This is a sequel to my story "Out of the Night." I recommend you read that story first if you haven't already.
This story contains themes of NonCon and has a small bit of gore/blood. As always, thank you for all your feedback! I love to hear it! Enjoy...
...
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, dress puddled on the floor, dried blood in the fabric and across my abdomen. The blood was mine, though there was no wound. My fingers traced where the knife had gone in and pierced through my back. I could remember how it felt, painless but unbearable. I felt the blade cut my skin, slice through my organs, scrape across my spine. It should have killed me, but instead, the only evidence it had happened was some dried blood.
Damien's hand covered mine, stopping the path it had been tracing. I hadn't noticed him come in, but his presence no longer surprised me or caught me off guard. Our connection made it so that we were always aware of the other, if only subconsciously.
He stood behind me, wrapping his arms around me and burying his nose in my hair.
"I wasn't supposed to survive this. This feels... wrong..." I spoke my feelings out loud, hoping it would help sort them all out.
"I'm sorry, I know the feeling. It will pass." Damien continued to hold me and my gaze was drawn to the marks on our skin. The runes followed our anatomies, twisting into mesmerizing patterns that complemented the skin and muscles they lived on.
"Why does it feel so wrong?" I asked, confused why I didn't feel relieved to be alive. Instead I felt like I had been pulled out of whatever place I was supposed to exist in. I didn't belong here and my soul knew it. It pulled to be returned to wherever it was meant to be, but my body kept it firmly in place. The runes bound it to my body.
"All magic has a cost. When balance is found, you'll settle. It doesn't last." He moved so his lips were on my neck. "Let me distract you."
"Balance... Do you mean, do you mean someone else will be hurt?"
He didn't say anything, but the silence was answer enough.
I felt tears fill my eyes and whispered, "I don't want this Damien. This isn't right. I don't want to hurt anyone." He sighed into my shoulder.
"Existence is so short, and most of it hardly amounts to anything in the grand scheme of things, May. If another life is cut a little shorter to keep you alive, I'm fine with that."
I frowned at his reflection. "My life is no more valuable than anyone else's."
"You're mine." He stated, like it explained everything. "You can blame me if you want. I put the runes on your body, so their consequences rest on my shoulders. Not yours."
His hands moved from around my body to massage my shoulders. It felt so good after the tense events of the night. None of this sat well with me. Did he really put such a low value to the lives of others? But I was so tired, and his hands felt so good. I leaned into it, deciding I could contemplate all of this in the morning.
I let my mind drift, focusing on the feel of his hands loosening my muscles. His breath in my ear. The sweetened, earthy smell of his skin. Rough chin hair gently brushing against my jaw.
A leg pushed between my own. I let him move my legs apart as his hands moved down my body. He squeezed the fronts of my thighs, his thumbs moving in and brushing the crease between my legs and mons.
I was already wet, anticipating what he was about to do.
A thumb brushed against my lips and I felt his mouth against my cheek turn up in a smile.
"So ready for me. Even now."
I felt the blood rise to my cheeks, but he wasn't wrong. Instead of arguing, I leaned into his chest and pressed into his hands. I didn't want to think about it, so instead I encouraged him to get on with it, to stop teasing. It worked.
His hands pressed me back, rubbing my ass against his very hard, very naked cock.
I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts I hadn't even noticed he was also naked.
A long finger teased my folds before pressing into my core. It moved back out, returning again with a second finger. I moaned as he stretched me, getting me ready for him.
I ground into his cock, aching to be filled. "Please," I breathed.
He pushed me forward, my hands on the glass of the mirror, his cock poised to enter me. "Say it again," he demanded.
"Please!" I was near tears, the emotions of the past few hours threatening to break me down.
The pleasant stretching made me cry out as he entered me slowly, burying himself fully.
It hurt in the best way and I let the sensation push everything else away. Damien must have sensed what I wanted as he pulled almost all the way out. He slammed back into me, one arm of steel wrapped around my waist, the other tenderly playing with my breast.
"Tell me you want me," he demanded, fucking me hard against the mirror. When I didn't answer, he pinched my nipple. "Tell me."
"I want you!" I cried out. "Please, don't stop. I want you!" I was crying now, the tears wetting my cheeks. I didn't notice them until Damien leaned forward and used his tongue to wipe it away. "I won't stop. I'll never stop. You. Are. Mine." He punctuated the last words with three hard thrusts.
I felt his lips on my neck a fraction on a second after I felt his hunger, realizing it was more than just sexual hunger. There was nothing I could do to stop it, though I couldn't be sure that I would have tried.
Teeth scraped against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. The sharp pain of the bite was immediately overpowered by the feelings of lust. My whole body burned with it, and I spasmed around his cock. I was completely lost to sensation, and my climax peaked, drawn out as I felt Damien feed from me.
His moan sent vibrations straight to my core as he pumped into me a final time, expanding and contracting as my own orgasm milked him.
Our eyes met when his mouth left my neck. His were solid black, like black holes, void of any light. His fangs were red with my blood and he flashed them in a horrifying smile. My exhaustion combined with the blood loss caught up with me and my vision faded. I fell into the darkness, unconscious before I knew if Damien had caught me or if I had hit the floor.
...
I briefly regained consciousness to a warm, wet cloth being rubbed over my body. I was sitting in the bath, water up to my chest and Damien was bathing me. The water was turning red with my dried blood.
The warmth of the water lulled me back to sleep.
...
I woke again to Damien pulling sheets up to my shoulders, tucking me in and kissing my hair.
"Go back to sleep," he whispered. "I have some business to see to, but I'll be back before you wake."
The room was dark, as were the windows. It could have been right after sunset or early morning, I had no idea. I watched sleepily as Damien pulled on dress pants and a collared shirt, leaving the room while adjusting a watch. He closed the door behind him. I slipped out of bed, pulling the blanket with me and tiptoeing over to the window. Dizziness made me lean on the window sill until I could see straight. My head cleared and I was able to focus ahead of me.
The windows in Damien's room looked out the front of the estate, and I could clearly see all the way down the long road that was, as far as I knew, the only way in or out of the property.
A minute later, a car pulled up to the front and the driver held open the door as Damien got in the back. It pulled out, driving all the way up the long drive and speeding up on the road, out the gate.
He was gone. I was alone.
This was the chance I had been waiting for.
Without another thought, I grabbed a pair of leggings and a shirt (Damien had expanded my wardrobe significantly since I had been here) and ran to the door of the bedroom. With a silent prayer, I tried the handle. It swung open with no resistance.
My bare feet hit the cold floor as I ran down the hall and down the stairs. The only pair of shoes I'd been given were the delicate flats I had worn with the dress that was now ruined with blood, and I had no idea where they had disappeared to.
At the bottom of the stairs I took a hard left, remembering the general location of the garage that held multiple expensive cars. Rounding another corner I came to an abrupt stop.
In my path stood the butler, paused mid stride, looking right at me. I breathed hard, eyes wide, pleading. 'Don't raise an alarm. Don't try to stop me,' I silently begged.
He looked me in the eye, looked behind him to the garage door, and looked back at me. A sympathetic look crossed his face and he gave me a nod before continuing on his way as if he hadn't known exactly what I was doing. I wondered about his relationship to Damien, his loyalties...
I made for the door which opened to a large garage with six cars of varying ages and obscene values. Grabbing a more modern looking keyfob off the wall, a nondescript, but no less expensive silver car at the other end of the garage flashed its lights.
Eight minutes later I was picking up speed, heading in the general direction of the city. Miraculously, I was able to make my way downtown and into my apartment parking garage in just over an hour. The clock on the dash informed me that it was 3:45am by the time I parked.
My heart beat fast the entire time, thinking that every passing car was Damien. That he would recognize the car I was driving and drag me back.
I knew I still wasn't in the clear. I had no idea what information he'd been given after the auction, but I had very little doubt that he had knowledge of this address and every other address linked to me.
It felt surreal walking the familiar hallway to the apartment I shared with Melissa. It felt like an eternity had passed since I had been here, and yet nothing had changed. Under the obviously placed flower pot, I found our spare key and let myself in.
The apartment was quiet, the lights of the city illuminating the dark living room. I first went to the fridge, pouring myself a large glass of water, chugging the whole thing, and refilling. As much as Damien cared for me, he seemed to forget how often humans need to eat and drink. More than once he forgot about a meal until my stomach was growling or I had to remind him.
"HI-YAAA!"
A pillow hit me in the head, sending water spilling down the front of my shirt.
"Melissa! It's me! It's just me!"
Melissa dropped her clenched fists, a second pillow gripped between them. She was dressed in only a large t-shirt. "Jesus, May? What the hell! What are you doing here?!"
"What do you mean what am I doing here? And really... pillows? I need to get you a baseball bat."
Just then, a very disheveled man dressed only in boxers (which he was still pulling up) rounded the corner into the kitchen wielding a lamp, sans lampshade. Seeing that Melissa had lowered her pillow, he paused, half asleep and bleary eyed.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi," he responded.
