evenings.”

  “Yes, thank you, Julian. And Grace. Thank you for everything. I do hope we will see one another again.” With heavy heart Margo stood, remarkably graceful despite her voluptuous frame. She kissed Grace on both cheeks, European style. Without meeting Julian’s eyes, she thanked them once again and disappeared.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Margo stayed away for four days. She didn’t call or drop by though she was dying to do both. How she had cried and cursed on the drive home from their hotel. She had blown the most amazing opportunity of her life. It was quite possible they would never agree to see her again. For all she knew, they had already packed their bags and were heading for Europe. They had trusted her with secrets that perhaps no other human had been privy to.

  And what had she done? Dove in like an eager puppy into a summer stream, splashing and panting like a little fool. Why, oh why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut! Though with Julian, her thoughts were an open book as well. Grace was beginning to explore her own telepathic abilities but evidently, that wasn’t something that came overnight.

  Patience, Margo admonished herself. Perhaps if I give them space, let them see I can wait, they will call me back into their blessed circle. Their dark, delicious circle. A day passed, two, three and four. Nothing.

  Loneliness and frustration drove her back into the arms of her coven, the Red Covenant, where Robert, Rhonda and her poor, dear Mark seemed suspended in time, still playing their little games with blood and submission. Mark knelt at her feet as she entered, almost sobbing in his gratitude at her return.

  “Mistress,” he sighed. “I thought you were never coming back! I need to give you my blood, Mistress. Please accept my submissive offering.” Margo resisted her urge to shake his arms from her leg. It wasn’t his fault she had ruined everything with the vampires.

  It wasn’t Mark’s fault that she now found their little games amusing perhaps, but nothing more. She certainly wasn’t in the mood to take his feeble offering of a few drops of blood. If she had played her cards right, it might have been her blood being accepted by one of the true kin, as Julian had called himself and Grace.

  If only she had something to offer them. A peace offering, perhaps. But what in the world did she have that they would want? Julian was obviously extremely wealthy. The two of them could have whatever they wanted. Not that they could be bought. She sighed aloud, her thoughts looping in frustrated circles.

  Robert entered the large old parlor. “Margo. How nice to see you. It’s been too long.” His tone was formal and it was clear he was miffed. Though he didn’t know where she had been, he liked for the members of the Red Covenant to spend their time with him. Where Margo enjoyed the game, for Robert it had become a way of life. He held no job, his inheritance permitting him a life of leisure, and his nature embracing a life of ease.

  Having no career or vocation, his identity was completely wrapped up in the Red Covenant, and Margo’s absence over the past week had probably been perceived as a kind of defection. Or so she interpreted as she took in his haughty but wounded expression. The boy really was so young, she reminded herself, not yet even out of his twenties. While he could be a prig, he really wasn’t a bad fellow and she recalled that she’d spent many an enjoyable evening here with all these strange misfits, hashing over their theories about vampires, taking the blood of the submissive donors and eating Robert’s food and drinking his wines.

  Smiling, Margo opened her arms as she moved toward Robert, leaving poor Mark kneeling on the carpet. “Robert, darling. Forgive me for staying away so long. I had appointments. Things I just couldn’t put off. I would have phoned but I got too involved. You know me. I get into a manuscript, and the rest of the world could be on fire and I wouldn’t notice!”

  She embraced his tall thin form, aware of the effect her breasts would have on him as she pressed closely against his chest. Robert responded, wrapping his own arms around her and briefly nuzzling her neck. “Well, it’s about time you came back to the circle, Margo. Mark here’s been without a mistress, and you know he likes to donate only to you.”

  Margo glanced back at Mark, still kneeling on the carpet with his blond head bowed, and quashed her impatience. “Yes, yes, of course. Poor Mark. Go get yourself ready, boy. I’ll take some blood in a little while. I’m famished for it.” She threw back her head dramatically, trying to get into the spirit of things but the game had lost its appeal. How could this charade ever compare to the time she had spent with real vampires?

  Suppressing a sigh, she stood back from Robert and said, “How have you been, Robert? How is Rhonda?” She didn’t hear his response. All at once, her eyes lighted on the queer, little glass vial he wore about his neck on the fine gold chain. She remembered Julian’s description of the little vial Adrienne had used to sever her own vein as an offering to her lover.

  Now she gazed at the little vial, its glass opaque and rainbowed from oxidation and age. Could it be the original amphora? The very one that had cut Adrienne’s flesh almost three hundred years ago? How did Robert come to have such a thing? What would Julian give to have it himself? Would it gain her reentry into the heady and wonderful, if dangerous, world of the vampires?

  “Robert,” she spoke low, her voice seductive. “Robert, can we talk, darling? Alone?”

  Robert looked confused for a moment. Though Margo knew he carried a torch for her, she had never given him the slightest provocation to go after her. She was, after all, old enough to be his mother. While she did keep Mark on a little string, their relationship was Mistress and donor. She had certainly never had sex with him, or led him to believe he was her lover. Mark had seemed content with what she offered, which was the sucking of his blood from time-to-time, and allowing him to rest his sweet corn-yellow head on her lap for stroking.

  Her status as a widow these past five years had left her in a sort of bubble, sexually speaking. She had had a few dalliances, but nothing lasting and certainly nothing with a younger man. There seemed so little point to it, as her body had seemed to shut down when Roger had contracted and then died from pancreatic cancer. The idea of casual sex had at first offended and then just bored her. Usually she found she would rather be alone in bed with a good book. No one would ever replace Roger.

  Now she glanced from Mark to Robert. Robert was a more complex man, and less easy to subdue. She would have to use all her wiles to get what she wanted. As she touched his forearm, squeezing just a little, she whispered, “Your bedroom perhaps? Would that be all right?”

  Margo was aware that Rhonda wasn’t home, as she went to see her ailing father every evening to prepare his dinner before returning to the old mansion on Charles Street to serve her “vampire” circle. She felt a stab of guilt at what she was about to do, but also felt she was serving a higher purpose now. She would do whatever it took to get back into the good graces of the vampires, whatever the cost.

  Now she led Robert into his own bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back so that her ample cleavage was clearly in view, her luscious breasts pressed together alluringly in the low-cut, soft cotton top she was wearing. “Sit next to me, Robert. You know, ever since you and that Julian fellow were discussing this little trinket of yours—” she touched the ancient amphora lightly, smiling coyly at the young man, “—I’ve been thinking what a pretty little thing it is. I do so love oxidized glass, you know. I wonder where I could get something like it. Don’t you think it would be pretty, right here?”

  She
took his hand, holding his fingers lightly at her chest, just above her breasts. She licked her lips, gazing up at him through her lashes, feeling at once foolish and playful. Could she still seduce a man at her age? A man half her age? Still holding his fingers against her chest, Margo drew them down lower, until they were touching her soft full breast.

  Robert gulped, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing. “Margo, what…”

  She interrupted him, putting a finger to his lips. “Hush, Robert. Don’t speak. Do you think maybe you could lock the door?” When he stood and strode to the bedroom door, turning the old-fashioned lock, she knew she had him. Men were so easy, she thought. Maybe she hadn’t lost her touch.

  Am I a whore, using my body to get what I want? This thought flitted past her, no doubt a remnant from her Catholic upbringing. What was a little casual sex, when she had the key to a three hundred-year-old vampire’s desires? Her only qualm was about Rhonda, who actually seemed to be in love with this callow lad. Well, hopefully the old adage that what Rhonda didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her would hold true.

  Margo realized that she had decided at this moment that her days with Red Covenant were over. She could no longer play the game. It was absurd in the face of what she now knew about Julian and Grace. A whole world of dreams and fantasy had suddenly become real and she could never return to this little wannabe club of pretenders.

  Focusing on the task at hand, Margo said, “Robert, I’ve always found you so attractive. Isn’t that silly? An old woman like me.”

  As she had hoped, he took his cue, assuring her that she wasn’t old and that he had always found her sexy. “Sexy as hell,” he reiterated as he sat down again, his thigh boldly touching hers. “Though I admit I’m surprised. I’ve known you for over two years now, and I had no idea you were even the slightest bit interested in me.”

  “Well, I know you’re taken.”

  “What, Rhonda? She belongs to me, not the other way around. I can do what I like. And right now, I like you, Margo. Oh, my yes.” As he spoke, his voice lowered and softened, his hand stroking her breast with increasing boldness.

  Margo closed her eyes. Robert wasn’t a man she would have chosen, even if they were the same age, but his hand did feel nice, gently caressing her flesh. She stayed very still, her eyes closed, as his hand groped inside of her top, slipping past the satin of her bra.

  When he touched a nipple, she jumped a little. No one had touched her so intimately for such a long time. She hadn’t realized she’d missed it. When she jerked, Robert pulled his hand away and stood up suddenly. Margo opened her eyes and saw she had sent the wrong signal.

  Smiling in what she hoped was a seductive manner she said, “I’m sorry, cher. You startled me. I not used to such a handsome young man touching me like that. Please, do it again.”

  Robert’s pupils were dilated and a flush was creeping up his cheeks. When her eyes dropped to his crotch the final evidence of his arousal was abundantly clear. As he touched her nipples again, this time with both hands, she dared to place on hand gently on his bulging pants.

  Robert moaned and said, “My God. I can’t believe this. I’ve fantasized about it forever. I had no idea. No idea.” He sounded so earnest and so needy that Margo felt another stab of guilt, this time for him. She was definitely leading him on, as she had no intention of ever going past this one time. It was just a way to get the amulet.

  Well, at least she would make this one time something sweet, she decided. She stood, pressing her full body against Robert’s thin one, feeling his iron-hard erection poking at her belly. Aware that she didn’t have much time before Rhonda returned home, she knelt quickly, pulling down the zipper of his black pants with some difficulty past his engorged member.

  Robert helped her, stumbling a little, as he danced out of his pants. His cock was sticking straight up, the head popping out of the top of his bikini briefs. His cock was long and thin, like the rest of him. Margo leaned up, pressing her breasts against his shaft, rubbing it between them until he moaned.

  “Oh, God, Margo, take off your top. Please. Show me those gorgeous tits.” Margo obliged, hoping the blush she felt creeping over her cheeks didn’t show. She felt like a young girl and was mentally chiding herself to get a grip. What if this young man, so used to his thin and nubile girlfriend, found her repulsive, fat?

  She had never considered herself fat, but she was a big woman—Rubenesque, her husband used to say. She pushed the thought of Roger out of her mind and focused on the young man before her. Obviously, the boy was aroused and hopefully too far gone to care if her breasts sagged a little or her bottom was too large.

  Taking the hem of her shirt in either hand, Margo lifted it over her head and shook her long silver-streaked hair loose. She unclasped the little hooks at the back of her bra and slid it down her arms. “Oh,” Robert said, his mouth remaining open as he knelt now in front of her, lifting a heavy breast and putting it to his mouth.

  His appreciation was evident as he suckled and licked at her nipples, now dark red and fully distended from his attentions. It felt wonderful and Margo finally let go of her own fears and insecurities as Robert lifted her again to a standing position and took her in his arms.

  He kissed her deeply, his mouth wet and eager against hers. She realized with a little shock that she didn’t like his kiss. His breath smelled of garlic, and his kiss was too sloppy. Gently she disengaged, dropping down again at his feet to take his cock into her mouth. As she pulled down his underwear, he kicked it aside in his impatience for her mouth.

  The penis was long and difficult to take in fully, so she licked and teased up and down the shaft, circling the head with little butterfly kisses. She cupped his balls in her hand, and wrapped the other hand around the base of the shaft so that there was less to take into her throat.

  Robert moaned and arched against her. “Sweet Jesus, Mary, mother of God,” he cried, prompting her to shush him.

  “Robert! The others!” Robert clapped a hand to his mouth like a little kid and then grinned. His hair, normally brushed severely back from his forehead, had flopped over, making him look even younger than he was. He really was a sweet boy, when he dropped all the lordly vampire posturing and affectations. Slowly she took his cock again into her mouth.

  After a few moments Robert said, “I’d rather put it somewhere else. I want you so much, Margo. Please.” His voice was yearning, almost pleading. Margo was put off by it, as she liked a man who took what he wanted rather than begging for it. Nonetheless, this wasn’t her lover. This was a mission.

  Refocused on that idea, she said, “Robert. I was wondering. Do you think I might be able to buy this from you?” Again, she touched the amphora, dragging her red nails down his chest as she did so. “It would go so perfectly with several of my outfits. I know it was expensive. I’m ready to pay whatever it cost you and more, of course, for your troubles.”

  Robert’s hand closed over the little glass vial. “This. Yes, you mentioned you liked it. That guy Julian Gaston liked it, too. So he said, before he bloody well disappeared with Grace. Stole her, is what he did. I was going to consider allowing her to apply for a position in our circle, you know, before she blew it by going off with that loser.”

  Margo saw that his penis was starting to wilt. She stood and began to slowly remove her pants, revealing her pretty, satin underwear. Robert’s attention was diverted as he watched her. “Oh, well,” she said casually, trying to quell her nervousness about removing her underwear. “If she doesn’t come back, she wasn’t worthy of your attentions, Robert. The Red Covenant isn’t for everyone, you know. Only the most select few.”

  Robert smiled, mollified. His jaw dropped a little as she slid out of her panties and stood naked before him. She blushed again as he stared openly at her sex, at her breasts. To avoid that avid gaze, she dropped onto his bed and held out her arms. Robert stripped off his briefs and tumbled heavily against her, his cock slapping her thigh.

  “So about that litt
le trinket,” she murmured, as he tried to kiss her.

  “It’s not a little trinket, Margo. It cost me nine hundred dollars.”

  “I had no idea!” Margo rejoined, though in fact she herself had surmised it to be worth far more, if it was as old as she thought it was.

  “Well,” he said self-importantly. “It’s not as if I can’t afford it, you know.”

  Margo resisted a snort at what she felt was his bad taste. She tried again, “Well, it would make a lovely gift for someone. Someone who would appreciate its value.” Someone like me. Too bad he couldn’t receive telepathic suggestions from her, a mere human. Instead, she forced herself to kiss him, allowing him to slobber and suck at her mouth.

  He pressed his hard body against her yielding one and said, “I want to fuck you. Now.”

  “But, Robert, what about Rhonda? I think you’re just using me. I’m just handy while she’s out. You care nothing for me.”

  “But I do! I do! And you’re so gorgeous. I’m going to come on your leg if you don’t let me stick it in.” Charming imagery, she thought grimly, though she smiled at him.

  “You do care about me?” her voice was consciously coquettish.

  “I do. Here.” He reached behind his neck, doing the very thing she had willed. Lifting the long gold chain over his head, he handed Margo the coveted ancient glass. She took it quickly, setting it aside so he wouldn’t focus on it.

  “You do care,” she murmured, as she pulled him onto her, guiding his bone-hard cock into her pussy. For the several minutes he lasted, it felt good. The earth didn’t move, but the sensations were pleasant and it was nice to have a man again, even if she was only using him, and he her.