My Vampire and I Vol 3: Blood Resurrection (4 page)

J.P Bowie
23

entrancing as he held my face between his hands and leaned forward to kiss my lips. His touch was a rapture I had never known. I felt as if I were drowning, unable to resist the sweet allure of this mortal being. Everything about him tugged at my senses, and I wanted nothing more than to hold him in my arms forever. I bowed my head and took his cock into my mouth, gently teasing the velvety crown, running my tongue over it and licking up the salty essence that spilled from it.

He shuddered from the sensations I brought him, his hands caressing my face, his fingers tangling in my curls. I took all of him, down to where his cock sprang from a musky down of blond hair. His breath become a whimper of desire as my throat muscles tightened about the head of his hot hard flesh. A long low moan escaped his lips, and I felt him spasm in my mouth.

“Not yet, not yet,” he whispered, almost to himself. I raised my head, releasing him and, instead, climbed on top of him and began a long slow exploration of his body with my lips and tongue. He gasped and moaned, moving his body beneath me in slow sensuous movements that had my cock on fire and lust spilling from every pore on my body. I swept him into my arms and, for the moment forgetting my more-than-human strength, lifted him from the bed as though he were a child and crushed him to my body. His murmur of surprise alerted me to my mistake, and with a muttered apology, I lowered him onto his back, covering his neck and chest with soft, soothing kisses.

“You’re so strong,” he said, with what sounded like admiration. “You must work out every day.”
“Yes,” I lied. “Almost every day.”
He ran his hands up over my arms, across my shoulders then down my back, caressing and stroking each part of me,
“So beautiful,” he murmured, winding his arms around my neck and bringing his lips to mine. “I would like you to fuck me.”

“Yes,” I whispered, my breath catching in my throat. I knew that at that moment there was nothing in the world I wanted more. He lifted his legs and wrapped them around my waist. My erection slid between his thighs, probing at the tight ring of muscle hidden in the cleft of his buttocks.

“Condom,” he murmured. “You have one?”
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J.P Bowie
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A cold wave of disappointment washed over me. Of course, I didn’t have one. The need had not presented itself in a long time. “I’m sorry… I didn’t think,” I muttered.
He smiled up at me. “Then it’s just as well I did,” he said, reaching for his pants.
I sighed with relief. “Do you always carry one?”

“No…” He chuckled and kissed me hard on the mouth. “I was just hopeful. And…” His smile grew sly. “I also brought some lube.” He ran his fingers up and down the length of my erection. “From the feel of it, perhaps I should’ve brought more!” I tore open the foil wrapper and eased the condom over my cock. I coated my fingers with the slick substance he handed me then inserted them into his opening. He squirmed a little, bearing down on my fingers, drawing them inside him. Looking down at his sweet face, his expression one of rapture, at his lithe, tightly muscled body writhing beneath me, I was filled with an almost overwhelming desire to completely possess him, to have him forever in my life and never let him go.

As I entered him, he gasped, and his body reared up in protest, a moan of pain escaping his lips. I pulled back, afraid of hurting him, but his hands cupped my buttocks, and he eased me forward, raising his hips to give me greater access.

 

“It’s all right,” he whispered on a breath.

 

I leaned down to take his lips as I thrust forward again. He whimpered into my mouth, but at the same time, he wrapped his arms about me, holding me locked to him. Sweat beaded his forehead as he strained to take me in beyond his tight muscles of resistance.

“You’re so big,” he panted but did not pull away from me. Gradually, his expression of pain was replaced by a smile, small at first then widening as my cock glided back and forth over his prostate. “Oh yes, Constantine…” Now his hips moved under me to the rhythm I had begun, the pain taken over by pleasure. “Oh yes,” he crooned. “Fuck me, Constantine…fuck me…”

And I did. The sounds and sensations that surrounded us were like nothing either of us had ever experienced before. His mind was open to me, along with his body, and his thoughts were of ecstasy and bliss and of the best sex he had ever had in his life. And those thoughts drove me wild, for of course, I wanted this to be the best he’d ever had or ever Blood Resurrection

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would have. As I thrust hard into him, driving my cock all the way to the root, he cried out his delight, saying my name over and over, clinging to me as I pounded his body with mine.

Suddenly, he let out a strangled cry, harsh with need and pleasure, and I felt the surge of his orgasm erupt between our bodies, his hot semen spraying over both our chests even as I emptied my seed inside him. I heard myself give vent to a long low growl that made Gustav laugh and cling to me even tighter while we both shook and shuddered in each other’s arms.


Oh, mein Gott—du bist wunderbar, meine
Constantine,” he whispered in my ear. “
Und du bist das beste liebhaber
…the very best lover.” “Gustav,
caro mio
…” I pledged myself to him. “
Ti voglio bene
.”
“I love you too,” he said.
* * * *

To know Gustav, was to love him. In the days and weeks that followed, our relationship grew and strengthened until I found myself thinking of him day and night. The time we spent together was the happiest I had ever known, but at the same time, I knew that what I had to do would end it. Once the Master called me to his side, all earthly desires would have to cease. I would have to give up my association with Gustav and bend my will to His. This was my destiny, and it could not be altered. Not by me, nor any living being—

not even by love.

The end of times is prophesied in many books, including the Bible. Prophets, both genuine and charlatan, have pronounced Armageddon as inevitable. Numerous stories have been written on how to look for the signs of the approaching apocalypse—some based on fact, but most outright conjecture. Nevertheless, many believe it will come, and when it does, my Master will take advantage of the chaos to announce his destiny—to save mankind from its own destruction and to rule unopposed forever. Those who resist will be killed. Those who comply will live under the Master’s laws and will prosper, for a time. I do not pretend to know the end result of all this, for man’s future is hidden from all but the Master. I was not even certain what my fate would be. All I knew was that I was created to serve him and to prepare the way for his coming.

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You may well ask how someone as monstrous as me could find the power and the desire to love a mortal being such as Gustav. A fair question, for the answer is my curse.

Although I am demon spawn, I was born of humankind. I feel that the woman who bore me must have had a loving soul. She must have been a compassionate mortal with hopes and dreams of her own. I say this because of the moments of doubt I have about what I am doing—moments that recently have become hours, even days when my mind rebels at what the Master commands me to do.

Before, it seemed simple. It was my destiny. Now…now I find myself wishing for a different destiny, one that includes my beloved Gustav. One in which I would never have to admit to him what I am, and why our futures cannot include each other. If, for one moment, the Master ever guessed that I hold such traitorous thoughts, he would not hesitate to terminate my existence, regardless of what I am to him, or even more terribly, threaten Gustav’s life as the penalty for my betrayal.

There is no turning back for me, no change of course. What was decreed hundreds of years ago, I cannot change, no matter how hard I may wish to.

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Chapter Three
France, 1425
Bernard

The world outside the monastery was a revelation to me. Confined as I had been to its grim, austere atmosphere and subjected to the perverseness of the monks, this new and unexpected freedom filled me with a joyous anticipation that life would, at last, have some meaningful future. The sky above us remained dark and filled with rainclouds, allowing Marcus to cover a great distance on our first day of travel. Orion galloped as though he had wings, and with each mile he put between us and the Monastere de Dieu, I breathed a little more easily

As darkness fell, we found an inn where Marcus ordered a room for the night and a meal for me. I already knew that what the landlord served on a plate would not interest Marcus.

 

“I must go out,” he said. “I will not be long.”

 

For a moment, I did not understand, and then I realised what he meant. “Please, Marcus, don’t go,” I pleaded, scared that what he must undertake would lead him to danger.

 

“You can drink from me. I will gladly give you my blood to keep you safe.” The knowledge that he needed human blood to live should have horrified me, and in some aspects, it did.

 

Yet, I could not equate this beautiful, kind man with the tales of terror and loathing vampires inspired. After having lived a life of degradation at the hands of the supposedly pious, Marcus seemed to me to be my saviour.

Gently, he touched my face with his fingertips. “Thank you, Bernard,” he murmured.
“But I will not weaken you by taking too much of your blood.” He kissed my cheek. “I will return presently.”

And without further conversation, he left me alone in the room. A few minutes later, the landlord knocked on the door, bringing me a steaming platter of beef stew and a flagon of wine.

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“Your master must think a lot of you,” he said, laying the food and wine on a corner table. “He orders for his servant, but not for himself.” I did not bother to correct the man. Let him think I was squire to my Lord Marcus. It suited me well. And indeed, what better master could I have—he who had saved me from a life of humiliation and had given me the chance to make a better future for myself? I only hoped that whatever lay ahead for me, included Marcus.

I wanted to wait up for him, anxious to know he was safe before I fell asleep. The warmth of the fire and the goblet of wine I’d imbibed along with the food made me drowsy. I must have dozed off, despite my best intentions to stay awake, for I was suddenly aware of him moving about the room and pulling back the covers on the bed.

I rubbed my eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I must have fallen asleep.”
“As well you should,” he said, smiling at me. “You’ve had an arduous day of travel.
Come now. Lie down on the bed and sleep properly.”
“Will you not join me?”

“Later…you must sleep. We have another long day’s travel ahead of us tomorrow, and the inclement weather is of benefit to me. Once the skies clear, I cannot travel in the daytime.”

I nodded and started pulling off my clothes. “Did you find…sustenance?
“I did. Two very amiable gentlemen, engaged in a rather longwinded talk on the effect of the weather on their crops, obliged me.”

I looked at him wide-eyed. “They did not mind you drinking their blood?” His smile was beatific. “Of course not,” he said, chuckling softly. “They have no recollection of it.”

 

“But I remember,” I said, climbing into the bed. “I remember it with fondness and a wish that it would happen again.”

“That circumstance was different.” He smiled down at me as he drew the covers up to my chin then sat by my side. “Many years ago, I discovered that I could induce forgetfulness in the minds of those I drank from. It saves them from the horror the memory of my feeding on them would bring. I leave no mark and take only enough that I might live.”

“But then,” I asked, “where do all the terrible stories of throats being torn out and bodies rising from the grave come from?” Blood Resurrection
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“There are those vampires who do not care who they kill, or in what manner,” he replied gravely. “Just as in the mortal world, there is good and evil. But tales of bodies rising from the grave after being bitten by a vampire are merely myths—a superstition put about to terrify people. Vampires are not so easily made.” He touched my cheek. “But now, you must sleep.”

“I would sleep more restfully if you were lying next to me,” I said, silently willing him to shed his clothes and climb into bed with me. He smiled and passed his hand over my eyes.
I slept.
* * * *

When I awoke, I felt his presence next to me. Slivers of daylight stole into the room, and I stiffened with alarm.
It is much too bright,
I thought. I ran to the window and peered out. The skies had lightened. The storm was over, and patches of blue were appearing between the clouds. Marcus was in danger!

 

“Marcus…” I put my hand on his shoulder, and he instantly awoke. His eyes narrowed as he realised that the room was lighter than it should be, but there was no terror in his expression as he looked up at me.

“Put my cloak over the window, Bernard. That should suffice for the time being.” I flew to do his bidding, making sure that his cloak covered every inch of the window frame. The thick material darkened the room immediately, the only light coming from the fire that burned low in the grate. I thrust a taper into the flames and lit a candle by the bed.

“No daytime travel for us this day, Bernard,” Marcus said ruefully. “We will have to wait until dusk before setting out again.” He took my hand in his. “Thank you for being alert to the danger to me.”

 

I raised his hand to my lips. “I owe you everything,” I murmured. “If I have helped protect you, it is only a small token of the esteem I hold for you.” Blood Resurrection

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Sighing, he fell back on the pillow, pulling me into his arms. He kissed my brow. “The sunlight will bring me weariness,” he said, his lips cool on my skin. “Tell the landlord I am unwell, and we will stay another day. Order yourself some refreshment.”

“And for you?”
“I require nothing but the darkness you have provided. Go now.” He released me, and I ran downstairs to the kitchen.
The landlord was sympathetic as I told him my master felt a little under the weather.
“All that rain, I expect,” he said. “Damp gets in your bones. Would he like some broth, do you think?”

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