Frea

Freak

By Free the Dancing Llamas

Chapter 2: The Good Thing About Waiting

————

Maybe I'm having a mental break. But the next night, like clockwork I'm in the vampire's room.

Like the night before it starts out in a similar way. I enter the room, he sits on the couch and I sit between his legs. He puts an arm around my waist and one around my throat and he drinks from me.

You'd think I'd be used to it after the two previous nights, but no. Again I'm sighing and wriggling all over the place and occasionally he adjusts his grip, squeezing my throat tighter, making it hard for me to breath. When it becomes almost too much, he seems to know and releases, hand trailing to stroke and play with my breasts until I'm mad with need. Tonight seems different in one way, the drinking feels slower. It feels like he's taking his time, not drinking as quickly and it means that his hands are on me longer, driving me wild.

Again I'm surprised that the tension and grip of my neck is apparently something I want, my pussy is sopping by the time he's done feeding. When he releases me, he doesn't quite let me leave, a large hand clasps my shoulder and he turns me to face him.

I can't stop the trembling, he's intimidating, not exactly the picture of kind and gentle. The eyes and fangs are really the least of my concern when you consider the size of him. Seriously, what did this man

eat

before he was turned into a vampire? How is he so

big

?

Of course, more to the point: what does he want with me? Why is this so weird? Why can't I do or say anything in his presence? Why does he keep touching me when I haven't given him permission? Why do I keep

yearning

for it?

Suddenly, he's pushing me over until I'm face down on his lap, ass sticking up in the air. I realise he's pulling the fabric of my dress up, large hand smoothing over my underwear to caress me through the fabric.

"W-what are you doing?" I manage, now finally able to find my voice. His fingers continue, unwavering in their conquest, dipping past my underwear to explore my pussy.

"You always this fuckin' wet, or is that an honour only I get?" He asks, completely ignoring my question. His voice is deep and rough, like he doesn't use it much. I also think this might be the longest sentence he's ever spoken to me.

"You shouldn't be touching me," I manage through gasps, as large fingers swirl over my nub and push back to delve between slick walls. I can feel my nipples poking through my bra, desperate for touch.

"Why? Your cunt is so nice," he dips two large fingers into my entrance deeply, and I can't help but sigh. He adds, "And tight."

I cannot believe he's just said that to me. I can't believe that I like that he's said that to me. What. The. Hell.

"Stop it!" I try wriggling away. except it's half hearted, more out of duty. I sort of want him to keep going, I want to see what happens next. The shame burns through me and I wonder just how far I will fall for this man's touch.

"Stop?" His voice is a laugh, rough like he doesn't do it much, "Maybe you'd prefer something with a different flavour, then?"

It's a question I have no intention of answering. Besides, I have no idea what he means, but then a large whack stings my bottom and I realise he's just hit me. He rubs the tender flesh, soothing it in a surprisingly gentle way, then gives another hard whack to my rear.

"Ow!" I yelp, followed by an embarrassingly loud moan, when his soothing fingers come to dip into my core. I swear he's laughing at me, but I can't hear over the sounds of the blood rushing though my ears.

Another three smacks follow in quick succession and then he's back to soothing me, large hand gently caressing my hot flesh.

"You have the most perfect ass I've ever seen," He sighs, fingers caressing my folds, I know I'm leaking everywhere, I know I'm dripping fluids at a rate that should be embarrassing.

"No," I say obviously delayed and out of my head, "Let me go."

"Do you really want that?" he asks, I can feel his cock poking into my stomach and all I want is for him to shove it inside of me, maybe while he's choking me again. I'm an utter mess.

"I didn't think so," he replies, as if he can read my mind. He smacks me again, this time, his assault reaches my pussy with a painful jolt, and it sends a tremor through my body.

I'm fairly sure I've just shouted, "Oh God, yes," I can feel my thighs flex and clench in pleasure.

I am officially brain dead. Is there no end to my humiliation? No end to my body's betrayal?

Another series of smacks and I'm certain my body is on fire. I can feel little tears at the corner of my eyes, and I'm not sure if it's from the pain or the desire. I need completion like I need air.

Then his hand is back to soothing, smoothing over flesh, dipping between my thighs, stroking my ass and clit. I try to clench my thighs together, but his hands stop me, they have complete control and they keep me spread. It makes me hot, makes me moan; gasp. I can't keep it in, none of it.

I love this, I love what he's able to do to me in a matter of minutes. It has me on the edge like only this vampire seems to be able to do. If he keeps touching me like this, I know i'll find release. But then...

Then it stops, all of it.

He pulls my underwear and dress back in place, positioning me back up so that I'm sitting on his lap, facing him. It's a surprisingly gentle experience.

"What?" my mouth mutters.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, Lilith."

He knows my name

. He knows my name and I don't know his. My brain is feeble after his assault and I pretty much blurt that out.

"You know my name. I don't know yours." I'm annoyed with myself, who is this imposter who has taken over my brain?

He brushes a thumb across my lower lip, places a kiss on my neck and asks;

"Are you usually in the business of sleeping with men you don't know the names of?"

If I wasn't frustrated as hell and feeling disoriented I know I would have had some sassy, snappy comment to return. But all I do is frown.

He's done torturing me, thankfully though because he continues to talk.

"My name's Elian," he says after a pause, then places another kiss on my shoulder before patting my ass and saying, "Alright then, thanks for the blood. I'll see you tomorrow."

Off I go. because I'm like a zombie. Three nights I've fed this man and I still can't seem to get a grip on myself around him.

————

It's my fourth night of feeding the vampire - Elian. I can't bring myself to make eye contact with him.

After what happened last night, I feel mortified. I let some blood-sucking stranger pull me over his knee and touch me in the most intimate of places (AGAIN!). God, the evening before last night, I let him fuck me in the ass and give me two of the most fulfilling and powerful orgasms I've ever had in my life. Being with him is weird and confusing, but also exciting and that scares me most of all.

Because really, the definition of amazing sex shouldn't be:

it was barely consensual and involved being strangled while being pounded in my barely lubricated ass

...should it? Is that okay? Is it okay that I enjoyed it so much I masturbated twice this morning thinking about it?

Well...and thinking about other things too. Like being tied up, held down, maybe even tossed around a bit...the more my imagination ran with it, the weirder things got. Like, do I want to be strangled so hard I pass out? I don't fucking know but it sounded kind of hot when I thought about it. Do I want to be spanked so hard it leaves marks? Maybe.

What the hell is

wrong

with me? I'm not some kind of honey bunny that gets off on humiliation and submission. I mean, isn't there a prerequisite for that kind of thing? Like, I don't have a history of abuse or domestic violence...or anything. But then maybe those are just assumptions, biases based on things I've never understood or had a chance to explore with anyone before.

It's all so confusing and the main thing I remind myself of is: I'm just an average girl. Who may or may not want to be blindfolded and spanked so hard she cries, by a controlling, aggressively sexual tyrant.

All of this is spinning around my head constantly, and I find myself frustrated and angry with the man who I am convinced has caused this...this sickness in me. So this evening, I show up, and I remember that tonight I will use my damn words. Tonight I will be on top.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, mister," I say, hands on hips, pretending to be very brave and tough.

I am an alpha

, I remind myself.

I am an alpha werewolf from an alpha werewolf clan.

"Good evening to you too," He says, one eyebrow raised mockingly, barely glancing at me over his shoulder, eyes focused on the book in front of him.

He just continues reading and I cannot believe he's just ignored me like this.

"Hey," I say, "We need to talk," I'm hoping I sound authoritative, but maybe I just sound shrill and scared.

No reply from him, he's now texting on his phone. If I were braver I'd go up to him, take his stupid phone and throw it out of the window.

"Right," I decide I can't be bothered anymore. First thing I'm going to do is leave this room, find Eric and tell him I am not feeding this guy anymore. Second thing I'm going to do is having a long-ass shower and cleanse myself of the sickness this guy has infected me with.

So I leave. I turn on my heel, open the door and walk right out of there, slamming the door behind me with dramatic effect.

I make my way to the common area and find Eric who is busy talking to Michelle. They're obviously having another one of their monumental fights and I realise now is not the time to talk to the King.

"Shouldn't you be feeding the vampire?" Eric snaps, looking over at me, like I'm a complete waste of space.

"He's a prick and I'm not in the mood," I say haughtily. I am amazed at my sudden confidence, maybe being a scared little pup is something I only do with Elian? I don't know.

Eric surprisingly doesn't fight me on it, "Sure, whatever. I'll send Mercy through."

Mercy looks up and nods, "Sure, no worries".

I look at Mercy and her voluptuous figure and gorgeous face, I think about her wild intelligence and boss-bitch attitude and nod; yeah she's probably more suited to the role. Not sure how I feel about Mercy feeding Elian though. I should feel satisfied, this is what I wanted.

I feel bitter and resentful, I realise, of Mercy. Mercy who is the nicest person I've met here, who is beyond lovely. Who is willing to take my place with the beast. Why should I be resentful of her? Because, I guess I'm secretly insecure about the fact that she's everything I'm not, and probably would have someone like Elian under her thumb, while I flail like a limp noodle.

"Thank you, Eric, Mercy." I nod.

"Oh, Lil," Eric says, eyes staring pointedly at Michelle while he's speaking to me. Which is freaking weird and rude, "I was wanting us to go on a date. I know it's last minute but I was thinking we could go out to dinner at

Padecci's

."

Holy Shit,

Padecci's

is the nicest place in the damn country. It's a hatted restaurant and famous. You can't get in without a year's reservation or unless you're the Prime Minister. I realise the date was probably for him and Michelle, but considering the fight I interrupted, I suspect I've just been pulled into it.

"Ah, sure." I say, because really, that's what I'm supposed to day, "Better go put something on that isn't jeans then."

"Do you have anything that's even remotely nice?" Michelle snaps bitterly.

"You can borrow one of mine!" Mercy smiles enthusiastically. Looks like she's taking the opportunity to leave the room and grabs me by the arm and drags us both out. I know by the look in her eyes she's just as relieved to be out of there as I am.

Why Michelle and Eric constantly choose the Clan forum to argue in front of the other wolves is beyond me.

————

After I gratefully borrow a dress from Mercy, I manage to pop on some makeup and heels - by the time I'm done it's already time to leave. Eric drives us in, which is simultaneously a good and bad thing. The good being I don't have to drive, and therefore won't get lost. The bad part of that is that I can't make an easy escape if I need to.

The restaurant is even nicer than I imagined. It's got more waiters than customers and everyone is dressed so nicely. As we walk into the restaurant, I am mortified to notice that Elian - all 6foot whatever of him is seated at a table with some woman in the corner. She has blonde, shiny hair and narrow shoulders. I don't get a good look at her because one: her back is all I can see, two: I'm trying to ignore Elian and everything in his direction.

I wonder what the hell he's doing here. Vampire's don't eat food...do they? I'd always been told they only consumed blood to exist. And I wonder if God hates me, because it is bordering on ridiculous that he's at the exact same restaurant as me and Eric.

"You look nice," Eric says, as we take our seats.

"Thanks," I nod, trying to remember that when people are on a date, they make pleasant conversation.

Although it's hard on account of the fact when I turn my head to adjust my seat, I catch Elian glaring daggers at me from across the room - he looks like he just about wants to throttle me. Which is making me...making me all flushed. And also concerning. Mainly concerning.

I don't know why he's so mad. He gets an upgrade with Mercy, as far as I'm concerned. And if it's sex related, well I've no doubt in my mind that the woman he's on a date with tonight it going to solve that problem. From what I can see of her, she's all long-limbed and delicate.

Although maybe he isn't glaring at me. Maybe he just has a grumpy, intimidating face. Maybe he's looking at me because I keep looking at him like a psychopath.

"You zone out a lot, do you realise?" Eric's voice snaps me out of my day-dream.

"Sorry, Eric," I turn my attention back to him, "I've done it since I was a kid. What were you saying?"

"I was asking you how you're finding Brisbane?"

Shit. I'm finding it shit. Everyone's a bunch of assholes and I don't fit in. I don't find you attractive and I want to go home.

"Great," I smile, "I feel really lucky to be here. Although I am wondering how everyone is going back home at the clan."

"Sure, sure," Eric says in a way that makes me think that he, too, is daydreaming. We've barely started this date and neither of us can seem to give even a moment of attention to each other. Why are we even bothering, it makes me wonder?

"So this place, huh? It's pretty...pretty fancy," I give him my best smile, hoping he can't feel my anxiety. Or my horniness. Having Elian in the room reminds me of the fact that I didn't get to finish yesterday and I'm kind of still pissed off about that.

"Yeah," Eric mutters, looking at the menu, "You think

she'd

want to eat here."

"Sorry? You mean Michelle?" Is he really bringing Michelle up on a date where he's supposed to be impressing me?

Eric just looks at me in surprise, as if I've said something interesting, "How do you know about me and Michelle?"

Because it's obvious you dickhead.

As much as I want to say this, I refrain.

"Oh, women's intuition," I say, adding a girlish laugh, "I had a sense there was something between you two. Makes me wonder why I'm here, to be honest. You guys obviously mean something to each other."

Eric's face softens and I feel a tinge of guilt for the guy. It's clear to me that he loves her so much.

"She's...it's complicated. We don't need to talk about it. Let's talk about you. What do you like to do?" Eric says, fiddling with his napkin.

"Gardening, I like growing flowers," I nod, "And watching films, and other basic stuff everyone likes to do."

The conversation continues on in a boring fashion, and I remember that there's a reason we haven't attempted a date for a while. We order our meals, and make awkward conversation throughout the evening. It's a tradition of ours, apparently.

"Why do you think the air in aeroplanes is so weird?" I ask, poking an olive on my plate.

"I don't know." Eric looks dumbfounded by the question. Or maybe he thinks I'm dumb. I don't know.

"Maybe it's because it's so high in the sky," I offer. Still nothing from Eric, so I add, "Or because the air is compiled from other people's breath."

He looks at his phone and I swear to god there is relief written all over his face.

"Shit, I've got to go. Pack emergency," He flusters around, barely sounding worried.

"Oh, okay," I begin to grab my bag, Eric, I notice, looks almost relieved that this date is coming to an end.

"No, don't worry," he said, "You finish up. Take your time. four of the pups have let loose, I better go find them before they hurt a human or something."

"Sure okay," I nod, looking down at the delicious pasta.

I'm somewhat grateful I don't have to leave it, but also somewhat embarrassed that my date is leaving my like this. I realise, it's very possible I'm going to have to foot the entire bill for this place, which is going to set me back a lot. Working as a supermarket shelf stacker is not super lucrative as one might think. Especially when the manager dislikes you and doesn't give you many shifts.

————

I finish the last of my meal and get up to pay, only to realise that they bring the check to the table at fancy restaurants like this. So, embarrassed I sink to my chair and wait for the little booklet to arrive.

I practically want to gag, the bill reads $647.30. Oh my God. How can a meal for two people cost this much? We had two entrees, two mains, and a bottle of wine! I add up the sums in my head and realise that I'm not going to be able to afford to go out for like the next three months. This is ridiculous.

I nod to myself bravely, getting my credit card out. This is, possibly, the bravest I've ever been. I pray that my credit card limit will not let me down.

"Thank you, sir," I say to the waiter handing him my card in the fancy book. I give him a look of confidence, doing my best to hide my anxiety. I hope he doesn't realise that I'm a total imposter and do not belong in this fancy-ass restaurant.

Amazingly my card isn't declined and I hightail it out of there. I realise as soon as I exit the restaurant that I've now got to get a taxi back because the place is like an hour out of town. It's going to probably cost me another hundred bucks.

I want to groan and stomp my feat.

Bloody Eric leaving me here!

"You need a ride back?" I turn and my breath is stolen from me - it's

him

, the big-dicked, minimal word-speaking, blood-sucking fucker in the flesh. I mean, of course it's him. Who else is going to be waiting outside of a restaurant out of the millions of people in this city? Is it my poor luck or is it just coincidence? My life sometimes feels like it's a poorly written soap-opera.

"I'll just take a taxi, thanks," is my clipped reply. I take a deep breath and remember that I am a fancy lady, an alpha werewolf and someone who isn't flustered by assholes.

"Come on. I'll even throw in a free cocktail. We can stop by a bar, have a talk." He says, taking a long drag of a cigarette. That's interesting, why would a vampire smoke? habit maybe? He wouldn't really get anything from it.

"

Now

he wants to talk," I say to no one in particular, wrapping my arms around my shoulders.

"Yes, because now I'm not trying to sort out a ridiculously overcomplicated, bullshit alliance matter." I don't know what the hell he's talking about exactly, but it sounds like he's referring to the vampire/werewolf alliance. I frown at the information, trying to piece it together. Maybe he has something to do with it? But what else is there to sort out?