Read My Vampire and I Online

Authors: J. P. Bowie

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Erotica, #Romance, #Paranormal

My Vampire and I (8 page)

"Really?" I lifted my head from his shoulder to look into his eyes, so he could see my surprise. "You had never been in love with anyone else in all those years?"

 

"Never. Oh, there had been dalliances, of course. I was a young man, when I was changed. The need for release burned in me even after my rebirth."

"And hasn't abated much," I teased him.
He chuckled and kissed my forehead. "I could say that you are the cause of that, Roger."
"Oh yeah? What about Kurt?"

He grimaced and looked away. Ouch, I really should think before I speak. I sometimes have a tendency to spoil the moment with an ill chosen remark—like that one.

"Sorry. My big mouth."
"That's all right," he said, his smile returning. "I like your big mouth."
There are times when you can be really torn, you know?

Just the way he said, "I like your big mouth" made me want to leap on him and start another bout of wild, mind-blowing sex. At the same time I really wanted to hear what happened 73

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between him and Thomas. So, I resisted and asked him to go on with his story.
No, of course I didn't. I leaped on him, and we had another bout of wild, mind-blowing sex. What d'you take me for? An idiot?

* * * *

 

After the dust had settled and I lay panting and sated on his silk comforter, he threw on a robe, and left the room, returning some minutes later with, of all things, a pizza.

"Where'd that come from?" I asked. "I didn't hear you make the call."
He gave me an enigmatic smile. "I don't have to."
Oh, well. Ask a silly question. The pizza was great, washed down with some more of that delicious red wine he kept a plentiful supply of. "I wouldn't have taken you for a pizza fan," I remarked, between mouthfuls. He had eaten only a small piece, leaving the rest for me. "Why not? I am Italian, after all."
Right ... from Rome. An original Italian, even.
"So, you met Thomas and the Comte in the interval," I prompted him.
"Only Thomas. D'Arcy declined my invitation, and Thomas said he could stay but a moment. He had come only to give his regrets." "Damn," I muttered.
"But I was not so easily put off," Marcus said, acknowledging my dismay. "I said I understood, of course, 74
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but could we perhaps meet one evening within the coming week. He hesitated for a moment, seemingly uncertain, then he gave me a disarming smile, a shake of his head and was gone."

"In a puff of smoke?" I asked, cheekily.
"Brat," Marcus said with a certain fondness I'd heard colour his voice from time to time when he spoke to me. "No.
No puff of smoke, but his refusal certainly put a damper on my evening."
"Obviously, he had a change of mind," I pointed out, pushing the pizza box to one side, and nestling in his arms again.
"Mmm ... two days later, I received a note asking me to meet him in the Tuillery Gardens that very evening.

Apparently, the Comte d'Arcy had other business that would take him out of Paris overnight, and young Thomas was free to do as he pleased. We met there at seven. We walked and talked for hours, and then I asked him if he would care to accompany me to my home. He said he was afraid I would never ask, and in a matter of seconds, we were alone together, in each other's arms."

"I'm jealous, already," I mumbled into his armpit.
"Then I will spare you what followed."
"Thank you."
"Later, he told me of the time when d'Arcy changed him, and how at first, he had truly loved and admired the man.

Thomas was the son of a rich Parisian merchant who had commissioned d'Arcy to paint a portrait of himself and his wife. Thomas's father encouraged his son's friendship with 75

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d'Arcy, and so they were often in each other's company.

Thomas was dazzled by the Comte, immune to the rumours that surrounded him, thinking them nothing more than gossip and jealousy. Only after he was changed, did he realise that the rumours of d'Arcy's depraved behaviour were true.

"It was then, when Thomas threatened to leave d'Arcy that the Comte revealed the hold he had upon him. He told me how desperately unhappy he was with d'Arcy, but that he could not leave him. He was bound to him forever, by some devious plot that d'Arcy had concocted. You see, when d'Arcy changed Thomas, at the moment of his rebirth, he hypnotised him into believing that should he ever try to leave, d'Arcy could simply command Thomas's heart to stop beating. He would not die, but he would never rise again."

"You mean, like a kind of suspended animation?"

"Perhaps. But one from which he could never be revived. I was devastated. Here, I thought I had found the one man with whom I could spend eternity, only to have that dream dashed before it could be realised. Of course, I could not,
would not
put Thomas in any danger, and so we parted, after making love again ... and again."

"You're killing me."
"Sorry."

"S'okay. Go on." I nestled closer, hoping I was making a permanent impression in his side. I couldn't quite dispel the nasty feeling that all this reminiscing was going to make him look at me in a less than loving light.

"Of course," he said, "we could not stay apart, and so we arranged clandestine meetings whenever we could. It was not 76 My Vampire and I
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easy, for many reasons, mainly because our assignations had to be under cover of night, a time when d'Arcy expected Thomas to be at his side. Still, we managed a few moments together, here and there. Of course, it was not enough, and I started to formulate a plan to rid ourselves of d'Arcy's presence, once and for all."
"You mean, kill him?"

His long silence was his admission. "It was not an easy decision," he said, finally. "And not one that Thomas, at first, would entertain. He said he would tell d'Arcy of the situation and beg him to give him leave to go with me. I knew this to be madness. D'Arcy would never agree. But Thomas felt he must, at least, try. The night they spoke of it, Thomas came to my home, his face grim with hatred.

"'He told me to come here,' he said, his eyes pooling with tears, 'to finish with you, and never see you again or he would make sure that neither of us survived the next twenty-four hours.'

"I was outraged that d'Arcy had dared threaten us. My poor Thomas was distraught. On one hand, he wanted to never return home. On the other, he said he could not put me in danger of d'Arcy's wrath. I was not afraid of the Comte, knowing that my powers were greater than his. I told Thomas just that, but I was desperately afraid that d'Arcy would make good his threat to stop Thomas's heart. We decided that we would confront the monster and tell him that if he dared take his revenge on Thomas, I would kill him with my bare hands."

"Jesus," I gasped.
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"Of course, in my rage and desperation, I had forgotten one very important fact. D'Arcy knew everything. He had sent Thomas to me, knowing that I would never agree to his demands."

Thomas stood before me, his beautiful face creased with sadness, wet with his tears. I reached out, and he fell into my arms, holding me as if his life depended on it. I kissed his tear-stained cheeks, his luscious lips that parted under mine, to let my tongue win access into his moist warmth. We clung to one another, voicing our vows of love and commitment.

"
Never will I let you go," I said aloud, with a vehemence I hoped d'Arcy could hear. "Never, Thomas. I will die with you, for you, but I cannot let that fiend take you from me."
He silenced me once more with his kisses, forcing me down on my bed, pulling at my open shirt, tracing my chest with his lips, setting my body and my soul on fire. I divested us of our clothing with a whispered commanded, and nownaked, we consummated our love for one another.
"
Ah, Marcus..." His breath on my skin caused me to shiver with ecstasy, and I drewhim up in my arms, crushing him to me, feeling the hardness of his loins press against mine.

"
Oh God, Thomas, I love you," I sobbed, fearing that this might just be the last time I would hold him thus.
"
And I love you," he said, his voice calmer nowthan mine.
"Whatever happens now, please never forget me or howmuch I love you."
Our bodies meshed together in an embrace that I willed never to end. The heat of our mutual desire consumed us.
Now, he lay beneath me, his eyes entreating me to take
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dominion over him. He lifted himself up onto my lap, burying my steel hard shaft deep inside himself. I rocked to his rhythm, holding his sweet, smooth body pressed to mine, raking his mouth with my hot urgent kisses.

We took full advantage of our vampire powers to prolong this incredible union. Not for us the heated rush of passion so quickly over and spent. Our eyes locked on one another, we rode the waves of ecstasy that surrounded us, our bodies fused into one. One heart, one soul, one all encompassing love. But, in the end, even vampire control bends to the need for physical release, and so it was, that Thomas, his body stretched taut in those moments before orgasm, clutched me to himself and uttered a cry, half keen, half howl of triumph as he ejaculated, coating both our torsos with his creamy semen. My own climax followed his in a matter of seconds and filled him with the elixir of my love for him.

We remained locked together, allowing the vortex of our soul shattering union to ebb, and our senses to return to us once more.
"
Never," he said, his lips close to my ear, "never will I be able to relinquish my right to love you."

"And so, later that night, Thomas and I went to face d'Arcy in his lair. He was expecting us, of course. He probably even knew of the silver dagger I had secreted on my person, but he was arrogant enough to suppose his powers were greater than both mine and Thomas's, even should we combine them against him. Thomas asked him again to release him from their commitment and to let him go with me.

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"To our utter amazement, he agreed. 'Go,' he said, 'albeit without my blessing. If this is truly what you want, Thomas, I will not stand in your way.' I sensed a trap, but none came.

 

He did not deign to look at me, only kept his longing gaze upon Thomas, and when that failed to move him, turned away with a dismissive wave of his hand.

 

"We left his house immediately, filled with elation and disbelief. Thomas remarked that we had obviously maligned him needlessly, that d'Arcy had seen the power of our love, and had given in to it. Naturally, I wanted to believe he was right, and so, hand in hand, we ran into the night. "We returned to my home, I suggested we leave Paris, immediately. At first, Thomas was resistant, saying that he loved Paris too much to live anywhere else, but eventually, I broke down his resistance. We moved to London where I had a comfortable townhouse near Regent's Park."

He paused for a moment. "Roger, are you still awake?" he asked, giving me a little shake.
"Of course," I said. "I wouldn't miss one word of this story.
But tell me, if you don't mind me asking, How come you had all these homes everywhere? And money? How did you earn a living?" "That goes back several hundreds of years."
Well, I did ask.
"I think I mentioned my father was a Senator of Rome. He had amassed an enormous fortune in gold over the years.

Upon his death, two years after I had been changed by Polonius and then abandoned, I returned home. My mother was overjoyed to see me. I took up residence again in my 80

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home and, for a time, was able to conceal my true nature from my mother. After two years of fending for myself, I found it relatively easy to adapt to living again with humans.

 

It was a luxury for me to have my old room again, instead of the dank barns, ditches and caves I had been forced to take refuge in to avoid the sunlight of the day. I had discovered, the hard way, it could destroy me."

 

"You mean you got burned?"

 

"Horribly burned, Roger. I fell asleep in an open field, one day, out of sheer exhaustion. I did not know then that the sun's rays could harm me. I awoke to the smell of my own flesh burning. I was on fire. My clothes had all but disintegrated, and my naked flesh was afire.

"Screaming from the pain, and the mental agony of seeing my skin blacken and shrivel before my eyes, I ran like a madman. I still did not quite understand why I was on fire, but as soon as I reached the shade of a nearby thickly wooded area, the pain became less intense. I threw myself under some bushes and lay there, whimpering like a child but staring with disbelief as slowly, but surely, a healing process began. I discovered that day, that vampire blood made us almost impervious to things that would kill a mortal being. I would later discover that the blood with which I had been imbued was from one of the most powerful strains within the vampire world. In the space of a few hours, my body was whole again with no trace of burns or scars. It was a lesson well learned."

"But how did you live—I mean, find blood—didn't you need that as soon as you were ... changed?"
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"Yes, and of course, not knowing that either, I almost wasted away. Real food nauseated me. I could not keep anything down. Then the craving began. I'm afraid a nearby farmer went short of a few sheep and calves that spring."

"Not human blood then?"
"Not right away. A vampire can exist on animal blood, for a time."
"For a time," I repeated. "Then what?"

"I had to ... uh ... supplement my diet, so to speak, with the real thing." He paused, shifting his weight, so that he could pull me even closer to his side. I didn't mind at all, stroking his chest and flat stomach gently, with my free hand.
"It is a myth that all vampires are imbued with the instinct to kill anyone who steps into their path. I took blood from humans, yes ... I still do ... but only enough that I might live.

It is also a myth that those bitten by a vampire are doomed to become one of us. That, as I think you know, can only be accomplished by mutual transference of blood—and over a period of time. Otherwise, by this time, as you can imagine, the world would be populated by millions of vampires. In fact, the gift I give a man or a woman when I drink just a little of their blood adds a few more years to their mortal lives."

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