de Sang: Embrace Your Blood Lust

by Hussey, C. D.

  "Why? It doesn't have the right energy or something?" She could tell by Slade's expression her tone had come out more mocking than she intended. He didn't seem offended though, only amused.

  "If only it were that simple. The anti-coagulants make me puke."

  At least when he answered her questions he was blunt and didn't pussyfoot around.

  "Then where…?"

  "I have a Donor. She's a friend of mine."

  "Oh." Kate felt her eyebrows push together. "But she's not a lover or anything?"

  "Nope."

  "Well, then, how—? I mean, doesn't it make it awkward to…get the blood." She was trying to envision one of her male friends, Clint maybe, nursing blood from somewhere on her body and couldn't. It was just too weird.

  "Come with me," Slade said as he stepped from behind the bar.

  "Where?"

  "Some things are more easily shown than told."

  "You're the second person who's told me that."

  "Who was the first?"

  "Angel."

  "Ah. Makes sense." He was standing next to the bar waiting for her to follow. "Are you coming or not?" he asked.

  "I don't think so." Did he really believe she was going to just traipse off with him to some undisclosed location?

  "Give me a break, Kate. You're the one with all the friggin' questions. If you want me to be your vampirepedia, you're gonna have to trust me a little."

  There was something about the challenge in his tone making her tail puff up. "Sure. Fine." Kate rose roughly and moved to stand beside him. When he just stood there staring at her with the dumb grin of his, she said, "Well, are you taking me to this magical vampire secret holding place or not?"

  "Hey Onyx," he called over her head. The dark haired waitress looked up from where she sat chatting with patrons. "Watch the bar for me, baby. I'll be right back." When she nodded, he turned back to Kate. "Shall we?"

  Chapter Six

  He led her to a closed door and paused to retrieve a set of keys buried deep in the front pocket of his black slacks. After unlocking the door and shoving it open, he reached across the doorway and clicked the light on. "Go ahead," he told her.

  She entered cautiously, half expecting to find a pile of bodies or a dungeon or something. The room was spotlessly clean and filled with stainless steel equipment, counters and chairs. Various medical looking devices were neatly arranged on tables or hung on walls.

  Tucked away in a corner, the bright red biohazard collection bin stood out in bold contrast against the stark metal.

  She turned to Slade in awe. "This is amazing," she said as he was gently closing the door. "Is this all used to draw blood?" She indicated the various appliances around her.

  Slade nodded.

  "I thought people just bit each other."

  "Some do, but it's generally frowned upon. Not only is the human mouth filthy, biting can be really painful and can actually do a lot of damage."

  "How does it all work? Show me something. What are the glass cups for?" Her enthusiasm was more blatant than she intended. She couldn't contain it though. Everything about this room fascinated her.

  Slade pulled what looked a large shot-glass from a shelf. "These are for cupping. After heating the cup, you place the opening of the glass flush against the skin like so," he pressed the glass into the fleshy part of her shoulder. "As the air inside compresses, a vacuum is created and blood is pulled out."

  "Straight through the skin? Sounds painful."

  "I'm sure it would be if it worked like that. You lance the skin first, otherwise you just get a big circular hickey."

  "So, is this how you get blood from your donor?"

  "No, I use these." He grabbed a couple sealed tubes and an unopened needle.

  Frowning, she said, "Isn't that was they use at the doctor's office?"

  "That they are."

  She grimaced. "Seems so sterile."

  "Definitely not my first choice."

  "What is?" She noticed her body was suddenly close enough to him to feel the heat radiating from his big body. He hadn't moved though, Kate had.

  She was pretty tall and Slade wasn't much taller than her, maybe five feet eleven inches, but what he lacked in height he more than made up in body mass. He dwarfed her. His bicep was as big as her thigh and his chest was three times wider than she was. As massive and thick as his fingers were, she could only imagine what other parts of him might be like. The thought made her pulse quicken.

  Her nearness did not escape his notice. Leaning close, he innocently brushed his arm against hers as he returned the vials to their home. At least the act seemed innocent enough, her reaction was anything but. Her arm lit on fire as every nerve sprang to life. She caught a scent of his rich cologne mixing perfectly with his own unique odor and her core clenched tightly in response. She was shocked by her body's reaction to him. The men she was normally attracted to were waif-like hipsters, not bulked out hunks amped up on testosterone. By Kate's standards, Lohr was the perfect male specimen.

  "I prefer my donor to be a lover," Slade said, his voice low and thick. "Blood may be a necessity for me but I'd rather receive it from someone I'm fucking."

  "How eloquently put," she replied sarcastically. Unfortunately, his crassness didn't reduce her unnatural attraction to him.

  More than a little annoyed by her body's reaction, she tried to put a few feet between them, but her legs had other plans and refused to budge. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest instead.

  Slade shrugged. "I'm good with a lot of things. Words aren't one. But if you're suggesting fucking is somehow less intimate than making love, you're dead wrong."

  She knew she'd regret asking, but couldn't help herself. "How so?"

  "Say I was going to make love to you right now." He moved to stand eye to eye with her. "I would gently take your shoulders and guide you backwards until your back was pressed into the wall behind you. I might run my hands as light as possible up and down these gorgeous arms and the entire time I'd have my mouth against yours in a soft, sensual kiss." Except for the kissing, he put his words into actions. Cupping her bare shoulders with his massive hands, he eased her back. His touch was surprisingly delicate and surprisingly made her heart race erratically. "I'd wrap your long, sexy legs around my waist and slowly, gently, slide my cock into you." He didn't follow through with that action. Instead, he ran his fingers over her thighs with a spider light touch calling every goose-bump on her legs to attention.

  When her back was against the wall, he leaned in close like he was going to kiss her and then moved abruptly to her ear. "But if I was going to fuck you." He gripped her thighs tightly and pushed his hips into her. "Maybe my hands would be rougher and there'd be nothing slow and gentle about my cock, but there'd be no shortage of passion. Every thrust, every touch would convey how fucking sexy I find you."

  Clearing her throat, she tried to ignore the heat building between her legs. "Your act is pretty good. I'm sure it drops a lot of panties." He yielded easily to her pathetic shove, but the motion only moved him half a step back. "Do you do puppet theater too?"

  "Only on Tuesdays. Coming to my next show?"

  "Only if you tell me what that thing is?" She pointed to what looked like a pair of metal icicles dangling from a hook on the wall.

  "Ah, the fangs." He pulled them down. Mounted on looped leather straps were two curved, stainless steel, extremely sharp looking teeth.

  "Is that what made the marks on that girl?"

  "Most likely."

  She unconsciously leaned closer to him to get a better look. "How do they work?"

  "You put them on, like so." He slipped his first and middle fingers through leather loops, and the pads of his fingers looked they'd grown a couple of metal fangs. "They're very sharp, so with very little pressure, you can easily pierce the skin." Interlacing the fingers of his free hand into her hair, he very gently tilted her head to the side. He traced the curved line of her neck with the tips o
f the fangs. "Most like to be pierced on the neck right about here." He paused about two inches above her collarbone.

  "Does it hurt?" Her breath caught halfway down her throat. She couldn't seem to control herself when he was so close, no matter how hard she tried.

  "I don't think you'll notice or care," he murmured into her ear. "But just in case, I'll only use one fang."

  "Okay." Her lungs no longer worked. Along with the rest of her body, they were clenched tight in anticipation. She could think of nothing but him: the rock hard bulk of his body next to her, the warmth of his breath on her neck… When the metal fang pierced her skin, a rush of energy jumped to her core. She could practically feel her clit swell, and the light cotton fabric of her panties rubbing against it was almost enough to make her come.

  Slade gripped at her hips. "I can't wait to taste you," he growled.

  Neither could she. She wanted to feel his mouth on her neck, wanted his tongue licking at her blood. Her entire body was quivering with that desire. Even if she wanted to deny him, there was no way her body was going to let her.

  Tilting her head even further to expose more of her neck, she whispered, "Do it. Drink me."

  A moan slid from the back of his throat as his lips covered the small puncture mark dripping blood down her neck. As his tongue lapped at the escaping blood, the hand with the strap-on fangs locked in her hair while the other hand explored the curve of her body, moving lower and lower until his fingers pressed against her throbbing clit. She rolled her hips against the touch, the circling pressure sending sharp jolts of electricity up her spine.

  "You are so fucking hot," he moaned. Pushing his hips hard into the side of her ass, his cock was now a huge, rock hard mass. He wrapped his lips over the curve of her neck, sucking harder on the skin. The pressure on her clit increased and between the overwhelming sensations of his mouth on her neck, his dick grinding against her and his fingers on her sex, she was about to explode. When one thick finger slid under the edge of her panties and into her, she nearly did.

  "Goddamn, your pussy is so wet and slick," he thrust the finger deeper into her, rubbing his thumb over her clit. "I can't wait to be inside you."

  The orgasm screaming to be released suddenly snapped her brain to attention. What the hell was she doing?

  "What are you doing?" she yelled at him instead. How did she let herself get into this situation?

  He paused. "Um…"

  Shoving him back, she hissed, "Get off me." He stepped back, looking completely confused. "I'm not the type of girl who gets fingered in the back of a bar."

  "I'm sorry…? I'll stop, I mean, I thought you were on board."

  "Well I'm not." Squirming, she tried desperately to get around him without touching him. Her brain and body reeling, she had to get as far away from him as possible. "I gotta go."

  "Kate wait, you're still bleeding. Let me at least clean you up."

  She touched the wet wound on her neck. "I'm fine. It's fine."

  She'd made it to the door and had the knob in her hand when she foolishly glanced back at him. He had the most befuddled, puppy dog expression on his handsome, Italian face and even through the loose fabric of his slacks, she could still clearly see the outline of his erect, generously sized cock.

  A fresh wave of wetness seeped into her panties. "I'm sorry, I…" Worried she might say or do something stupid again, she didn't finish the sentence. Yanking the door open, she bolted through it before she had a chance to change her mind.

  * * * *

  Slade blinked at the gaping door in utter confusion.

  His dick throbbed angrily at her abrupt exit and as Kate's sweet scent wafted up from the finger that had been inside her exquisite silk interior, it bucked violently against his pants.

  "Fuck that," he muttered and quickly washed his hands. Not that he wouldn't have minded smelling her all night, but the last thing he needed to fight for the rest of his shift was a raging hard-on.

  What went wrong? It wasn't like she hadn't been receptive. The way she'd rolled her perfect ass against him and that slick, wet pussy was pretty powerful evidence she'd been as turned on as him. So why the fuck had she run out like an accosted teenage girl? Two more seconds and she would've been coming all over his hand.

  He shifted uncomfortable as his cock twitched again. Goddamn. Those soft, creamy thighs, her perfect pale skin, the way she whimpered softly as he took her sweet blood…he was ready to crawl out of his skin to be near her again. No amount of soap could erase the memory and just thinking about those two seconds he'd been inside her were making him want to blow his load.

  "Sorry about the redhead." Slade had been too distracted to notice Satin join him.

  "Yeah, me too." He was way more disappointed than he should be. Kate was just one woman in a sea of them.

  But that was a load of crap and he knew it. He might not be a stranger to casual encounters with the opposite sex — random hookups were easy in this profession, and within the Community — but he was no longer a casual blood drinker and hadn't been since he left his twenties behind. That he'd found the temptation of drinking from Kate too enticing to resist said loads about her appeal.

  "I'll make you forget all about her." Satin was now pressed against him but he ignored her. With Kate running out like the building was on fire or some shit, Satin sliding up and down his side like he was a greased up stripper pole was the least of his concerns.

  Maybe he'd come on too strong or too fast. Things had gotten carried away pretty quickly. But Kate was the one who offered her blood, and she certainly hadn't resisted any of his other advances. If he'd thought for one minute she wasn't as turned on as he was, he would have quit. No problem.

  But for her to protest she was somehow "not that type of girl" was just fucking ridiculous. They were both consenting adults. From where he stood, a little heavy petting in the back of a bar was not that big of a deal. There was a lot worse that went on in this room.

  In fact, his cock had somehow left his pants and Satin's mouth was all over it.

  He jerked back, surprised by how wrong the act felt. As hard as Kate had left him, he should be welcoming a random, friendly mouth hug, not disgusted by it. Now if it were Kate's full lips wrapped around his dick…

  What the fuck was wrong with him?

  From Satin's baffled expression, she was obviously wondering the same thing. "What's the matter?"

  He quickly tucked the escaped member back into the safety of his slacks. "Just not into it tonight," he mumbled, unsure what else to say.

  "What?" She practically snapped the word from her lips. Rising from her knees, she glared at him from under her heavy, black bangs. "It's the redhead isn't it?"

  "I gotta get back to work." Taking her shoulder, he firmly but gently guided her out of the room, pulling the door closed behind them. "Some other time perhaps." He said it but seriously doubted it. At the moment, there was only one woman's mouth he wanted on his cock. It was a weird concept for Slade. After all, he'd only begun considering a steady, monogamous relationship six months ago.

  Kate had the potential to change that and he didn't like it, especially since she appeared to be quite the head-case. If one minor encounter with her was making him refuse oral sex from other women, he was fucked.

  Chapter Seven

  Kate couldn't figure out what the hell was wrong with her. After breezing past Melanie to say good-bye and grab her purse, she sped home as quickly as her knee-high boots would allow. She immediately jumped in the shower, turning the cold up all the way, and the hot up just enough to take the bite out of the temperature. Her overheated body needed something to cool it down and hopefully, the cold water would snap a little focus into her confused brain.

  Her body's reaction to Slade was inexplicable. All those engorged muscles told her he had more testosterone than brains, and while some women might find his giant monkey paws, and thick, sausage-like fingers sexy, all Kate saw were digits that probably lacked fine motor skills,
like the ability to use a pencil.

  Of course, they'd felt damn good pressed against her clit. And his index finger was better endowed than one of her ex's. As well as his finger had filled her, she could only imagine how deliciously stretched she'd be with his cock inside her. And all that testosterone just made him smell like sex…

  With a hard twist on the faucet, she slammed the hot off. This was ending right now. Yes, she could admit he was good looking and all those hard, bulging muscles had a certain masculine appeal, and the multiple orgasms he would probably give her would be mind-blowing, but she wasn't into it and never would be. She'd take intellect and sensitivity any day over sexed up man-candy.

  Besides, she'd learned her lesson when it came to jocks her Junior year of high school. As the freckle-faced redhead who preferred art and poetry to makeup and football, she was perpetually at war with the popular kids, which her quarterback brother and cheerleader sister were both members of. Her brother had this friend, Tyler, who had relentlessly teased her since third grade. He was absolutely jaw-dropping gorgeous. He had brown hair, green eyes and these fabulous dimples. One day while hanging out at her parent's house, he approached her and admitted he'd always had a secret crush on her. She was blown away and completely swept off her feet. It was like any movie from the '80s staring Molly Ringwold.

  They shared a kiss — and a lot more — in her bedroom: Marilyn Manson and Perry Ferrel watching from their paper perches. Kate was ecstatic, truly on cloud nine. It wasn't until she went to school the next day that she learned why she should avoid jocks. Sharing was apparently one of Tyler's strengths and Kate was immediately labeled a slut who happily sucked dick.

  It was a label that plagued her all the way to college. Girls treated her like she had some sort of contagious whore disease and guys went out of their way to belittle her in public, while trying to get a piece of her in private. The only clique which both accepted and understood her was the Goth kids, and she happily passed up homecoming, prom and cheerleading practice to immerse herself in all night coffee and cigarette parties at Denny's.