Thoughts Of A Vampire Rising
A/N: This is technically two nameless vampires although I’m sure we can all guess who they really are.
There is no real time frame other than before the revelation although I believe it is during the time when people were more scarce, when it was still acceptable to drain your first meal as a vampire.
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Heavy, so heavy!
Where am I? What has happened?
I must get to him! I MUST. The compulsion is like nothing ever before! He is calling to me, telling me to rise and come forth. He wishes to see me in my new form. New form? What does that mean? Why would I have a new form?
My gums are aching, burning, until something sharp breaks through, cutting my tongue. The taste of my own blood is enervating! The scent is enough to drive one wild!
I claw my way up slowly.
The call is getting stronger. I am taking too long. It hurts, this call thing. Why is he using it? I’m comfortable here in the dirt, it is home like nothing else has ever been.
Finally my hand breaches the surface and he grabs it and helps me the last foot or two.
He is standing there in all his gloriousness, hands on my shoulders, watching me intently with his intense blue eyes.
My throat burns. The sharp teeth break through my gums again.
I can’t stand still, can’t concentrate. All I can see is him and a red haze but I can hear and smell and feel!
I can hear the wind in the trees, the crickets chirping, hearts beating and blood pumping. Blood pumping? Why should I be able to hear the blood pumping?
I can smell the dirt I just clawed my way out of, his unique scent of sandalwood, jasmine and musk. I can smell something so sweet, so alluring that I must find it! I must go to it! Just the thought of the scent has me shaking on the spot but he won’t release me, let me go to it.
I can feel something strange. It’s like a flexible iron band running between him and me. He feels…familiar, like an old shoe that one has worn until it conforms to the contours of the foot so well no one else can wear it. He feels safe, safer than I’ve ever felt before.
He removes his hands and points. I see it and it has all my attention. Nothing else matters in this moment but the thing he has pointed out. Its smell has my attention, all of it, I see nothing else, hear nothing else other than what he has pointed out.
I rush toward it but it runs, tries to get away. I don’t let it. I catch it and it smells even more enticing now that its blood is rushing through its veins even more swiftly. It looks at me with wide eyes. Fear is pouring from it. The smell of the fear is…luscious! I want it even more now. I need it. Every instinct I have is telling me what to do. I do not need HIM to tell me what I must do.
My fangs, fangs?, break forth again and I sink them into the neck of my prey. I gulp the precious, life giving, life maintaining blood, leaving nothing but an empty husk by the time I am through.
I do not care, I need more. I must have more! MORE! NOW! MORE!
I stand still for a moment smelling the air around me, tasting it, feeling it and discover another thing nearby. He does not need to point this one out to me, I find it on my own. I chase it, catch it, sink my fangs in, leave nothing behind again but an empty shell.
Over and over again I do this until finally I am no longer ravenous but now another need is upon me, one which is just as compelling as the need for the blood I have drunk.
He’s leaning against a tree trunk, arms crossed across his broad chest, eyes blazing in the starlight, long legs crossed one over the other, watching and smiling, waiting. Waiting for what? For me? What does he want of me?
It doesn’t matter what he wants of me in this moment in time. What matters is my need for him! I can feel my thighs getting sticky from the juices running from my body. He is truly lovely. Any woman, or man, would be proud to call him their own.
I rush at him, ripping my dirt and blood covered clothes from my body as I go. By the time I can touch him my shift is in tatters on the ground and I stand in my nakedness before him.
Before I can touch him he has me on the ground, on my hands and knees, his fingers buried deep within me, touching something so deep inside yet so very, very primitive. I howl at what he’s doing to me. I grind myself down onto his hand, searching for the friction he isn’t giving me, for the release he is withholding. I growl at him, try to tell him what he is doing to me but can not find the words. The need is too strong. I feel a primal urge to mate with him, to rut, to fuck!
This is not something I can ignore. The urge is overwhelming. I must. I try to turn and push him to his back, to straddle him, to fulfill my need but he prevents me. He holds me in place, continues to use his fingers to nearly blind me with my lust and need for him!
Finally! FINALLY! He sinks his engorged cock inside me and pumps faster than I ever thought possible! He ruts with me, fucks me, until he finally allows me that which I have been craving since I finished with the final human. He allows my tensions to release. My walls clench around him, vibrate for him.
Over and over again he takes me, claims me, makes me his irrevocably
Many times over he claims me body and soul. None other will touch me now, his scent is too strong in me, on me. He wants it this way, needs it, I can feel it. He wants me for himself just as I want him for myself.
He WANTS no one else to touch me. He WANTS his scent on me, in me, so they will know to not touch what is his.
How do I know this? It is not something I have ever come across before. Sex in my world before him was not something I was experienced in but he will teach me all he knows.
I am hungry again. My fangs break forth and I sink them into his bicep. He howls as he pumps deeper than before. I drink his glorious blood. I feel it as he sinks his fangs into my neck, as he drinks from me. What a glorious feeling! To give and receive at the same time.
My life? Is this life? Drinking blood, sex, is there anything else?
I am slowing down now. Thoughts.