Followed Home (Erotic Tale of a Vampire) (2 page)

She senses that he is becoming hotter himself, only its a heat in his mind, rather than his body. Or is it? His hands feel less cold. His skin feels less icy. She knows that her own lust, her own form of hunger, is starting to catch in him, like one candle being pressed against another. His wick ignites, and he opens his mouth more, kisses her back more urgently, and sends his hands to the buttons of his shirt to undo them with practiced ease. He lets his shirt slide off his arms and puddle onto the cape beneath him. He takes her into his arms and holds her heated body, a sheen of sweat coating it, making it moist, to his cold body, dry and unaffected by the hot and humid air. His hands roam over her, exploring her, feeling the curve of her back, the thickness of her thighs, the rhombuses of her calves. He pushes her back and takes her breasts into each hand, and kneads them softly, expertly. Her breathing turns to heaving as the culmination of all this sensation is sent to one location on her body.

She lightly presses her hands against his bared chest, and his eyes twitch slightly, and he groans softly. It seems to her as if he has not felt the touch of a woman in a long time. His hands stop above her left breast, and she realizes he is feeling her heartbeat. He seems entranced by it. His eyes stay closed. His breathing remains shallow. She puts her hand to his chest but feels no beat there. But her heart is beating hard enough for both of them.

“Lie down,” he says, and she looks at him intrigued. It is the first time either one of them has spoken. His words are accented, but she does not know from where. His voice is deep and smooth, and it harbors no menace.

“Okay,” she whispers back at him, lying back against his cape, her naked body on display against the maroon behind her. He kisses his way down her chest, takes a nipple into his mouth. He rolls it in between his tongue and teeth and she can feel the press of his fangs on her areola, that ring of speckled skin. He works his way further down her body, kissing, licking, grazing his fangs, and tingles are sent shooting downward. She shivers and shudders uncontrollably. She can feel herself leaking liquid desire. There is no coagulant that can stem that flow.

He moves past her heat, and opens her legs. She is bared to him, a slit of scarlet, glistening, hungry. He seems to ignore it, and instead licks down her thighs, before sliding his fangs once again into her skin and taking from her a mouthful of blood.

She moans as he sucks crimson from her. She has never felt a sensation quite like this. Her body trembles in something approaching pleasure. It is the ultimate tease. It leaves her wanting, yearning with extraordinary fervor.

He moves to her other thigh and sinks his fangs inside again. His bite is beautiful, soft and loving. There is no menace there. There is no evil there. She reaches for his head and feels his dark hair in her hands. It is soft and delicate, and she feels compelled to handle it carefully, as if it is some kind of antique or ornament.

But she cannot control herself. She pushes his head harder against her thigh, and from her he drinks a second mouthful. But that seems to be enough, and he pushes upward against her hand, to stand up before her.

She watches as he undresses, smiling inwardly at the sight of his body. It is hard, defined. It is not bulging, and it is not excessive. It is perfectly proportioned. She feels her internal heat grow at the sight of him. His trousers fall down his legs. His thighs are muscular, his calves angular. A large lump is curled beneath his underwear. He removes that, and his manhood is revealed, and she grins outwardly this time. It’s large, and thick, and barely even erect yet. Veins bulge and coil around the shaft. His dome is wide and already nearing purple.

She holds out her arms. “Come to me,” she whispers, and he lowers himself to her. She holds him tightly, his cold body pressing against her hot body. They are both nude, both naked, both revealed to each other. Their most private selves.

He is becoming excited. His body is reacting to his cognitions. He wants her too, more than just her blood. He wants her body, her closeness. He wants her essence.

She lies down on top of him, massaging his chest. His skin seems less cold than before. It is as if her warmth is infiltrating him. It is as if she is breathing life back into his body. But with her lust or blood? She feels his excitement press against her stomach, and looks down between them. His manhood is staring at her, ready, erect.

She rolls over onto her back, loving the feel of the velvety cape beneath her. She spreads herself and looks at him, offering herself to him, desperately hoping he’ll take her. He pauses for a moment, and in that moment it feels to her that she is waiting for an eternity. But then he rolls onto his side, kissing her shoulder lightly, rubbing her sweetness tenderly.

He slides down her body, pulling his nose over her scented sex, sending out a quivering tongue to swab at her swollen sex. He licks up and down her slit, plays with the bundle of nerves with his tongue, sending her moaning and shuddering in pleasure.

She looks down the length of her body to see that he is still ready. To see that he is throbbing. “Take me,” she whispers, and he nods, placing the wide dome of his thick gristle at her entrance. He pushes inside, and his manhood glides in as smoothly as his fangs did into her skin.

He throws his head back. She can see the pleasure playing out on his face. He thrusts into her like he hasn’t had the pleasure of doing so for a long, long time. She can feel his warmth throbbing within her, and she realizes that he is not cold everywhere. And, perhaps, even if he does not have a heart, one still beats with all the might of emotion.

She gasps and closes her eyes. She can feel his thickness inside her. It tingles her all over. She has never felt so full. His veins, wriggling protrusions, ripple past her folds. His firm thrusts make her tremble with excitement.

She feels as if his touch has infiltrated into every cell membrane of her body. It is as if his presence is felt in her entire existence, in her memories, in her future. It is as if time collapses to a single point, and he is there.

She caresses him, feels the muscles of his back ripple and roll as he thrusts into her, his pace increasing, his power increasing. She moans and gasps at each thrust, and throws her hips forward to meet his thrusts.

She pulls his head toward her neck again, asking for more of that sting, begging him to truly take her. He’s pushing deeper and faster into her. His breathing is rapid. His skin is starting to flush. She can feel a heat within him, and it thrills her.

“Take me,” she whispers to him again.

He lets his mouth fall open and he once again sinks his fangs into the soft skin of her neck. He pushes them deeper than he did before, and she feels her blood gushing out of her. It is almost as if she is being drained. He drinks deeply, hungrily, never once relenting his powerful thrusts, and she moans in delight, a mixture of pain from the bite and pleasure from his manhood coursing through her consciousness.

She becomes disconnected from her body, transported to a wondrous place. He takes a hand and thumbs her pearl and she crests almost immediately. Powerful convulsions take over her body. Extreme pleasure takes over her mind. She screams out into the air, captured, conquered, taken by the vampire. Her orgasm lasts for minutes, and she thrashes and writhes on the cape, her eyes shut and unable to open, her face bunched up in a twitching mess of muscle.

His thrusts grow more rapid and he, too, tightens up. His face, too, bunches up. He climaxes within her, and groans quietly onto her neck. She holds him tightly. The two have become one. He has captured her essence, ensnared her soul.

And she has given him a heart.

They lie together, heaving, a mess of limbs and flesh.

He continues to drink from her, but he is saddened. He knows she is approaching death. “Stay with me,” he says intensely. His voice is hoarse and pleading.

“Okay,” she whispers back, but that is not good enough for him.

“Do you want to be with me forever? Do you want to walk this earth and not grow old? Do you want to feel the pleasure of drinking like I do?”

“Yes,” she says after a moment. “Yes, I do. I want that.”

“Then drink of me, do you understand?” She nods. “Do you understand?” he asks again severely. She nods again.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” he says, lowering to kiss her. She kisses him back, tasting her own blood on his lips. He breaks the kiss and holds his wrist above her mouth. He slices open his flesh with a nail, and blood flows from the wound. “Drink of me,” he says, “and we can be together forever.”

She puts her mouth around his wound and drinks the flowing crimson. She swallows and swallows and the blood becomes sweeter. She keeps drinking to his encouragement, and she feels his manhood twitch inside her.

The blood intoxicates her. She is becoming drunk on it. She feels something changing. She feels his blood now in her veins. She feels that she is no longer of this world, that her body and her mind are separate, disparate.

He pulls his wrist away. “Do not worry,” he says, as her face grows startled, as she begins to feel the sensations of change. Her heart begins to slow. She has trouble breathing. He lays down beside her and puts an arm around her. He holds her for comfort. “Do not be scared,” he whispers into her ear, kissing her tenderly on the cheek.

She feels the onset of death. Its cold fingers grope at her body, at her mind. She feels a fear, but abates it with discipline. She trusts the vampire. She will not be hurt. She will die and then she will come alive again. A different kind of alive. A different kind of life.

She looks out of her mortal eyes for the last time and into the eyes of her mysterious lover. He is stunning. He is immaculate. He is inhuman.

Her vision fades. It grows dark. Her breathing shallows. It stops. Her eyes close. She dies.

She is alive. Her eyes fire open and she gasps for air before groaning out into the night. Her stomach is on fire. She clutches at it in agony, and looks at the vampire beside her. “What’s happening to me?” she asks, her eyes betraying her fear.

“Shh, shh, it is just your hunger. Push it away. Suppress it. Learn to control it. Do not become its slave.”

“Okay,” she says, remembering that she trusts him, remembering that he won’t hurt her. She forces herself to think of something else, to ignore the searing pain within her. Her discipline is strong, and her conqueror smiles, impressed by her quick reigning-in of a vampire’s one true weakness.

“Good,” he says. “Good. You are doing well, my love.” She looks into his eyes, hearing that word. She feels for her heart but it is not racing. It does not skip a beat. It is dead, unmoving. But the heart in her mind flutters all the same.

“My love,” she whispers to her capturer.

“My love,” he reaffirms to her. She looks down his naked body, and sees his manhood has sprung to life once more.

“Not yet,” he says, “not yet. You need to sate that hunger first.”

“I can control it,” she says, rolling onto her side and taking his thickness into her hand. She pumps him violently, and his eyes flutter for a moment.

“N-no,” he says, reasserting himself. “You won’t be able to.”

“I can and I will,” she says before mounting him. She slides him into her and rides him, quashing the hunger within her, focusing on him within her. She feels the pleasure, and it is different somehow. Heightened, intensified. She grinds her hips into his body, crushing her clit against his pubic bone. She sees his pleasure on his face and is spurred on. He reaches for her breasts and caresses them gently, tenderly. He takes her nipples between his fingers and rolls them and tweezes them and pinches them.

She rides him faster, harder. She grinds into him with a power she did not know she possessed.

They climax again, and he holds her to him tightly. His warmed body warms her cold body. They moan and grunt and thrash against each other. They lay again together, panting, heaving, wriggling, writhing.

Their pleasure fades into oblivion.

“My love,” she says. “My name is Cecelia.”

“My love,” he says. “My name is Erik.”

“Let’s eat,” she says.

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On behalf of all erotica authors, I would like to thank you for supporting the genre. It is hugely popular, immensely diverse, and is filled with myriad examples of great writing, and yet it is rarely afforded the privilege of shelf space (and in the virtual sense, too!). Your patronage is what allows us to keep doing what we love.

For that, I am eternally grateful.

I hope you enjoyed this story at least as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please feel free to send me feedback in any way, shape, or form.

If you are comfortable doing so, leaving a truthful review (so that means negatives, too!) would not only help me with my craft, but it would also give me direction on what to write next.

Thank you - AG.

Audrey Grace is the pen name of a thirty-something traveler who has followed her father and his job around the world. A rebellious tomboy in her teenage years, Audrey first discovered her love of scribbling smut with an erotic short story written for class when she was fourteen. It was titled
The Erotic Adventures of Hercules
and earned her an appointment with the principal.

Having lived in Australia, Canada, China, Hong Kong, Japan, and the United Kingdom, smut (and traveling) have always been Audrey’s one consistent. Blessed with a hyperactive sex drive, it’s the one thing she just can’t stop doing. Audrey is currently based in Melbourne, Australia, but she won’t stay there for long!

www.AudreyGraceErotica.com

[email protected]

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Author Page at Amazon
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Check out this excerpt of Audrey Grace’s tale of forced gangbang feeding:

Mated to the Vampire Clan

By Audrey Grace

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A flat tire leaves Maddi stranded in the middle of a forest road. Her only chance is the abandoned house just down the road. Upon arriving, she falls asleep on the sofa. When she wakes, over a dozen pale-skinned creatures slip out of the darkness like wraiths, and she is utterly at their mercy..