Carrie 8217 s Seduction
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I remember the first time my sister Charlotte came to me and told me she was in love. The most shocking part of the news was when she said the man she loved was a vampire. My jaw was on the floor. I had no idea my older sister was in love, let alone with a vampire, let alone that vampires were real. It was a confusing time, but that was two years ago, and I’ve grown accustomed to it now.
They live among us, always have, and while of course the secret must be kept from mainstream society, there is still a large underground world of humans who are aware. Evidently, over the last thousand years, vampires have evolved to blend in with society, able to venture out during the day, though they still prefer the night. In the twenty-first century, it has become fetishized. Steampunk clubs and modern societies dedicated to the living dead. (Many host blood donations, and when I learned that there isn’t a shortage of volunteers, I was nauseated. Certainly relieved to learn the odds of me being attacked by a vampire was almost nonexistent, but still grossed out.)
Like my sister, some people choose to become vampires. Our parents are dead, so I’m really the only person she had to break the news to. Some people just bask in the presence and the parties, and some are only there for the sex.
Vampires are innate sexual creatures. They are masters of seduction with persuasive powers and unquenchable needs. Or so I’m told. I’ve never fucked one, and I don’t plan to. While I support my sister’s decision to become immortal and delve into that life, I, myself, have chosen to stay very much human. It’s an odd balance, knowing that beneath the surface of the economy is an entire other world - paranormal at that. I grew up human, though. It would be hard to leave behind my human habits and desires. I never had a knack for biting off more than I can chew. I like control, I like to be prepared and educated. I want to live my life the way I’m meant to. But I still love my sister, so we frequently see each other, and every time we do, I have to put reality on the back burner.
At eight o’clock, I slip on my knee length coat over my thigh high dress and step out into the cool October air. My heels sound on the concrete, legs sheathed in black stockings, my long dark mahogany hair in loose curls spilling over my shoulders. It is dark when the taxi drops me at Charlotte’s house; an elevated townhome matching the rest on the block. I thank the driver and turn to walk up the steps, my ascendence halted by a figure at the top.
The nearest street lamp is at the corner, so all I can see is his silhouette and a slight illumination of his left side. He is tall and solid, not huge, but masculine and demanding, his hair short and dark, his jaw square, eyes reflective silver.
With one heel on the step in front of me, I stare up at him, and he stares back, hands in his pockets.
“You must be Christina.” His words have a strange way of carrying texture, as if he dipped every letter of my name in a fluid softer than water, rolling off his tongue.
“And you are?” Before I can blink, this vampire is standing on the step above my foot, his hand extended toward me.
“Alexander D’Angelo.” I hardly have an extra brain cell to concentrate on his name after he used fade in front of me. “You can call me Alec,” he says when I blink away the unnerving memory of his quick motion.
“Nice to meet you,” I say irritably, ignoring his attempt at human courtesy and pushing past him up the stairs. He is there before me, opening the door.
“Could you stop that?” I say, and humor tugs at one corner of his lips.
“My apologies.” His smoldering face makes me that much angrier. I hate vampires.
I don’t mind my new brother-in-law Michael, he is nice and makes my sister happy. Even my sister makes a good vamp, always courteous enough not to do the abnormal shit in front of me. But usually, they are exactly like this guy: cocky and condescending, always using their extra abilities to show off. A lot them carry a god complex, believing they’re better than us, though in what way, I can’t imagine.
We walk inside the house and I go straight to my sister’s waiting arms.
“You didn’t say we’d have extra company,” I say, hugging her cold body back, and her laugh is a tinkling bell. She knows I’m not fond of the male vampire variety.
“Sorry. I see you’ve met Alec. He’s Michael’s old friend.”
We go to the dining room, where I’m greeted by Michael with another cold hug. Our friends Devon and Michelle are here too; Devon’s a vampire, Michelle isn’t. They’ve been dating a while. I wonder if Michelle will want to be one too someday.
Michelle and I are the only ones who eat actual food, but all of us are drinking. Apparently vampires are still capable of having their spirits lifted, alcohol the only human substance they can tolerate ingesting.
We sit at the table and talk amongst each other, our bi-weekly ritual. Alec is a new addition, however. He sits across from me, his eyes green now that he’s not submerged in darkness, and they keep finding their way to my face. I don’t talk to him much until the conversation turns his direction.
“How long are you visiting for?” Devon asks him.
“Indefinitely at the moment. In fact, I quite like it here. I may stick around.” Alec doesn’t look at me when he says this, but I suddenly feel him all around me. His presence is thick. I heave a silent sigh, feeling suffocated.
“Where are you from?” I ask.
“Czech. Back when it was the Bohemian Estates.”
“And how long have you and Michael known each other?” I say, trying to be polite.
“Wasn’t it the summer of 1912?”
“I believe so,” Michael agrees. “Around the same time the Titanic sunk.”
“That’s right. Still remains quite interesting news.”
I want to roll my eyes. I find it utterly fascinating that some people have lived so long, and I find myself wanting to ask questions about first-hand experiences, but when they use it in such casual conversation, it’s discombobulating.
“Did you get the chance to meet Shakespeare as well?” I say facetiously, and when Alec looks at me, warmth starts spreading through my veins.
“Unfortunately no,” he utters. The warmth doesn’t stop. It starts in my heart, and I can feel it inching its way through me, where it seems to be congregating in my stomach. Our friends continue their conversation around us as Alec and I stare at each other. I can’t look away, his green eyes hypnotic. It’s not even that I can’t look away, I don’t want to. Suddenly hostility doesn’t make sense. The whole world doesn’t make sense. The only thing that does is desire.
I was wrong, the warmth isn’t building in my stomach. It’s filling my womb. I am acutely aware of my reproductive system, every nerve ending in my pussy warm and aching, begging to be fucked and filled. I need something inside me so badly, my panties are instantly wet, my nipples in pain against my bra.
I clear my throat and find the strength to tear my eyes away, taking a sip of the dark wine in my stemmed glass. I try to join in the talk, but when I look back, he’s still staring at me. Our eyes meet and lust explodes inside me once again, more forcefully this time.
“Are you alright?” Alec says quietly, a devious glint in his eyes, and I want to slap him. He knows what’s happening to me. Horror strikes me as I realize he must be using influence on me; a vampire’s talent of controlling those around them. I’ve never had my will messed with before, and while I’ve heard stories, this is nothing like I imagined. I feel violated. How could he do this to me? I don’t even know him.
However, as badly as I want to deck him in the face, I need release more.
“Excuse me,” I mumble over our friend’s chatter, and rise from the table. I go straight to the bathroom and lock the door. Reaching my hand under my skirt and touching my soaked thong, I start rubbing myself, and though the fabric is wet, it feels like sandpaper. I move my hand inside the front of the silk and touch my slippery cunt with bare fingers, and I have to bite back a moan.
My shoulders pressing to the wall, hips forward, I stroke my clit vigorously, loving every moment. In the shortest time, I’ve ever achieved orgasm, my insides explode with ecstasy and I cum hard, my muscles contracting, my other hand over my mouth as I hum with relief.
Holy fuck, not only was it the fastest, it’s by far the best, lasting and lasting, and it feels so good I climax again. When that one’s exhausted, I slide to the floor and open my legs, rubbing myself until I cum a third time.
After another minute, I’m shaking with the remnants of my pleasure. I cannot believe Alec just did that to me. I am shaking with anger by the time I stand up. Washing my hands and adjusting my dress, I swallow hard, wondering how I’ll be able to go back out there and face him. My fury gives me courage. I would teach him a lesson if we weren’t in front of all these people. I don’t want anyone knowing what just happened. I never wanted a tryst with a vampire.
I exit the bathroom and upon returning to the dining table, it appears no one noticed the meltdown I just had. I know vamps have good hearing, excellent senses evolved to make them the ultimate predator and all that. Hopefully, they were distracted enough to not be listening.
I see Alec smile when I sit, though he doesn’t meet my eyes, for which I’m grateful. I’d love to smack that smile off his lips though.
I sit politely through the rest of dinner, and when Charlotte walks me to the door, she hugs me.
“I’ll see you in a couple weeks. Call if you need me sooner.”
“You too,” I reply, and when I pull away, Alec is holding up my coat for me. I sigh and slip it on, surprised when ‘thank you’ comes out of my mouth, instead of ‘you asshole’. I wave and walk out the door. The harsh air is nipping at my exposed skin wakes me up a little. I breathe it in, feeling as though I’m finally able to shake off that daunting experience. I wish I were able to explain it better.
I know vampire’s influence works with eye contact. I know they’re very sexual, and I’ve heard of what they’re capable of, but feeling it first hand, the incredible fire inside me, it was truly disconcerting. And amazing. I scoff at myself. That’s what pisses me off the most. He made me delusional enough to crave him. Alec brought me to orgasm more times than I have ever had in one sitting, and he didn’t even touch me. I want to pull my hair out at the thought.
I grab a cab home, and during the ride, my resolve turns to steel. I vow to stay away from Alec, hoping he’ll leave me alone as well. I don’t want anything to do with whatever just happened.
-
The days pass, and I try to stay busy with work, which isn’t difficult. I am an editing photographer for a magazine, and we have a new issue that just got a new deadline. I’m currently head of the main interview spread. I help put sets together, order props and equipment, and practice photographing different objects with different lighting, anything to help prepare myself and the team.
On Tuesday, when I leave the office at seven, the sun is already down. I wrap a scarf around my neck as I walk down the steps, and he’s waiting for me at the bottom. Alec is sharp in his casual business suit, all black, no tie. He is nearly a foot taller than me, dark hair above his intense silver eyes.
“Christina,” he greets me. I frown.
“What are you doing here?”
"I came to see you."
"Why?" Alec smiles, and his ultra white teeth are perfect, his canines slightly more sharp than average.
“I wanted to know if you would accompany me on a date.”
“…A date?” He nods his head. I shake mine. Is he delirious? “Why would I possibly want to go out with you?" I say without a hint of apology.
He raises an eyebrow. After a moment, a smile slowly spreads across his handsome face.
“I do hope you change your mind,” he says, some type of teasing tainting his words.
A second later, he fades out, and I am standing alone, Alec nowhere to be found.
-
I try to refrain from thinking about him, about what happened at Charlotte’s house and that he had the audacity to ask me on a date, but it’s difficult. Underneath my anger, the physical memory is imprinted on me. I am constantly clenching between my legs, still aching for something that isn’t my hand. I have tried to masturbate, but I can’t seem to get there myself.
When a few more days pass, I decide I need to get laid. I am not the type to sleep around. I’ve only been with two other guys, but I am a twenty-six-year-old woman with needs, and I need to have sex. So when I start being friendly with James, one of the photographers on another team, he takes the hint and invites me out. Something he’s tried before, but I never wanted to mix work and relationships. Right now, though, I can’t seem to care.
James picks me up and takes me to dinner, and at the end of the evening, I invite him inside my house. He has a nice body, flesh and blood and definitely human. His hands feel good, his mouth on my body licking and teasing me in a way that says he has always wanted to. I surrender to it. His head between my thighs makes me uncontrollably hot, but it isn’t doing the trick, so I beg him to fuck me.
He fills me in one long stride, and I moan out with contentment. Him stretching me is exactly what I needed. I am a very active partner, humping up into him, biting his neck.
“Fuck, Christina,” he groans.
“Harder, please,” I beg him, and he does, though I can tell he’s having trouble holding back his own orgasm. Mine is teasing me, dangling me on the precipice of relief, but not letting me fall. He rolls to his back so I can ride him, my breasts feeling too full, my pussy throbbing, ass in his hands.
“I’m so close,” I cry out, and in the next second, James starts to cum. He’s wearing a condom, but I can feel the pulsing of his cock.
“God damn,” he moans, and I keep moving on him, helping him finish.
When he’s painting, he drops back on the bed, taking me with him.
“Did you cum?” he asks, and I pause for half a moment.
“Yeah,” I say, unable to decide if I feel bad about lying to him. I’ve never had to lie about an orgasm, but it seems rude to confess I didn’t when we both clearly had a very good time. Still, I am the one who didn’t get off.
Two days later, when James asks me out again, I agree, and we end up fooling around at his house at the end of the night. We build up to it slowly this time, spending more than an hour just doing oral on each other. When he does finally fuck me, I have real hope this time, but once we’re done and he’s asleep, I still didn’t get off.
I am frustrated.
When Thursday comes, exactly two weeks since I met Alec, I head over to have dinner at Charlotte’s again. Alec isn’t here this time, and I can’t tell which is more prominent; my relief, or my disappointment. I don’t want to be around him, I’m not interested in him. But my wanting state has me thinking insane things, and I’d be lying if I didn't say a very horny corner of my mind hoped he was here.
I go home and dress for bed, climbing under my covers, and when sleep doesn’t find me, my hand slips into my cotton booty shorts. I hump my fingers and moan out loud, slipping them into my needy hole, rubbing my wetness around my clit. I even start humping my pillow, anything to make me cum. I try for countless minutes, and finally jump out of bed, growling.
I haven’t had an orgasm since the night I met Alec, and I am starting to think this has something to do with him. I walk to the shuttered doors in my bedroom and open them, stepping out onto the little balcony. Trees block my view from the other houses, moonlight tinkling in around the leaves and casting shadows.
In nothing but a tight tank top and panties, I look out into the cold darkness. I have a growing hunch.
“Alec,” I whisper loudly, and he instantly fades into view, standing before me as if he’d been here the whole time.
“Christina.” His silver eyes take note of my half-naked appearance. I want to be angry about that, but I’m the one who called him here, though I wasn’t sure if he’d actually show. How did he hear me, anyway? Anger boils inside me.
“Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on?” I demand, and he smirks.
“I could ask you the same,” he says, eyeing me from my long dark hair, all the way to my naked feet.
“You know what this is about, Alec.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to catch me up on the details,” he says, and I fist my hands at my sides.
“You used influence on me two weeks ago,” I accuse, knowing it's true, but confronting him about it now.
“… Maybe a little.” Livid at his confession anyway, I slam my hands on his chest, but he doesn’t budge.
“You asshole! Maybe a little? Are you fucking kidding me?!”
“Perhaps we should step inside. Unless you want to wake your neighbors.”
God, he is irritating. I almost uselessly push him again, but instead, turn on my heel and walk into my room. When I spin back around, he’s there, inches away.
“Why would you do that?” I say sharply, though it’s underlined with hurt.
“Because you wanted it,” he immediately replies, and I’m furious.
“No, I didn’t! I didn’t ask you to, you did that without my consent,” I snap, and he looks amused. I need to get to the point of why I summoned him here. “I haven’t had an orgasm since the night you did that to me, and I want you to fix it.”
“Fix it?” he recites, looking interested.
“Undo whatever you did so I can get back to my life, please,” I beg. I’m not above it at this point. I just need to get off.
“So you want the ability to orgasm, but don’t want one from me?” he asks. I don’t reply. He takes a step closer. “Christina… you know influence only works when we’re in the presence of one another,” Alec says in his fluid voice, and I blanch, all the blood draining from my face and into my lower region. I did know that.
The longer I look into his bright eyes, the more lost I become. I feel the desire seeping in, just like last time, and my concentration trains on it, forgetting everything else. My breath comes faster, the awakening happening inside me again. Heat floods me, my uterus blossoming like a flower, my skin becoming sensitive.
“It seems to me that your problem isn’t stemming from my actions,” Alec says, and I purse my lips, trying to fight his powerful presence taking over me. “I saw you with that James last week. It’s a shame he couldn’t finish the job for you.”
“You were watching me?” I find my voice.
“I like you, Christina,” he says fearlessly, and I’m speechless. “Life can be quite dull when you’ve lived as long as I have. You interest me.” With his last words, my clothes become painful on my skin, and I before I know it, I’m pulling my shirt over my head. The air hits my nipples, and I gasp.
“Stop it,” I hiss, pulling off my boy short panties.
“It’s not my doing,” he says, and I feel my anger burning beneath the other fire.
“The hell it isn’t.”
Alec’s silver eyes explore my naked body. Puberty gave me a permanent perky ass and round hips, my thickness just right. My breasts are too full again, and when I feel the bed behind my knees, I sit down and lean back.
“You say stop, yet your legs are spread,” he says, kneeling before me.
“Because you’re doing it.”
“I told you, it’s not my doing.”
“Then whose is it?”
“Yours.”
“No, it’s not,” I whimper, my legs spreading further as I lean back on my elbows.
“You want this,” he says, and my head nods at its own accord. I instantly stop and shake it instead.
“No.”
“Then why do you present yourself to me like a delicate meal… begging to be eaten?”
“Oh please,” I moan out, which was supposed to be a cry of protest and not encouragement. His words alone are enough to tie my stomach in knots, but his alluring voice makes the idea that much more attractive.
“Let me help you,” Alec purrs, and my pussy is screaming for friction.
“No.” I shake my head again, but my traitor hips keep pushing forward, searching for his touch.
“Are you certain?” His mouth is an inch away. I wet my lips, debating right and wrong, good and evil. How much of me is actually present in this moment and not just a mindless slut dying to be used.
“I won’t touch you unless you say so,” Alec says, breathing cool breath on my heat. He is so close to my pussy it’s responding to him. I am a too ripe peach, my cunt swollen with need.
“You can say it, Christina,” he urges. His influence is enveloping me, consuming me in warmth. His breath is cool and his gaze magnetic, showing the silver hardness of his insides, a cold and merciless sex demon sent to test my restraint. A battle I’m about to lose.
“Please touch me,” I whisper, dying to know what would happen if he did. He smiles, moonlight glinting off his teeth.
“There’s my girl,” he says, and puts his mouth on me. I gasp as a wave of lust crashes over me. It turns my stomach inside out, it lights my heart on fire, my skin vibrating with sensitive prickles.
“Oh god,” I moan, right on the edge of my long awaited climax. Alec licks me with his icy tongue, the smoothness of it gliding along my hot, tender flesh. I want to explode. I look down at him, and he’s shirtless, though his mouth never left my flesh. He kisses my pussy like he would my mouth, his silver eyes holding me down, keeping me open for him.
I am reluctant, yet drowning in the sensation that is Alec. He has every ounce of my control, witnessing my most vulnerable moment. Everything he does is perfect. His tongue applying just the right pressure, flicking my clit and tongue fucking my pussy. I feel his cold muscle inside me, and I’m bursting at the seams.
And still, I don’t cum.
“Alec please,” I beg.
“Please what?”
“I have to cum, I’m losing my mind,” I moan, tears springing in my eyes. I have figured out that he’s controlling this. Me. My orgasm. His influence can certainly work on me now, and he’s using it, keeping me right on the edge of an unimaginably high cliff, letting me teeter. I wasn’t lying about losing my mind, I can feel the cells in my brain about to combust.
“You went to someone else when you could have come to me,” he says, then continues with his tongue. I try to squirm away to no avail.
“That isn’t fair,” I cry weakly, and he slows down. Alec makes his tongue wide and flat, licking carefully up my folds until he kisses my clit.
“The unfair part, Christina, is that you wanted it from me, and still went to him.” He doesn’t look happy about that, though his tongue starts working again.
“Alec, please, I’ll do anything,” I beg. I’m so close, tears begin streaking down my face. I haven’t cum in two weeks, and his actions are more bitter than sweet at the moment.
“I know,” he says softly as if to console me, but his tongue continues, lighting my intimate skin with icy fire on every pass. I am writhing under him, and no matter what I do, I can’t close my legs or pull away in the slightest. I am at his ruthless mercy, my hands fisting the blanket, and as I stare into his silver eyes, the answer comes to me. I know how to get what I want.
“Alec, I’m sorry. I wanted it to be you. You’re all I think about, please, I need you.” He wanted to hear me admit he was right, and I am so lost in stimulation, I do - whatever I can to stop the slipping of my sanity.
Alec smiles at me. "Is that true?"
"Yes."
"I like that," he says, and when he slips a single finger inside me, he gently strokes my g-spot, and I cum spectacularly.
“Oh fuck!” I scream, finally dropping off the edge of my vicious climax.
I am a firework, a bomb, a volcano. The most exquisite sensation I have ever fathomed ignites my body, and I moan incoherently, fisting the sheets, his hair, anything within my reach that will keep me grounded, but it doesn’t work. I am not here, I am everywhere, in a trillion, delicious little pieces. Every moment the sun burns more energy than a billion nuclear missiles, and I am easily surpassing that, my existence stronger than the life of a star.
My universe has boiled down to nothing but Alec between my legs as I cum over and over, my momentum unstoppable.
“Oh god, oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Aahhhhh!” My language is colorful as I contract around Alec’s icy finger. He continues to move it inside me, and as long as he does, I don’t stop cumming.
“There you go,” he encourages, and I can feel his influence trying to expend every last gram of energy I’m capable of harboring. As if I were a soaking wet rag he could completely dry just by wringing me out.
“Uunnaahhh Alec,” I cry, thrashing against his glorious torture. “You have to stop.” He shakes his head, still fingering me.
“You have more, keep going,” he says, and my back bows off the bed, licking my lips and tasting the salt of my overwhelmed tears.
My hips hump his hand, my cunt throbbing nonstop. My veins are burning, and I can’t tell if it’s the heat of his influence or the ice from his touch.
“Yes, oh yes, aahhh,” I moan, trying to concentrate on the delightful bliss pulsing from my pussy, and not the fire that accompanies it.
“Mmm, that’s better isn’t it?” he asks as if he can sense what I’m feeling, which is probably exactly the case.
“It’s too much,” I say breathlessly.
“Come on, sweetheart, you can give me more,” he says sweetly, and I try to surrender to it. A small part of me is still trying to fight it, to get away from him and his bottomless desire for my release. Little by little, I relax the bunched muscles in my body, and when I’m slowly grinding against his touch, the fire begins to turn cooler, a sickly saccharine tingling taking over.
“Oh, Christina, look at you,” he marvels, my hips humping in time with his rhythm, legs still widely spread, letting him do whatever it is he’s trying to make me feel. I let go of my control, and I’m so glad I did, the feeling finally dwindling to a manageable, orgasmic pleasure, tickling my relieved insides.
“That’s it, baby. You like that, don’t you?” he says, and I chew my lip. The fire sparks again. “Say it, Christina,” he warns, and I whimper.
“Yes, I like it,” I confess, and the embers dim.
He smiles at me, thumb on my clit, middle finger on my g-spot, his hand making a thick warmth, like honey, spread through me. “You know, our relationship will be a lot easier if you are honest with me.”
My exhausted lungs are still working, my breath heavy as I look down at him.
“You’re terrible,” I say, and he shakes with quiet laughter.
“You have a hard time saying thank you, don’t you?” he asks. A shiver rolls through my spine. Alec’s hand is slow and precise, and I feel his influence finally letting up. My otherworldly orgasm works its way from my center to my limbs, leaving me paralyzed with fatigue.
I don’t realize my eyes are closed until I feel his breath on my neck, his sharp teeth caressing my skin.
“Sleep, Christina,” he says, and my body wants nothing but to please him. I feel as if I’m under a blanket, finally satisfied, and I do what he says, slipping into a deep, vivid sleep.
Fawn
- 10.04.2021
- 18
- 0
- Category:
- Supernatural
