by Moore, E. M.
“I can’t now,” he said, breathless. “It’s not in my nature. I see something. I take it.”
His hips circled against my ass, and his hand came up to fondle my breast again. “Simon,” I said, a warning in my voice. I knew I had nothing to go on though. He had the upper hand, and he knew it. It was obvious how much I wanted him.
“Such perfect breasts,” he purred. “I’m used to having my way, Delilah. There are girls like you back home. We use them for fucking and feeding. We take their blood and revel in their bodies.”
“That’s sick,” I spat.
“They love us,” he murmured, his lips by my ear, sending a shiver up my spine. “We saved them.”
“They’re prisoners,” I said. He dipped two fingers inside me this time, and I bit hard on my lip to keep from crying out. My legs widened on instinct for better access as I fought against the emotions rolling through me. My body reacted, wanting everything Simon was giving me and then some.
He pushed on my back, his hand clamping inside my pussy for leverage as he bent me over. His cock moved between my legs. Oh fuck. This was it. He was really going to do it.
He removed his fingers and pushed inside in one solid stroke. He let out an animalistic growl as my insides clenched him. It was like the purest ecstasy, but fury rang through me at the same time. He’d just penetrated me without my permission. Fucking asshole. “No!” I screamed.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Simon said as his movements lengthened. He pulled out of me and then sank deep inside. My knees buckled. He whirled me around until the arm of the sofa was in front of me. I clasped onto it as he fucked me.
“No,” I said, moving back against him when he came forward. He was not going to do this against my will. I was going to take everything I wanted from him and more. It felt fucking fantastic.
I bucked against him and Simon groaned.
That’s it, I told myself. I was going to make him want me. I was going to make him regret doing this to me. I was Delilah Greene. Shit like this didn’t happen to me.
“Sweet fucking pussy,” he purred.
“Uh-huh,” I said, moving against him.
He tweaked my nipple, and I cried out. I grimaced, moving against him harder.
“Fuck, Delilah. You want it like that. Hold the fuck on, baby.”
He wasn’t kidding. His thick cock pounded into me. I grasped the sofa, my nails digging into the material. For every rush of pleasure, I pushed against him harder, making him want me more than I wanted him. Fuck him. This was about me.
The sofa started to move with his barrage. My breasts bounced in front of me as he took us both higher and higher. “Simon!”
My body was so close to the edge, I was flirting with the oncoming orgasm. He was fucking me so hard it was a wonder I didn’t rip in half, but part of that was my fault. For everything he gave me, I gave it right back, moving forcefully against him at the same time he came forward.
His fist gripped my hair and yanked. At the same time, I arched my back, and he slid even deeper than before. I went running off the edge, crashing down in a flurry of pleasure. My insides clenched his hard cock as I screamed my release. He followed soon after, his head coming down to sink his fangs into my shoulder, which sent me into another spiraling orgasm.
I moved my ass against him, milking all his cum from him until he shuddered and released my shoulder. He stood over me, his chest caressing my back with every deep breath he took. Then, he pulled out and walked away. I looked up to see him moving toward the hallway, his shoulders tense. I fell onto the couch cushions, gulping in breaths.
For fuck’s sake. That was the best sex I ever had. Dried blood caked my thighs and arms from earlier. Even now, I could feel the trickle of blood springing up from my shoulder and running down my breast. I lay against the couch, almost in a dream-like state as I waited for my body to calm itself.
God, I fucking hated him.
Chapter Seven
Simon
Delilah’s blood—and her body—called to me from the other room while I sat on the edge of the bed in the lone bedroom in the suite. I hadn’t even bothered to tie her up again. With the way I fucked her, she wouldn’t be able to walk properly for a couple days anyway let alone leave the room. Not that she’d even want to anymore.
My fingers trembled. I clamped my hands together to stop the tremors. What the fuck was wrong with me? I hadn’t done that to prove anything. I’d done that because I wanted to. I’d done that because sinking so deep inside her was the only thing I could think about.
It didn’t matter. All this meant was that instead of sparing her life at the end of all this, she had to die too. I could take her to Galen at the end of this so she could become a feeder, the thing she automatically rejected straight out, though she didn’t seem to mind when my fangs struck her. She’d be great at it. But my body rejected that idea. I wasn’t taking her there.
Fuck me. I should’ve never let it get that far, but the desire for her overcame me and sticking to the plan was the last thing I wanted to do. She’d tried to deny that she wanted me, and I couldn’t let her get away with that.
I glanced at the cell phone I’d managed to grab from the floor when I left the room. Her grandfather still hadn’t called. I’d slipped out earlier while she slept to check the perimeter of the hotel. No one watched us. No one surrounded the hotel to free her. How disappointing. I hadn’t even made it that difficult to hide where I was staying. If the old man had tried at all, he’d have figured it out by now. He could’ve sent people to get her even if he refused to take his own life to save his granddaughter’s. Whatever way he decided to play this, I was ready. But the fact that he hadn’t decided at all was fucked up.
That pretty thing in there waited on him though. She thought he’d come for her no matter what. That was where her confidence came from. Her confidence to try to escape. Her confidence that she could withstand my cock. She thought she was going to be saved just like she’d always been.
It was time to pull out all the stops I had. Evidently, I had to take things further to try to induce him to do fucking something in response.
I grabbed the video camera I’d purchased at the corner store the other day and walked from the room. Delilah slept soundly on the sofa, her dark hair in tangles around her. I wondered if it even passed her mind that she wasn’t tied up anymore. Stupid girl.
I set the camera down on the counter next to the little kitchenette and hit record. Then, I ran the faucet, filling up a glass of water before returning to Delilah’s side. “Think I won’t hurt her?” I asked, looking at the camera. Then, I threw the water at her face.
She awoke with a jerk, gasping for air. She sat straight up, staring at me. She lashed out, her hand thrusting toward my abdomen, but I grabbed it and twisted. She still didn’t have any clothes on and her naked body was on full display. Perhaps Greenie would get the message then. The longer he refused to cooperate, the more trouble she’d be in.
“What the fuck?” Delilah cried, water still running down her face.
“Time to wake up,” I said, my words clipped. “Guess who still hasn’t called?”
I angled my head toward the camera and Delilah looked over. She glared at it and sat back, ripping her hand from my grip. She crossed her arms over her chest, sparing her grandfather her nakedness.
She really shouldn’t have bothered. It was about to get even worse in here. Though, I had to give her credit for being feisty. My dick twitched in my pants.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” she said, choking on her words.
“Aren’t you a good granddaughter?” I asked. “Or is there a reason why he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about you?”
She glared up at me, tears already at the surface. Her once beautifully straight hair was oily and now plastered to her head with the water I’d thrown at her. “I thought he loved me,” she said, her voice breaking.
“You’re just not doing enough,” I said. It was a ridiculous thing
to say at that moment, but it was the first thing to pop in my head.
“Maybe you’re not doing enough,” she snapped.
I lifted my hand and struck her.
She gasped, her hand immediately covering her cheek again. She glared at me as if I’d just backstabbed her. If that were the case, she had no idea what betrayal was. One release of my cum inside her didn’t mean shit.
“Fuck you.”
“I’m going to disfigure her, Greenie. The only thing she has going for her is her looks, and she’s about to be the ugliest bitch you’ve ever seen.”
“No,” Delilah said, her voice trembling. Her gaze tracked from me to the video camera and back again.
I reached out. She tried to slap my hand away, but it only felt like annoying gnats. She was no match for me.
Revenge would still be mine. If I couldn’t get Greenie to send me his dead body, I could take away something he loved just like he’d taken away something I’d loved all those years ago. Then, I would kill him. At the end of all this, he didn’t get to live. No, death was always in his future. There was no escaping it.
My claws broke through my fingers’ surface and lengthened. I raked them down her cheeks in one neat motion. Blood dripped onto her naked chest and Delilah started crying immediately. The tears mixed with her blood, making a pink mixture as it fell to her chest and thighs and then rolled onto the couch.
Well, fuck. I was going to have to replace this damn thing too before all this was over.
My fangs ached. The smell of her blood was overwhelming. They strained to break through to get their rightful taste. I’d already claimed Delilah. She was mine.
I groaned in frustration, then took a handful of her hair and forced her head back. Leaning over her, I bared her throat, then used my claws to slit a line across her skin there.
She started to choke, probably more from fear than anything else. The cut hadn’t been deep enough to kill, just damage her perfect skin.
Within the next half hour, I clawed her entire body while she wept. Her spirit was broken. Eyes lifeless, she just sat there while I did so, choking on sobs and sometimes wailing. When I was done with her, she looked like a badly sewn puppet. Then, I turned toward the camera. “I’m giving you twenty-four hours, Greenie. Then, it’ll be her body I send to you. And you still won’t get away with it either. I know where you live. I was able to get to Delilah, wasn’t I? After her, you’re next.”
“Please,” Delilah said, her voice catching. I turned in time to see her reach out.
I spun and walked to the camera, giving the red blinking light my best scowl. When I shut it off, I turned toward the bloody mess I’d just made.
“Please,” Delilah said again.
It took me a moment to realize she hadn’t been talking to her grandfather at all. She’d reached out for me, begged me. “Please, what?” I snapped.
“Don’t hurt me.”
I laughed. “It’s too late for that. You’re hideous.”
“No,” she said, her chin quivering. She tried to pull herself to a sitting position. Her knees quaked as she moved closer to the edge of the sofa.
“What are you doing?”
She ignored me. Finally, she pulled herself to her feet, but when she took one step, she buckled. She would’ve hit the floor hard, but I snatched her up.
“What?”
“I want to see,” she said. Her hands came up to her face, smearing the blood there. Some of the cuts were already starting to dry. Caked red crust came off on her wet fingertips which induced another round of hysterics. “What did you do to me?”
“It’s called revenge.”
“Revenge?” She finally looked up at me. “I never did anything to you. I don’t even like what my grandfather does for a living.”
“But you know about it,” I seethed.
She shook her head.
I threw her back onto the couch. “And what does he do, Delilah? Explain it to me.”
“He runs the biggest drug ring in and out of Philly,” she said, her voice heightening along with her anger. “He’s basically a mob boss, a fucking Don Corleone.”
She had it half right. On the surface, that’s what he did. It wasn’t a legitimate business, but it was a business. That wasn’t what I was talking about though. “He doesn’t just run drugs, Delilah,” I said, trying to make her see deeper into it. I knew I was no saint, but at least I was aware of what I did—what I was. “What does he do?”
“I just told you!” she screamed. “He distributes drugs to people in the area.”
“Then what?” I asked, charging right toward her. Fangs bared, I stopped mere inches from her face. She withdrew, and I snapped my mouth shut. Softer now, I asked, “Then what happens?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. What do you mean?”
“What happens after the drugs get into the hands of the people, Delilah?”
She shrugged. “They take them. I don’t know. That’s their business.”
“Fuck that. That’s a lame excuse. Then what happens?”
“I. Don’t. Know.”
Anger surged inside me. “I already told you one thing that happens. Mothers die. Kids are left without parents. Whole lives are disrupted. Do you think I’m the only fucking one who wants revenge against your grandfather for the hurt he caused? If you do, you’re lying to yourself. There could be hundreds lining up behind me to get their hands on him, and here you are, just fucking living off that money like it’s nothing.”
I pulled her hand to me, staring down at her fake nails. She tried to pull it back, but I gripped it tightly.
“Where’d you get these, huh?” I asked, flicking one of the perfectly shaped and colored nails.
“Don’t,” she seethed, trying to twist her hand away from me.
“I want to know. Where’d you get them?”
“The nail parlor. Of course.”
“Nope.” I ripped one of the nails from her fingers.
She screamed in agony.
“That was a bag of cocaine that got a businessman high. On his way home from work, he got into an accident, killing a hard-working father of three.” I grabbed another one.
“Don’t, please,” she said.
Her face was blotchy. Through the cuts I’d made on her face, I saw the makeup that had run from her eyes, making her look like an angel of death. She certainly looked nothing like the posh woman who stepped out of the black sedan the night I took her. I ripped the second nail off. “That was from a school teacher who fucking ruined her life after she got hooked on your grandfather’s drugs. Her husband divorced her and now she lives in an abandoned factory downtown and gets raped every fucking night by the homeless guys, but she’s too fucked up to stop them.”
One-by-one, I ripped her nails off, telling her every fucking story I could remember about how her grandfather’s drugs ruined people. These weren’t just tales I made up on the spots. These were the ones I remembered as a child. The ones that stayed with me all these years as regaled to my mother from the other high, lost souls on the street.
I saved my story for last. She’d already heard it before, but it was worth telling again and again. She needed to understand why I was doing this.
Fat tears tracked down her cheeks. “But I didn’t do anything,” she sobbed.
“You hold yourself high with his blood money!” I roared.
“You’re not some princess, Delilah. You’re a fucking money whore.”
I slid the fly down on my jeans and forced them to the floor along with my boxers. I shoved my hard cock in her face.
She spat at me.
I moved my hands to her jaw, forcing it open and my cock inside. “You’re just a whore, an ugly one at that. Suck my cock.”
She looked up at me. Her jaw twitched, and I grabbed it fiercely before she could even think about biting down. Holding it there, I slid in and out of her mouth. I fucked her until she gagged on me, but I didn’t relent.
“All th
at money…the blind eye you gave to your grandfather’s business…it made you just like them. Someone who would do anything for their next hit without a care as to where it came from. That’s all you turned out to be. A rich junkie.”
I kept going until her mouth closed and her eyes fluttered into the back of her head.
She grabbed my ass and yanked me forward, taking all of me in.
“Fuck yes.”
She moaned, her tongue teasing my tip. The blood from her hands teased my skin wherever she touched, heightening my pleasure.
“Tell me,” I said as I ran my hand through her hair.
“I’m ugly,” she said, lapping me up. “I’m a whore. I’m a terrible person.”
Her hand came up to play with my balls. “That’s right,” I said, coaxing her on.
The more she played and sucked, the higher my balls drew up. At length, I grabbed her neck and held her to me as I spasmed inside her hot little mouth. She gobbled it up like I was fucking Thanksgiving dinner. Before I was spent, I pushed her away and came on her chest, rivulets spurting from my tip down to her bloody skin.
She stared up at me wide eyed. The innocence on her face wasn’t lost on me. There was terror there, and sadness. I swallowed, my conscience eating at me.
I looked away before I started feeling bad for her. She’d enabled her grandfather to do the kinds of things he did. No one told him it was wrong, so why would he stop? If just one person had told him that what he did was bad, maybe he would’ve decided to do something different. Maybe all those years ago when his son died and he was left with a beautiful granddaughter, but no. Money and power was everything to him.
She stared at me, her gaze narrowing, almost calculatingly so. It was as if she could see right down to my very soul. I wasn’t one to preach, but I knew what I was. I did what I did and soaked up every minute. I didn’t do it and then pretend I was something different, or put on rose-colored glasses, deciding to see what I did through prettier colored lenses. Nope. I was a fucking vamp. Evil was in my nature, and so was taking what I could get when I could get it. Right now, I still wanted nothing but revenge, even if it meant fucking up the mind of this enabler.