Eternal Hunger

by Cameron Dean

  Ash’s mouth left mine to roam across my face and bite the soft flesh of one earlobe.

  “You’re going to make me crazy,” he said.

  “Turnabout is fair play,” I responded. Over his shoulder, on the edge of the pool, I caught a glimpse of a broad, low shelf, bordered by lush plant fronds. Perfect, I thought. I turned my head, so that our lips met again, dancing across his, teasing with my teeth and tongue. “Back up.”

  “Hmmm?” Ash murmured. Without warning, he opened his mouth and caught my lips between his teeth, flicking across them with his tongue. I gasped, and twisted, managing to break free enough to capture his lower lip between my teeth.

  Hungry. I am so hungry for you, I thought. “Ash,” I said again, more urgently this time. “Back up.”

  He closed his eyes, as if to better sense where he was going. Our mouths still busy together, Ash began to back slowly through the water, our passage providing exquisite friction against my open thighs. Slowly, we made our way to the far side of the pool. The moment Ash felt the shelf against the back of his legs, he stopped. I dropped my legs, placing my feet against the edge of the shelf, and pushed myself away from his body. Ash opened his eyes. I saw the silver glitter of them, like fireflies in the dim light. His hands dropped to my ass, positioning me, urgently.

  I shook my head. “No. Not yet. There’s something else I want.”

  “Then take it,” Ash said.

  I pushed again, the momentum carrying me away from his body, and this time, Ash let me go. I stood for a moment, watching him, the water lapping just below his waist. The tip of his cock, just below the waterline. My eyes on his, I moved toward him. Hands flat against his chest, I applied pressure until he eased down onto the shelf. His cock rose up, out of the water. I urged him back farther still, so that he lay spread-eagled, and felt a surge of outrageous desire. Never had I seen Ash so exposed.

  I knelt down facing him, my own body in the water. Again, I ran my tongue up along the length of Ash’s cock, watched the way it pulsed and shuddered. So many tastes and textures, all so different from my own. The blunt head of his penis with its texture like velvet, the taut, thick shaft thrusting up from the firm, round balls.

  Mine, I thought. Mine to love. Mine to control.

  I closed my wet hands around Ash’s cock, squeezing and releasing again and again. I flicked my tongue, swirling and dancing it around his head, until I heard him groan. Ash had wanted me to feed, and now I did. Not on his blood, but on his need, his desire. The passion he felt for me, and me alone. Until I felt his body tremble with his effort to hold himself back.

  No, I thought. Not this time.

  I had feasted on Ash like an animal, driven only by need, without conscious thought. Now, I would make him do the same. With my tongue, with my mouth, with my body, I would make him lose control. I would make him feed his desire.

  I let my mouth leave his cock, moving downward to bite the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. Instinctively, he moved to close his legs. I slid down beneath the surface of the water then stroked backward, away from the shelf. Ash followed at once, body sluicing into the water. He reached for me. I eluded his grasp, rolling over onto my stomach as I propelled myself forward.

  You want me? I thought. Come and get me. Come for me.

  Without warning, the opposite edge of the pool loomed into view. I shot toward it, intending to reach it, then bank away. But Ash was too quick for me. Trailing a stream of bubbles, he shot past me. I backstroked, trying to slow my momentum, and felt one hand grasp me around the elbow. Ash pulled me to him with a jerk. I yanked back, against his hold, but he was simply too strong. Our bodies crashed together. Ash bowed me back, pulling one breast deep inside his mouth. I twisted against him, as if trying to get away, though we both knew, full well, what this game was. Together, we broke the surface of the water in a cascade of water.

  My legs were around Ash’s waist again, now. His hands at my back, steadying me as his ravenous mouth moved from one breast to the other. I braced my legs against the edge of the pool, lowered myself until I felt the blunt tip of Ash’s cock at the entrance to my body. I let it penetrate, then pulled myself up. A second, and then a third time, taking him in a little deeper each time I returned, I teased him, teased us both, until I began to feel my own game begin to catch up with me. There was only one thing that could feed the hunger that drove me now: Ash, inside my body.

  “Do it, Ash,” I panted. “Do it. Fuck me.”

  He made a sound then that I cannot describe. A sound so pure and elemental, I felt my whole body tighten in response. I felt the world spin, and belatedly realized we had turned around. Ash took several churning steps through the water, then hoisted me up and out, onto a shelf I hadn’t even noticed, turning my body so that my back was to him. I understood what he wanted at once. Even as I felt his hands upon my ass, I was shifting to my knees, opening my body to him, legs braced, pelvis tilted up. I felt his hands slide around to seize my breasts, capturing the nipples between his fingers and squeezing tightly.

  “Now,” I said. “Ash, now.”

  His hands dropped to steady my hips, and then his body was surging forward. Filling me in a single stroke, potent, powerful. I made a sound of my own then lowered my head down onto my hands, tilted my ass up higher, pushed back hard. I heard him give a grunt as he pulled his cock back, then drove forward once more. He wrapped a hand around my belly to hold me still as he set a hard, fast rhythm. Neither of us was going to last long. We both needed too much. The fingers of his free hand moved between my thighs even as the force of his thrusts drove the water against my clit. I felt time stretch, suspend, and, at long last, stop.

  For an infinitesimal second, my body hung in the balance. Senses crying out for release even as they begged for more. No! I thought. I dug my fingernails into my own skin in a desperate attempt to hold on to my passion. I would not be first, not this time. I would see this game that I had started through to its conclusion. This time, it would be Ash who lost control. I threw back my head and screamed aloud, and as I did, Ash’s tempo increased. Primal as a heartbeat.

  “Candace,” he said. “For the love of God.”

  And I knew that I had won.

  I felt him go absolutely still then, his cock rock-hard within my body, his entire body straining as it reached for desire’s prize. I clenched my muscles, as if determined to hold him there forever. Knew the second he came undone. He called out, even as his body began to buck and plunge. Sobbing now, glorying in Ash’s release, I let myself go, let his passion carry me along. The orgasm rolled through me like a shimmering wave, rolling me beneath it even as it bore me up upon its crest, until the world was gone. There was no daylight world of humans, no shadowy vampire nights. There was only this blinding wave of passion that Ash and I created together. In a universe of uncertainties, this was the only thing that would last. This was the thing for which I would fight death itself.

  As if from a great distance, I felt Ash ease out of my body, turn me gently so that I faced him, then slip back inside. My body quivered as it welcomed him back. Ash leaned down, kissed my eyelids closed, then moved his tongue across them in a gesture that made my throat ache, it felt so sweet.

  “I love you, Candace Steele,” he said.

  I opened my eyes, gazed upward. Ash’s hair, always slightly too long, dripped down into his eyes. I reached to push it back, let my fingers linger over the contours of his face, as if by doing so I could help commit it to memory.

  “I love you, Ashford Donahue the third,” I replied. Then an odd thought occurred to me. “If we had a son, would he be Ashford Donahue the fourth?”

  “God forbid,” Ash said. He was silent for a moment. Our mutual passion well and truly spent, I could feel his body begin to soften, though it stayed within my own. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For what?”

  He was silent for a moment. “For all the things we’ll never have, I guess,” he said at last. “I would have like
d to give you a child.”

  I reached up, brought his mouth to mine for a long, slow kiss, even as I felt the tears build at the back of my eyes. He nestled his face in the crook of my neck.

  “Jesus, Ash,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. He pressed a kiss into the hollow of my throat. “I know. I have learned to live without regret. If I hadn’t, I would have gone mad long ago. Maybe that’s why I love you so much. You show me so many possibilities, Candace, even if they’re ones I know I am denied.”

  “I don’t know what to say to you,” I confessed. “I wish I did but I don’t.”

  A child, I thought. Our child. If Ash were like other men, such a thing might have been possible. And if he were, would I love him as much?

  He raised his head then, and his silver eyes looked down. Straight and direct, never more beautiful than in this moment.

  “You can tell me that you love me,” he said.

  “I do love you. I will never stop loving you.”

  “Then I am content,” he said. He smiled suddenly and flicked a finger down my nose. “And I’m getting you out of this water before we both turn into prunes.”

  “I should hope so,” I said, sliding into the teasing in spite of the ache at the back of my throat. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a pruney vampire.”

  Hand in hand, we left the pool behind.

  Several hours later, as the cool of the evening settled over the city, I perched on a tall stool in the kitchen, watching as Ash deftly dressed a salad. What is it about passion that inspires domesticity? I suddenly wondered. Was it the desire to further claim one’s mate? To feed one’s love in all the ways that are possible? I took a sip of deep-red wine, savoring its earthy taste. Neither Ash nor I actually needed the food he was preparing, not in the way we had when we were altogether human. It would not truly sustain us. But there was still something about the ritual of food preparation that felt intimate, as if it were a gift. I took a second sip, watching as Ash unwrapped two enormous steaks.

  “Ash,” I said. “How long have you been a vampire?”

  He paused in the act of shaking seasonings onto the steaks. “What makes you ask that all of a sudden?”

  “It’s not particularly sudden,” I said. “I guess I’ve always wanted to know. It never seemed quite right to ask before.” I took another sip of wine. “I’ll withdraw the question if you like.”

  He shook his head, as if to clear it. “No. I was created in the time of the earthquake.”

  I set the wineglass down on the counter with a sharp click, certain I must have misunderstood.

  “The San Francisco earthquake,” I said. A statement, not a question.

  Ash nodded.

  “Not Loma Prieta,” I persevered. “The—what do they call it…the other one?”

  “The great earthquake,” Ash said quietly. “And yes, I do mean that.”

  “But that was…” I began. With a quick gesture, Ash slapped the steaks onto the stovetop grill, cutting me off. Not that I would have been able to get another word out, anyhow. My throat had gone abruptly thick, as if all my questions were jockeying for position at once.

  The meat hit the metal with a sharp, hot sizzle. Ash left them for the amount of time it took him to reach for a pair of tongs. He flipped the steaks, slid a pair of dinner plates into position beside the grill, then lifted the steaks off. It pretty much gave a whole new definition to the term rare. He moved to the counter where I sat motionless upon my stool and plunked the plates down. Only when he was seated, facing me, did he speak.

  “Nineteen aught six,” he said.

  I felt dizzy. 1906. The man I loved was more than a hundred years old. Had been a vampire for more than a hundred years, I silently corrected myself. Ash had stopped counting his age in human years long before I was born.

  “Those days were…chaos,” he went on quietly. He cut a slice of steak, its interior bright with blood, and held it out to me. “Eat this, Candace,” he said.

  I did as he requested, feeling the texture of the meat inside my mouth, the sensuous feel of the juice and blood slipping down the back of my throat.

  “Days of earth and water, fire and blood. I have never seen their like again, nor do I want to. Even the one who made me was shaken by them. I think that’s why she created me, instead of just feeding then leaving me to die. Even those who dwell in the darkness could not bear the terror of those days.”

  She, I thought, then realized I wasn’t altogether surprised. Another man might have simply taken Ash when he was weak then walked away. But a woman would not have wanted to discard him. A woman would have wanted to keep him with her.

  “Did you come to love her?”

  “No,” Ash said quickly, shaking his head. “There was never any question of that. But I did come to feel a sense of gratitude.” His mouth quirked up. “After I got over the initial shock. She gave me what so many others lost during those terrible days: the means to survive.”

  He lifted his gaze from his plate, at last, and met mine. “But I don’t look back, Candace. I never have. Those days are over. It’s what’s coming next that interests me. What I want, only the future holds.”

  “And what is that?” I whispered, though I had a feeling I knew quite well.

  “A life with you,” Ash said simply, “if you’ll allow me to use the word life. You are the first person I have loved in more than a hundred years, Candace. I thought I had forgotten how to love. I know I had forgotten why. You brought color back into my world. I am not ever going to let you go.”

  “Ash,” I said. “I…”

  A sound cut through the air of the kitchen, sharp and sudden as the thrust of a knife.

  “That’s my cell phone,” I said. My shoulder bag was sitting on a table near the front door.

  “Let it go,” Ash said, his tone slightly impatient. As if it had heard him, as suddenly as it had sounded, the phone cut off. I cut a slice of my own meat, and heard the phone sound again. I dropped the knife and fork onto my plate, hopped off the stool, and rushed to the front hall.

  “For crying out loud, Candace,” Ash called out.

  “It’s Bibi,” I called back. “We have this code. A call, a hang up, and a call back means there’s something wrong.”

  And it has to be bad, I thought as I reached my shoulder bag and pulled it open to dig out my cell phone. I located the phone, flipped it open.

  “I’m here,” I said.

  “Candace,” Bibi said my name on a sob. “You have to…there’s something…”

  “Where are you?” I broke in, but Bibi was sobbing in earnest now. Great choking gasps. The sound of them wrenched my heart. “Bibi,” I said, raising my voice. “I need you to keep it together. Take a deep breath and tell me where you are.”

  I heard her breath shudder in then out. “Penthouse,” she said. “I’m at the penthouse.”

  “I’m on my way,” I said. “I’m coming, do you hear me? Whatever this is, it will be all right.”

  She made a strangled sound, a laugh and a sob at once. “Say that again when you get here,” she said. Then, as if that complete sentence had exhausted her strength, she ended the call. I snapped the phone shut, tossed it back into the bag, then pulled the bag up onto my shoulder. I turned. During my brief conversation, Ash had followed me out into the entry hall.

  “Bibi needs me,” I said. “I have to go.”

  “I’ll drive you,” he said at once.

  I shook my head. “No. Not that I don’t appreciate it, but you’re not exactly her favorite person at the moment.” Or any moment, I thought. “I’m sorry but your coming along for the ride won’t help things. I couldn’t even get a straight answer about what’s wrong.”

  “I didn’t say I would come along for the ride,” Ash said, and I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was fighting to keep it even. “I said that I would drive you to wherever it is you’re going. I’m not letting you go into unknown danger alone, Candace. It’
s as simple as that.”

  He moved past me, pulled the door open with a yank. “So let me say it again, I’ll drive.”

  “Thank you very much,” I said. I stomped past him. He slammed the door behind us. I got halfway down the walk, then stopped, turning back so suddenly Ash crashed right into me. He reached to steady us both, his hands gripping my elbows, tightly.

  “I don’t know what’s happening,” I said again. “I don’t want to fight. She’s my best friend, Ash. I have to do this. I have to try and help.”

  He leaned down, pressed a hard kiss to my mouth. “I know you do,” he said. “It’s one of the reasons why I love you. And if you tell me one more time that I make it hard for you to stay mad at me, the deal’s off.”

  “In that case, I hate your fucking guts,” I said.

  Ash gave a wolfish grin, dropped a second kiss on my mouth.

  “Outstanding,” he said. “Now tell me where we’re going.”

  I turned toward the street then. Together, the two of us hurried toward the car.

  “To the Scheherazade,” I said. “Randolph Glass’s penthouse.”

  Nine

  The second Ash pulled up at the curb outside the Sher, I was out of the car. We had agreed he would park and wait for me downstairs. I had no idea how long I would be. I had no idea what was going on. My tension and fears had only increased on the drive into town. Ash and I hadn’t spoken much, but he had held my hand, silently offering support.

  “Don’t forget…” Ash began as he brought the car to a halt. But I already had the car door open, one foot planted firmly on the sidewalk. I levered myself out of the car, dashed the few steps to the Sher. With a blast of cold air, the automatic doors slid open as I approached. I barreled through the doorway then stopped as the wave of human experience crashed into me, sharp and vicious as a sucker punch.

  Don’t forget to take a moment to prepare yourself, Candace, I thought, mentally finishing the sentence I hadn’t let Ash complete. Wrapped in my fears for Bibi, I had not taken time to remember to center myself, to inhabit the place I had discovered before, the one I now secretly referred to as the “undead zone.” The place where my vampire powers would buffer me from human experience rather than making me a conduit for them.