Her mind sank, deeper and deeper into the hurtful bliss that was oblivion. He continued to pound into her, his cock harder, longer than any mortal, his movements impossibly fast. He still talked, spoke to them like before- his mind was less controllable; he couldn't choose to look into his victims head, he just saw what they wanted. Deep dark desire, brought forth into the world in mortal form.
He was taking her viciously from behind, as he had been for the last several hours. His hand was wrapped in her long blonde hair, forcing his cock into her harder and harder, his ever thrust forced ever deeper by her body bucking back onto him. He pulled harder; the mixture of her pain and pleasure was intoxicating. He felt alive, more than he had for a long time.
Six months had passed, since he had last seen Cassie and Michelle. He hoped they were well, but they were images, concepts of a life he had lost, that he could no longer live. Pictures of morals he could no longer stand up to. Words in a book that was no longer his own.
She had come more times than he could count. She just kept erupting around his ever hard cock, over and over and over. His body reacted to hers, his cock even bigger than it had been when he was turned. He noticed that his form changed as he willed it, moulding to how he wanted to look. Now he found that his cock had lengthened, grown to make it just a touch bigger than this girl wanted. When she had seen it, she shivered. He pulsed, remembering.
She was so aloof, so gorgeous, standing at the bar. She was a cliché; her long flowing hair touching her slender shoulders lightly, just setting off her long black dress. She stood there, champagne glass in hand, wanting. He could feel her envy, stronger than if it was his own. She longed to be rich to have everything that riches could give her. She was poor, the dress not her own, there on loan from a friend. She was not overly smart, but she was good. Honest. She appealed to the devil in him.
He walked over to her, reading the way he looked to her from her mind. Where before he was roughly middle sized, now he towered over everyone, standing at just below seven feet. He was broader, but he carried the muscle with both ease and distain. But she marvelled at the way he moved; catlike, graceful, completely without a sound.
She saw the cut of his suit jacket and shirt, took in the cufflinks- he never needed to buy any, being able to charm anything he needed. He stroked the warmth she felt; this man was more than rich, he was obscene.
Mark walked over and looked straight into her eyes without saying anything. She fell into them, her own dark brown falling into the deep blackish red. His eyes had muted from the deep crimson, as though the evil within him forced them to harden, to dull. She noted the colour without truly taking it in. He was what she wanted; he saw his own body behind hers, thrusting harder and harder, in her mind. He saw her bound to her headboard, screaming out as she came.
He hadn't needed to say anything to her. He held out his hand, and led her to a taxi. She hadn't even struggled; not that they normally did, and even then, it made it even better sometimes. He pushed her back roughly, against the seat. He felt her discomfort as aphrodisiac.
"The nearest decent hotel, please." He requested of the driver, as he leant down, over her body, covering her from view. She was nervous, hot and cold, tense. She wasn't normally this forward, and he was sexy, but he was strange, his movements quick and almost frightening. He fed off her fear, holding his weight off her, running his mouth over hers. She forgot her fear quickly, forgot her misgivings. She wrapped her arms around his head, pulling his mouth hard on to hers. He felt her need for violence, and reciprocated in kind. He pulled the top of her dress down, scratching at her skin. She felt the pain, but his touch thrilled her. His mouth was insistent on hers, demanding.
Her legs were either side of his body, and she longed for him in her. It had been a while, and she wanted it before she went out, but now she was beyond waiting, beyond caring that she was in the back of a taxi with a complete stranger.
He pushed his hand between them, running his nails ungently over her inner thigh. She arched her back, almost as though she wanted him to stop, but she moaned, and bit his ear. Lifting up her dress, he tore at her panties, and placed his right palm low on her back, just above where her ass ended. She gasped; she had no idea she was that sensitive there, or at all on her ass.
He wasn't finished either. He ran his hands firmly over her thighs, pressing his nails firmly into the skin, and she bit her lip from the pain. She was aware of the heat she could feel building between her legs, the desire for him mounting inside her body. She was begging into his ear, "Please, please fuck me now, PLEASE!!"
The taxi stopped, and the driver turned around.
"The Hilton. Now, get the FUCK outa my cab!! I'm charging you twenty more!"
Mark lifted his blood red eyes to the driver. He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"
He got out, leading the girl the whole time. He didn't speak to the driver again, and the driver didn't get out. Mark caught the driver's fear. He was petrified. Mark smiled, clenching his teeth. The girl shivered again, and he saw her looking at him, and only really seeing for the first time.
