Vampyre Embraced By Darkness

She bit her lower lip and tilted her head back, eyes half closed and body tense while he pushed himself into her. Perched on the altar, she rocked with him, hands gripping round his body while he groped at her breasts and grazed his teeth across her skin. She moaned quietly, barely daring to breathe as her body trembled at the mercy of his. Pulling at her nipples, he increased the tempo of their act. Sending her over the edge with a mixture of pleasure and pain, as her whimpering increased in volume and her breathing came in ragged, shallow gasps, he pulled his head back and sunk his teeth into her throat.

Her moaning continued at first, her pleasure too great to even be aware of the pain being masked by her orgasm. Her arms still gripped around him, holding him tight to force him deeper and send her closer to the delight she craved. As the tremors subsided and the tension released she became aware of a warm ache on her neck. Her eyes rolled round in her head and once opened took a few seconds to adjust fully to the dimly lit church where they had consummated their lust. As her eyes tracked up her body, she noticed the rivulets of blood that were weaving their way down her flesh, mixing with her sweat and becoming imprinted on his body as he pressed himself close, his mouth still firmly clamped around her throat while he finished off with a few final thrusts before leaving himself to go limp inside her.

She tried to push him away at first, playfully with a smile on her face, even though she was bleeding; they’d done this kind of thing before. This time, it had just gone a bit far. He ignored her pushes, as she became more persistent, he grabbed both of her arms and pinned her backwards across the altar, her head smashed off the corner and her need to fight ebbed away with her consciousness. As her body wilted away from him, he let go of her throat and she fell gently across the wooden slab, he withdrew himself from her body and zipped his jeans back up, gazing at her shape in the darkness and denying himself another chance to spill his seed.

Lying spread across the altar, she was the picture of sin. Her skirt pushed around her waist, underwear ripped and now soiled, she didn’t wear a bra, her pert, small breasts didn’t need one and the top she had been wearing now lay in a crumpled heap to the side of the altar. His eyes half closed as he allowed a shiver to run through him. Even unconscious, she was still a tease; he felt himself begin lust for her again and closed his eyes completely. He didn’t have time anymore, and right this moment he needed to make a decision. He either left her here to die or he took her back to his lair and claimed her for the darkness, he opened his eyes and glanced at her again. He knew he would take her with him, he couldn’t leave her. Everything about her called to him, her beauty, her dying breaths, the scent of her blood, of her sex. She was perfection, and he would make her his.

With his resolution complete, he reached forward and swept her into his arms before exiting the church. Time was of the essence now, he only had so long before it would be too late to turn her and embrace her into his kind. His lair was only a mile from the church, which involved a race through the valley to the mines in the driving rain. Rain which fell like shattering glass and tore at his skin like daggers and cleansed the blood from her skin, yet despite the poor weather, he got there quickly and sprinted his way to the deepest mine and lay her tenderly onto the bundle of blankets.

Stepping back from her, he snapped on a light, a weak standing torch and looked at her. Her skin was beginning to grey and he knew death wouldn’t be far away, he knew he should act quickly but something stopped him. He’d never given life before, only taken it, this act would change him, but he had to. He wanted to take her again, to be able to take her in eternity. Slowly, he approached her, clearing his mind as he kneeled at her feet and started the ritual that would grace her with the darkness and give her the gift of immortality.

He ran his hands over her feet then began to rub his cheek along her leg, taking him higher and gently spreading her legs as he passed her knee. By his vision, the vein glowed blue, a target on her flesh, his lips parted as he came closer and he snaked his tongue across her thigh, anticipating the taste of her sweet blood again, the taste of bleeding her dry. As he reached the vein, he sank his fangs deep into her thigh and his jaw worked hard against her flesh as he became dizzy with lust on the final drops of her blood.

As her body died, he bit into his arm and tore a strip of flesh from his wrist then started to pour the blood into her mouth, as his blood edged down her throat, her body began to writhe and her mouth clamped onto his wrist, sucking at it like a child would suck their mother’s breast. He smiled, even though his blood now burned like fire, it had worked. She was turning. He leaned towards her and lifted her with his other arm, lifting her into his lap, he cradled her while she drank deeply at his wrist, the blood running down her face and splashing over her breasts. Her skin was starting to glow, almost pale silver, heavily contrasted against her black hair. He closed his eyes, as her power grew, their souls crossed, shared through his blood. He could see everything she had ever done; taste everyone she had ever had.

It was an overwhelming experience, draining. Yet when she finished drinking and her eyes finally opened, gazing up at him with a wicked flicker in them he just nodded, she grinned and squirmed out of his embrace. He watched as she positioned herself on the floor between his legs and caressed her palm over his crotch before slowly unzipping his jeans and sliding them off. His eyes fluttered as she licked slowly around the head. He leaned back, shutting his eyes as she worked his full length into her mouth and began to lick and suck as if she were trying to draw blood from a wound. His body shuddered as he felt his insides pull together for a final thrust. As he fired his dead seed down her throat, he could see that this was just beginning of a beautiful partnership.