0 comments/ 4658 views/ 1 favorites Blackthorne Ch. 01 By: ShadowClones I scurried back on my hands and feet to avoid a very sharp pair of claws that landed too close to comfort to the top my inseams. My hardwood floors had no chance as the black and shiny claws carved into them and trailed back towards her body ever so slowly. I regretted wishing my luck with women would change and I thought to myself if I ever made it out of this alive with my limbs intact I would find Justin and punch him right in the nose. My life was flashing before my eyes as I quickly bobbed my head to the left and narrowly avoided her narcotic kiss. My name's Paul and you're probably wondering how I got myself into this unique situation, and I don't blame you because I ask myself that same question every day. I might be unlucky, or that God hates me but I never really liked the guy anyway. I like to think it was just bad karma and that I pissed off too many people that the Karma IRS is coming after me for back tax I owe. That's not that hard to believe considering I have an uncanny knack for making someone extremely pissed off at me. Perhaps it was my witty sense of humor, or perhaps it was my cynicism. Who knows? All I know is that I get by alright even with all of that. "Yo, dude, you gotta come with us one of these days," Justin said to me, his eyes never leaving the television as the two sweaty men on the screen grappled each other again. "To what?" I asked, feigning ignorance, my eyes not leaving my computer screen. "A party, man. Don't be a pussy. Drugs are good for you, so's the booze," he replied. That Justin, always a real party animal. He thinks he has the constitution of a horse. "I don't know, man. Depends on how bored I am that night." "You mean, on how much you miss your ex, right?" he threw me a glance laced with a hint of a smirk. He quickly caught the couch cushion I threw at his face. "It's this Friday." So we went. There were a lot of omens that night, and you might say that hindsight is twenty-twenty, but damn it why didn't I heed those warnings? For starters, the moon was full and we all know a lot of bad things start with a full moon. Wasn't the word lunacy is derived from the moon? My guts churned as I got into the back of Justin's dull blue Honda and the skin on the back of my neck tingled as the car started forward. We passed an accident on the side of the highway on the BQE; another sign. The highways of New York looked and felt surreal at night. There was none of that noisy din of engines and horns as during the day, all I could hear were the road and other cars occasionally passing by and when you don't try to focus on the headlights they glow eerily in your peripherals as if they were living metal mounts with glowing eyes in the night and the sounds of them passing by became their breaths. I've always felt that I had an artistic mind, because I tend to find the beauty in the most mundane things. And this must have made me doze off because I was rudely awakened by my face hitting the back of the passenger seat. "We're here," Justin announced. "I didn't know I befriended Captain Obvious," I retorted. Hell, a blind man could have found this party without any assistance. The loud thump of a bass on a poorly equalized speaker shook the ground as I put one sneakered shoe onto the pavement followed by the other. I stepped forward and drew my black leather jacket closer. A brisk chill blew through the trees reminded me that autumn was in full season and that summer was long gone. As I zipped up my jacket I gazed up at the house. Man it was a beauty, especially with the backdrop of the full moon. The house looked intimidating as it was enveloped by the white light of the moon. It was a nice two story mock Tudor home that was shaped in a large L with a great lawn on the front and nicely trimmed hedges. The roof was highly steepled and the second floor was overhanging the porch. The walls were half-timbered with herringbone brickwork in between beams and painted egg white with tall mullioned black window frames to contrast the colors which I'm sure would have looked great on a sunny summer day. Wish I could live in a house like this after university. Wished. Two ominous looking gargoyle statues in fearsome poses stood guard upon the stone steps that led to the front door of solid oak. For a second I thought I could see the gargoyles' eyes glow red. I shook off the fear and turned to Justin. "Dude, why didn't you say Dracula had a pad in Brooklyn?" I asked him. He shook his head and continued forward clearly not amused. He climbed up those steps as if he really didn't mind the ominous stone creatures boring holes through my jacket. The door had one of those old style knockers on the front but I really doubted anyone could hear the miniscule taps. I scanned around and looked for the doorbell. After fifteen minutes of bashing on that damn button the door was opened by a jovial student with a red plastic cup in his hand. He greeted Justin like a long lost friend and handed him a drink as soon as he passed that threshold. Must be nice to come into a welcome like that, hell I wish my Starbucks did that, with slightly less homoeroticism because that same jovial "bro" just patted me on my ass. He tried to hand me a drink but I lifted my hand in refusal. "Whoa, relax there, coach. I haven't won the championship yet." I said under my breath but he ignored me and rejoined the sea of people and left me alone. I opted for a cup of vodka instead. "I'm going to go check out their back yard." I yelled into Justin's ear over the bass. Whoever the idiot was that thought pounding bass should be played at every party should be shot, drawn and quartered, repeatedly. I just knew my knees would be hurting in the morning as I waddled to their backyard patio. At least the moon looked nice, no clouds in sight and the air felt cool just enough to remind you winter's about to start. Staring at the nice waterfront made me lose myself in thought. It's been a hell of a few months. A few good things happened since High School, but a few bad things as well. Make that a whole ton of bad things. Even at this upbeat party, this great view and with all this revelry around me, nothing could avert me from my black mood. Now, don't go judging me as some emotional wreck. You would be doing the same thing if your high school sweetheart of two years left you for a school in Chicago and called you to say she just had sex with some other guy, effectively putting an end to our relationship. With love like that cupid can go shoot himself. Afterward, I think some people said that I've been too cynical and burnt out, but I think I just became wiser, kinda like Gandalf the Grey and my ex was the Balrog. Her whip of deceit snagged me down into the chasm of fire and magma, but we all know Gandalf comes back in the second movie. Those same people also said I hid behind a mask of sarcastic jokes as a defense mechanism. Well, it's not like they're psychologists or anything... The wooden railing of the patio I was leaning on shook and broke me from my thoughts. There was a quick movement to my right as an entwined couple began necking on the railing. What I thought was necking, really turned out to be some drunk guy forcing himself on a pretty blond girl. They were in the shadows but what really stood out to me was the glowing red tattoo on the side of the girl's face that stretched from her eyebrow down her right cheek past her neck and stopped just above her collarbone. She moaned in what sounded like both pleasure yet there was a tone of reluctance in her voice. "Stop." The girl didn't sound that stern and she half-giggled. Call me old-fashioned, chivalrous, or chauvinistic, but I saw a woman being forced upon. There's something primal about the reaction to seeing a woman being distressed or hurt. Women were soft, gentle and beautiful. No way was this pig-headed or misogynist. Something caveman about me just hated it when a woman was in this situation and I just had to protect her, no matter what. I closed my hand into a fist trying to think of all the smart ass remarks I can make to taunt whoever the guy was. I might not have the most brawn, but my words cut like the proverbial hot knife through butter. I crept up from a darker part of the deck and placed my hand on his left shoulder. "That makes three, and you know what they say about three being a crowd." I must have startled him as his back straightened up quickly and turned to face me. "What the hell?" I must have been standing in a really dark corner of this patio, because this guy just grew 30 feet or something. I gulped hoping that he couldn't hear it. In reality he must have been standing over me about half a foot taller. He looked down at me and slapped my hand away from his shoulder and glared daggers at me with his nostrils flared out like some Minotaur, all he needed was a nose ring to complete his fearsome countenance. His hot breath falling short of my face but I could clearly smell that he's been chugging the flask. Smelt like scotch. "I think the lady would like to mate with something in our species. I thought guys like you went extinct with the last Ice Age." I regarded him with one lifted eyebrow in a pose of mock appraisal. There was a soft sound from behind the Minotaur guy; I had actually made the girl laugh which I don't think the Minotaur approved of. "Hey wise ass! You think you can just come up here and start making jokes when I'm about to go all medieval on your ass with this railing?" "I don't think I brought my chainmail tonight. Can we reschedule?" I replied. Yep, that's me, my life about to end in three seconds and all I could do was joke. I saw the attack coming from a mile away. The thing with big guys like him was that they telegraph every attack and as long as you don't get hit you'll be fine. He had a small knife in his hand but I guess he was drunker than I had first thought so I took a step back and shifted my weight onto my right foot which allowed me to easily dodge the incoming slash and I retaliated by throwing my untouched cup of vodka into his eyes. He quickly screamed in pain, because apparently vodka really hurts the eyes. He turned around sharply toward the girl but she ducked abruptly. She casted me a quick glance and a nod, which I took this to mean "I need your help." So I helped her and drove my right shoulder hard into the back of the Minotaur. He fell forward and tripped over the girl as she braced herself. The Minotaur guy was no more, or I should say he just went over the railing and landed hard on his back. I'm pretty sure he'll be feeling the effects of that in the morning, along with a nice visit from the hangover faerie. The girl with the glowing red tattoo was laughing softly as she stood up from her crouch. She quickly cast her eyes over me. "Who might you be?" She turned her body to me and I finally saw her. There was a hint of confusion in her voice, yet the tone of hunger remained. I still couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this girl than what I could see. I backed away into a more lighted part of the deck and as if drawn to me she followed in tiny subtle steps as if her feet glided on the wood. I stared into her eyes in a mixture of fear, curiosity and need. Why did I want this girl so bad all of a sudden? I looked into her eyes, her beautiful robin's egg blue eyes that had a hint of jade green. Her lips curled up to one side of her mouth in a knowing smirk. Her hair was golden honey and had small twirls at the ends that flowed down to her shoulders. I felt something hard pressed against my back, it was the wall. I must have been backing up too far... "I'm, uh, Paul." I stuttered out. Smooth. A small sharp pain shot up through my right arm. I looked down at my right hand and noticed I was cut at the fingertip. I must have gotten nicked by the Minotaur's blade. "Well, Paul. Nice to meet ya. I'm Gillian, but you can call me Jill." Her voice sounded like tiny bells ringing harmoniously. "Did you come here alone?" I couldn't stop stumbling on my words for the life of me. "I came with a friend. But I think he's having more fun here by himself." I motioned toward Justin's general direction. "I can see that." She smiled at me and made my heart race and my pants feel two sizes smaller. "You're bleeding aren't you?" She sniffed the air in an expression of lust. She picked up my hand and tried to suck on the wound but I quickly took it away as I gave a little yelp that I doubt sounded very manly. "I can, uh, get a bandage from the medicine cabinet from the bathroom, I think." I was uncertain of what she was trying to do. Not every day a beautiful girl like her tries to suck the blood from your wound. But I did help her out of a bad situation and she must have felt obliged to return the favor. "No, we can't have that. I have a first aid kit in my car. It's just a short walk from here. Why don't you come along?" Her words had a certain pull to them. In my mind I was shouting no, but I was thinking with my lower regions than my brain. "Of course, Jill. I'd love to." I don't know what it was about this girl but she had me tripping up on words, I couldn't think straight, and I needed her like I wanted the next breath of air. I was usually so eloquent and charming the pants of off ladies, well not that quickly, but eloquent enough. Now, well now I felt like I just chewed the world's stickiest piece of taffy and I couldn't produce enough saliva to get my damn tongue off the roof of my mouth. On closer examination, the red tattoo on Jill's face looked somewhat tribal. The long strokes ended with sharp ends that curled about in a chaotic yet beautiful fashion. It radiated a deep crimson, acting like a beacon, and I was the hapless moth that was draw to it. I could have sworn the patterns of her tattoo were gradually shifting as if it was some sort of entity and that entity looked like it was giving me a hungry and toothy smile. My mind screamed all the way to her car and if I could have made my thoughts into action I would have ran, it wouldn't matter that I was in another borough, I would have just fled like a scared rabbit. She never looked back at me as we walked towards her car, a blood red Toyota Matrix. Her slender form was accentuated by the light blue floral sundress that she wore, and it revealed just enough skin to tell me how silky smooth the rest of her body would be. The front of the dress was another matter completely. I did not see any bra straps from walking behind so in the chilly evening breeze the tips of her breasts were strained by the material of the sundress. Her body swayed hypnotically as we walked towards her car. It felt like we'd been walking a league over the course of a year, but in reality it must have taken us fifteen minutes from the time that we left the back deck. She pulled out her keys from a small bag and unlocked the car's back doors. She bent over seductively making me trace my eyes down those smooth legs of hers all the way to her black H-strap high heels, the small rhinestones gleamed white in the moonlight. She took out a small white first-aid kit from the floor of the backseat and for the next few minutes made applying an alcohol swab and bandage look like the sexiest thing on earth. I noticed that the red tattoo dulled a bit and changed to black as she was treating my little cut and I also noticed I was becoming more alert and more observant to my surroundings. We must have walked a bit a ways to her car because I did not see the house anywhere and I did not see Justin's blue Honda. She replaced the first-aid kit back into her car and closed the door. She slowly turned to face me again. She must have been about five foot four so she had to tilt her head slightly upwards to look at me. "If only you wore a nurse's outfit, I would have believed this was one of my wet dreams coming true." I blurted out. There's my old charm coming back. She gave me a genuine smile and it felt like heaven. She had dimples. I loved dimples, especially on her face. Her beautiful attractive face that had a girl next door quality. She had a great smile with dazzling white teeth. Her flaxen hair was down to her shoulders and curled into wavy strands at the tips that blew in the wind. She giggled. "Are you always so straightforward, Paul?" She asked me sweetly. "Only around you," I answered, which was not a complete lie. I felt my throat parch up as if I were in the Sahara. I gulped and realized her black tattoo was becoming redder again. Jill's face flashed a moment of sadness but then quickly shifted to that lustful and hungry look from before. My mind fogged up again and all I could focus on was her beauty and that damned crimson tattoo that shown like a lit torch on a foggy night. Her voice became sultry and heavy. "It seems that I owe you for saving me from that jerk," she leaned in closer and pressed her body against mine. Yep, she really wasn't wearing any support under that sundress. "Where do you live? Perhaps we can discuss the proper gratitude in a more intimate setting." "It's actually a half an hour drive from here." I replied. She smiled devilishly as she placed her car keys into my hands and began walking towards the passenger side. Her voice echoed in my mind, "Drive us there." I quickly followed her as she gave me a puzzled look. "What's wrong?" She asked. "Oh, nothing." I quickly unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for her. She shook her head and just gave me a smile as she slid in. "That's dead, you know." "Chivalry never dies, milady," I said, eliciting a few small throaty chuckles from her. I got in the driver's seat and the red Matrix rolled forward onto the street. I glanced at her quickly and looked at her eyes. There was a furtive shadow of sadness in them. It was there for about a second, until she caught me looking. There was a noticeable change. She gave me a knowing smile and the hint of sadness was quickly replaced by a flirty look. She broke the silence first. "So Paul, where're you from?" "Uh, I've actually lived in New York all my life. How about you?" "I'm from Canada. British Columbia to be exact. Parents were British. They came here from merry ol' London," she said in her best Cockney accent. "Are you going to school?" "Mmm-hmm." I nodded. "What were doing at that party, anyway? You just don't strike me as the type of guy who would go to those kinds of things by their own free will." "I got dragged there by my friend. I was just trying to get my mind off of something," it was getting harder to focus on the driving, good thing we were on the expressway. "Oh, what did you wanna forget? Bad grades?" She tilted her head. I scoffed. "What? You sound like a bright guy. Maybe it's not what, maybe it's who. Who were you trying to get your mind off of?" She pressed harder. "My ex-girlfriend." "Oh, I see. What did she do to make such a sweet guy like you bitter?" I felt like I was on a game show, and Jill was the host. "Do you always ask this many questions?" She laughed. "Well, you intrigue me Paul. You're not like every other guy I seem to meet. You seem like you're hurt and damaged, I'd like to know why. But if you don't wanna talk about it, that's ok." I sighed. There was a brief moment of silence. "Well, we were dating for two years throughout high school, but we had to part ways because she hated her dad more than she wanted to be with me so she went to school in Chicago. So we tried the long distance thing for a bit. Till she called up one day and said she was seeing another guy." "Oh, wow. That's a shocker," she pursed her lips. "Were you trying to get lucky tonight? A quick fling to get her out of your system?" I chuckled. "I don't really know what I was trying to do tonight. I was just brooding when you and Romeo interrupted me." Blackthorne Ch. 01 She punched my arm softly. "Oh, shut up!" "Who was that guy anyway?" It was my turn to ask the questions. "Hmm? He was— no one." "He didn't seem like a no one the way he latched onto you like that." She blushed. "Well, he was about to be foo-" "Oh, we're here," I cut her off, "what was he about to be?" "Oh, foolishly mistaken if he was thinking I was that sort of girl," she gave me a sheepish grin. I parked the car in a small parking lot near my apartment. I blinked and turned to her with half a sudden realization that this was the first time I've ever brought a girl back home to my place. I didn't know whether to be scared or excited, I didn't know what to feel, all I knew was I wanted Jill. Her hold on me was strong, almost uncanny. I tried to rationalize the situation. She was extremely beautiful and attractive, and I did save the day. But why did it feel so wrong when her tattoo was blindingly red? Her features were almost innocent and sweet when she was treating my cut. It was as if she were two people. We made it to my apartment with me in a daze leading her up the stairs. I unlocked my door and walked into the living room. I kept shouting at myself in my mind to stop this and escort her out. This felt like taking advantage of her. This happened in my head as Jill strode in after me and closed the door. She grazed my back with her hand as if it was a preamble to what was coming. She looked around my tiny apartment and strode gracefully to my secondhand loveseat. My apartment was a quintessential bachelor's pad. It had a main living room that had my television, bookshelves, and couches that stood upon old creaky hardwood floors. The bedroom was as big as the back of a pickup truck that fit my bed and a small closet along with a smaller bathroom that barely fit a shower, sink and toilet. "I like your apartment, Paul. It feels very cozy." Jill's eyes gazed into mine as she motioned her hand and gently pat the empty space next to her on the couch inviting me to sit next to her. I hesitated for a second before I found myself sitting next to her. As I turned to look at her, she placed her hand on my chest and gently pushed me back against the arm cushion of the loveseat. Heh, fitting name for a piece of furniture I thought. "Now, weren't we about to discuss your reward for saving me?" She crawled onto my lap and straddled me. "But first we need you out of this jacket and shirt." I tried to take off my leather jacket and t-shirt as best I could considering I could only use my upper torso. I grunted as the t-shirt was lifted above my head and as I did I found her lips pressed against mine and my world becoming very fuzzy. The heat from her tongue exploring mine was the only sensation I felt as I closed my eyes to savor the moment. A moment that didn't last. As her hands pressed against my chest I could feel her slight hesitation. She suddenly looked very confused, the same way she did back when the Minotaur guy was on her. Her face began to change into a more devious shape and her eyes became more feline and sharp, but most importantly her canines became a little too long for my own good. This brings us back to now with me scurried back against a bookshelf. My head quickly moved out of the way as Jill tried to kiss me again. Her eyes were watery and unfocused. "Jill, I'm really opened minded about the kinky stuff, but I think I have to draw the line at growing fangs." I shouted, not really expecting an answer. Her voice came out strained as if there was another person behind it. "I'm sorry, Paul," she whimpered, "But I'm losing it. The Hunger, it's excruciating." Her clawed hands clutched at her floral sundress and tore it off as if it was a second skin. She began to moan in an inhuman voice. Boggles and goggles. I now had an extremely hot blonde girl with claws and gleaming fangs tearing off her clothes in the middle of my living room floor. I've never had such luck with women. It added another distraction as I quickly scanned the room while still trying to back away from her. She looked as if she was having an internal struggle as her body switched from feline grace to awkward jerks as if resisting an urge. I had to think fast. I saw an unused section of extension cord, it was about 15 feet. The reptilian part of my brain agreed with the plan to satiate her Hunger while my mammalian brain berated for me thinking up such a ridiculous plan. I quickly grabbed my t-shirt and whatever was left of her sundress and quickly wound them up together into a makeshift rope. I grabbed Jill's hands as she squirmed seductively towards me and tied them behind her back as tightly as I could. The materials weren't braided unicorn hair or dragon sinew but it held, barely. I then tied the homemade rope with the extension cord and quickly threw one end over one of the arms of my dusty faux chandelier attached to the ceiling of my living room. Hell's bells, I hope it holds. Jill made a muffled noise as she realized her hands were tightly restrained behind her and she was being lifted to her feet as I pulled down the cord and pulled it toward my bedroom door handle. She struggled some more against her restrains but it got her nowhere, she was perfectly tied. If anyone had walked into my apartment and saw this ridiculous sight, a beautiful naked girl with her hands tied behind her back, me in nothing but my jeans; they would have either run away screaming or called the cops. It was like a scene from some kinky fantasy. It would have, if said girl didn't snarl at me. "Bastard! Untie me!" she growled. "Just what the hell are you?" I asked her as I walked in front of her. Damn, even in a murderous rage she looked extremely sexy. "Argh! It's- it's a curse," Her voice returned to normal. "It's been with my family for generations. Please untie me?" She pleaded, it almost convinced me. Almost. "Not until you elaborate, you damned succubus," I crossed my arms. She gave a shriek. I was glad my apartment had soundproof walls. The neighbors wanted privacy, which turned out real fortunate for me. "A curse! A blood curse! Ever since I turned seventeen, I've always had this strange want, whenever I'm emotionally distressed. I tried to keep myself in line all these years. Why? Why did you have to save me, Paul? I would have just kicked the damn asshole and ran home to lock myself in." You know, any other day I would have shrugged this story off and would have said to whoever told me to pitch that story to an agent. Perspectives change when you have a half-vampire trying to bite your jugular in your living room. I was repulsed, I was intrigued, I was horrified, but what struck me as insane was that I was still aroused. "How the hell are you doing that? That glamour, why is it so hard to resist you sometimes? " I readjusted my jeans. She laughed amusingly. Coming from her with that voice, it sounded wrong. "Oh don't be like that Paul. You know you like it. Let me help you get over her." "Is all your beauty and my need for you coming from that curse of yours?" I was deflecting. She shook her head. "I think maybe it's you trying to move on, Paul. I can help you with that. I promise I won't bite," she raised one of her eyebrows as she said that. "You need me Paul, I can tell from the way you're acting around me and what you're feeling. We can come to a compromise; we can both help each other." She was right, and it was getting harder and harder for me to resist. I reasoned that since she was tied up with no chance of escape I could believe her to a degree. I hadn't been with a woman in what was it? A year? I quickly unbuttoned my jeans and grabbed her hair and yanked it back as I looked into her eyes. Jill snarled in surprise which quickly turned into a moan when she figured out my intentions. She stopped struggling somewhat as I leaned in close to kiss her bare neck. I kept my grip on her hair tight as I didn't want her returning any of my kisses with her own. "Need you," she whispered. "Jill, this is our last chance to stop. I think if I just--" "Don't think." She cut me off as her hips brushed hard against my front. "Don't think, just touch me." Somewhere, I knew this wasn't the brightest of my ideas. I laid the fingers of my right hand on the curve of her waist, wrapping them slowly against her heated skin. Soft smoothness caressed my hand. There was a pleasure in it, a primal, possessive pleasure in touching her. I ran my palm and spread fingers over her flank, her belly, in slow and light circles. She arched at the caress, her eyes closing, and whispered, "Yes," over and over again. With my other hand I lightened the grip on her hair to savor the feel of it. More softness, rich texture, honey strands flowing between my fingers. While I did, the quality of the tension changed. I could smell her hair, her skin, their scent like candle smoke and cinnamon. I felt a second gathering of tension in her and then she whipped her head around, teeth bared, reaching for my hand. I should have drawn my hand away. Instead, I tightened my fingers in her hair and pulled back, forcing her chin up and keeping her from reaching me. I expected retaliatory anger from her, but instead her body became pliant again, moving against me with a more willing abandon. A languid smile spread over her lips, and faded away to an openmouthed gasp as I ran my fingertips lightly over her breasts. She gasped, and at the sound all my recent worry, fear, anger, pain—it all faded away, burned to ash by a sudden fire of raw need. To feel her under my hand, to have the scent of her filling my head—I'd dreamt of it on too many cold and lonely nights. It wasn't the smartest thing to do; it was the only thing to do. I slid both hands around her body, teasing her breasts, loving the way their tips hardened to rounded points beneath my fingers. She tried to turn on me again, but I jerked her back hard against me, my mouth pressing against the side of her throat, keeping her from turning her head. It only excited her more. "Don't stop," she whispered panting. I wasn't sure I could have. I couldn't get enough of the taste of her onto my lips. I spent a slow and delicious moment following the line of her spine with my lips and tongue, tasting her skin, testing its texture with my teeth. Some part of me struggled to remember to be gentle. And another part of me didn't give a damn. Feel. Taste. Indulge. My teeth left small marks here and there on her skin, and I remember thinking that they looked intriguing beside the curling scarlet designs of her tribal tattoo that swept in a spiral around her neck and back. The dark leather of her panties blocked my mouth, a sudden ugliness beneath my lips, and I straightened with a grunt to get it out of my way. For the record, tight leather panties don't come off easily. Berserk lust is likely not the best frame of mind for removing them. I didn't let that stop me. She gasped when I started taking them off, started squirming and wriggling, trying to help me. Mostly it drove me insane as she brushed against me, as I watched her move in sinuous, delicious need. Her panting gasps all had a quiet vocalization to them now, a sound that urged me on. I got the panties down below her knees. I shivered and paused to spend another moment savoring her with my hands. "Now," she whispered a frenzied edge to her voice. But I didn't hurry. I don't know how long I stood there, kissing, touching, and driving her cries into higher and more desperate pitches. At that moment there was nothing on earth, in heaven or hell that meant more to me. She looked over her shoulder at me, eyes blazingly blue and burning with hunger. She tried for my hand again, driven beyond words now. I had to control her head again, fingers knotted into her hair while my free hand got the interfering clothes out of the way. She let out mewling sounds, until I pulled her hips back against me, feeling my way, and in a rush of fire and silk felt my hardness press into her. Her eyes flew open wide, out of focus, and she cried out, moving against me, meeting my motion with her own. I had a fleeting thought of slowing down. I didn't. Neither of us wanted that. I took her that way, my mouth on her ear, her throat, one hand in her hair, her hands stretched out over her, body straining back to meet mine. God, she was beautiful. She screamed and started shuddering, and it was all I could do not to explode. I fought away the inevitable for a little time more. Jill sagged down after a moment, until with my hands, with my mouth, with the thrusts of my body, I kindled the quiet moans once again to cries of hunger. She screamed again, the motions of her body swift, liquid, desperate, and there wasn't any way I could keep her from driving me over the brink with her. Our cries mingled together as we intertwined. The strain of muscles and bodies and hungers overwhelmed me. Pleasure like fire consumed us both and burned my thoughts to ash. Time drifted by and did not touch us. When I recovered my senses, I found myself on the floor. Jill lay on her stomach beneath me, her still-bound arms laid out above her head. Not much time had passed. Both of us were still short of breath. I shivered, and felt myself still inside her. I didn't remember loosening the bonds up to the ceiling, but I must have done it. I moved my head to kiss her shoulder and her cheek, very softly. Her eyes blinked slowly open, human again, though her pupils were dilated until they all but hid the dark blue of her irises. She didn't focus them. She smiled and made a soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a cat's purr. I stared at her for a moment, until I realized that the tribal designs on her face had gone dark again, and had begun to fade away. As I watched over the next few moments, they vanished completely. "Thank you," she whispered. "Uh, you're welcome..." "Wanted that." "Me too, more than I realized," I said. "Dangerous, Paul, you could have been hurt. I might have--" The realization crept back into her features. I felt sorry for her, and it really wasn't entirely her fault. I leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth, silencing her. "You didn't. It was a close call, but it's okay. It was my fault well. Any other sane guy would have ran." She shivered, but nodded. "So tired." I felt like nothing more than dropping off to sleep, but instead I got to my feet. Jill let out a soft sound of half pleasure and half protest. I gathered her up and put her on the couch. I untied the extension cord and untied the rope, releasing her, and it slid away from her skin, coiling itself into neat loops in my hand. I pulled a blanket from my bed room and folded it over her. "Sleep," I said. "Get some rest." "You should--" "I will. Promise. But ... I don't think it would be a good idea to go to sleep near you. You might have a nightmare and relapse on me." I half meant the last part. Jill nodded wearily. "You're right. I'm sorry." "It's okay," I said. "I should head out as soon as I can." "Stay, at least till the morning," I quickly said keeping her still. "Not until I can be sure you're okay." I didn't think her voice sounded particularly disappointed as she snuggled down a bit more onto my couch. "Oh," she said. "We'll have to wait it out then." "Yeah," I said. I stroked her hair. "Jill--" She touched my hand with hers, and closed her eyes. "It's alright. What happened tonight, was something else, unique. My hunger couldn't be separated. It...it was a release. Took some of the pressure off me. I wanted it. Needed it." "Did I hurt you?" She made a purring sound without opening her eyes. "Maybe a little. I didn't mind." I shivered and said, "You're okay?" She nodded slowly. "As I can be. Get some rest, Paul." "Yeah," I said. I touched her hair again, and then shuffled into my bedroom. I didn't shut the door. I put my pillows at the foot of my bed, so that I could see the couch when I lay down. I watched her face, graced by pale moonlight, until my eyes closed. She was so lovely. I wished that she were with me.