It had been a week since she stopped talking to him. She lay on the bed stubbornly ignoring every attempt of his to get on her good side. The first day, all she felt was anger and fear. But she was starting to enjoy her new form of entertainment.
Damien had brought her clothes, good food, books. He'd talked to her, yelled at her, even had Elena to come and try to pull Christine out of her shell. Christine just thought that last attempt was depressing. It was clear that Elena couldn't see a single fault in her twin. The woman seemed quite kind (for a bloodsucking demon), but was completely set on defending Damien, even though she clearly disapproved of his attack.
Although Elena was good for something. During her long "conversation" with Christine, she told the younger girl about their feeding habits. According to Elena, vampires possessed some level of mind control. It was nothing like in all the movies, but they were able to distort memories enough for an intended victim to think of them as a crazy drunk encounter, instead of a supernatural one. Christine was loathe to believe them, but she really couldn't imagine Elena as a murderer. And the explanation was supported by the discovery that the mark on her neck had disappeared, like it was never there. She could imagine a "victim" being convinced that none of it was real. Oh, how badly she wished she could.
She couldn't stop thinking about her family. She knew they must be terrified for her. She desperately wanted to get back to them, but couldn't understand how. As it turned out, the door locked with a keycode, so there wasn't a physical key that she could steal. During the short times that Damien left, she tried different passcodes, to no avail.
She was brought out of her musings with the click of the door opening. Damien walked into the room, holding a large box.
"Elena said that you would need some of this stuff," he began. He dumped the box on the bed, sending what appeared to be an abundance of various products and toiletries scattering.
"I didn't know what you liked, so I got some of everything."
From what she could see, he was serious. He might as well have bought an entire salon. As she thought about it, it was actually a possibility. Money didn't seem to be a concern. She didn't know if it was because they had a great deal of it, or because they stole everything, but she refused to break her silent treatment to ask.
She looked dispassionately at the assortment, before coming over and selecting a few. She'd originally thought about refusing his gifts, but she'd decided the silence was enough. Anyways, she did really enjoy some of the stuff he brought, much to her chagrin.
As she looked through the pile, she felt his arms snaking around her waist. This again, she thought. He'd already realized that she was attracted to him, so he'd been doing her best to use that to his advantage. The worst part was that she was having more and more trouble resisting him.
She tensed as he pressed her back against his strong body. He continued talking in a normal voice, but with his lips so close to her, it felt quite different.
"I spent hours finding you all of this stuff, the least you could do is say thank you." He paused, as though he was expecting her to respond. For some reason, when he was holding her like this, she forgot that she should be scared with his teeth so close to her neck. "No? Well, you're welcome, in any case."
His fingers were tracing circles on her hips and stomach, and despite herself, she knew that she was starting to get turned on. The worst part was, she knew he could tell, with his acute senses.
She felt his warm lips press against her shoulder. He turned her around in his arms so that she was facing him, and looked down at her. She avoided his gaze, cursing her weakness, trying to order herself to pull away.
He nibbled lightly on her ear, and felt him smirk at her resulting shiver of pleasure. Against her will, she could feel the tingling in her body centering into an ache deep in her belly. His hands stroked her shoulder blades, sending tingling bolts of pleasure through her.
She sank her lip into the inside of her cheek, trying to remain impassive, despite her growing arousal. He brushed his lips along her jaw.
"I know you like this" he murmured against her skin. "Speak to me."
He apparently knew better than to try and kiss her, because he skipped over her lips and trailed kisses down the other side of her neck. Despite herself, Christine's head tipped back. He was definitely smiling now, arrogant asshole. But she couldn't summon the will to pull away. He mouthed against her pulse, and she bit back a moan. She could feel his arousal between them, and it took everything in her not to push against it. She could feel herself starting to get wet, but couldn't bring herself to care anymore, not when he was making her feel such delicious, foreign things. He inhaled deeply, and let out a groan that sent wonderful vibrations through her.
"I can smell you, you know," he told her huskily. For a moment she tensed, thinking he was talking about her blood, but then he thrust his hips against her and she realized what he meant, even as the movement sent another pulse of warmth through her dampening her panties even more.
"You can't pretend you're not enjoying this. Come on Christine."
She let out a gasp, close to speaking, just so she could beg him to say her name again, in that rough, hot tone.
