Iron Smut - Vampires
by Merith
Somewhere a water dripped. From a faucet, from the ceiling, from an overflowing tub, I knew not but it was a persistent noise, and the ache in my head kept time with each minute splash.
Somewhere a violin played. Mozart or Strauss or one of those long dead composers. Each note was soothing, cooled burning nerves.
The darkness was complete, and I thought myself blindfolded. But I could still hear, and I could still feel. Interwoven amidst the strands of music, there was the drip from somewhere to my left and my own ragged breathing. A rib was cracked, maybe broken. I was pretty sure my lungs were in tact, since I wasn't tasting blood and there wasn't a wheeze when I drew air.
That man had been stronger than he looked.
Maybe it had been the fancy clothes, with that long cape. Maybe it had been the hair. Maybe I had been foolish. But, he'd been accosting the barmaid. I couldn't have let it alone, despite all the advice given to the contrary.
Vampires. They were only legends to frighten.
I had lost track of time somewhere. Though it had been barely eleven when I'd left the stable and stumbled on the man's attack of the girl, I knew it was much later now. Hours must have past, but not more than a day. Heavy cords bound my hands together, with arms drawn up over my head. My shoulders were past pain and long into numb dullness.
The violin stopped. And suddenly it was only my own breathing I was hearing. The more I listened, the louder it was.
It was a touch, gliding and whispering soft on my face. I pulled away and heard the muted chuckle.
"You have fight left. That is good." The voice was low and quiet but strong. Trying to pierce through the blindfold, I glared in his direction.
"Release me."
"No," the voice answered and I felt his hands on me once again. "I think not."
His hands were at my shirt this time, on my chest. There was a tug and a rip and I felt air, raw and cool brushing over skin. His palms were warm and strangely gentle, feeling down my ribs on each side. And though I had every intention of not moving, he found the rib and I was wincing away from his touch.
Consciousness wavered. A myriad of voices were loud and grew faint. Awareness was gone.
Soft, warm, comfortable. I was in a bed and I wasn't alone.
Opening my eyes didn't help much. It was almost as dark as the blindfold had been. But I felt him. He was laying next to me, his hand was on my chest - my bare chest. I was no longer bound, but... he had taken my clothes.
"You're awake." It was the same voice which taunted me from before. A shifting of covers and I felt him hovering over me.
My eyes were blind in the darkness; his presence above me darker shadow. "Will you let me go?"
There was a warmth and his "no" floated over my chin and his lips were on mine. I wanted to jerk away, to push him off of me, but didn't. Couldn't. My eyes were closing and I was reaching for him. Instead of shoving him away, my hands were on his shoulders, pulling him closer.
He was chuckling softly, and I felt a leg sliding between my own. "I will not let you go," he was saying, his hands were on either side of my face. "But I will free you."
On their own accord, my legs were parting, letting his body fill the space between them. Heart thundering in my chest, hands in a talon grip on his shoulders tangled in his hair, I tried to shake my head. His freedom was as chains to bind me to him.
And already I was lost.
Never had I laid with a man - or woman - but I felt him, thick, long and hot pressing against my hip. I felt my own cock responding, my body wanting to wrap itself around him. And his mouth was at my neck. His tongue swiped at a spot just below an ear near where the jaw was hitched. Even as I was tilting my head away, offering up my own death, I was forcing my hands to push at him.
"No."
The air was sudden and cold, and I was clutching at nothing. In the dark, I heard only the slightest noise, the slid of material over skin.
"So be it," the voice said. There was a snap of fingers and the light was instant and as blinding as the dark had been a moment before.
I covered my eyes, wiping away the tears and started when the door slammed shut. Blinking back the wetness, I was already moving towards the edge of the bed. Larger than any showroom king-size, it would have dwarfed my entire flat back home. But, the candlelight wavered, and the door opened a moment later.
"Master sent me," the blond man was saying, he was more gliding over the richly carpeted floor than walking. "I am Quatre, and I'll be taking care of you."
"Master?" I was standing, now, trying to see everywhere at once.
The blond only nodded and smiled. "He thought you would like a bath." His arm flowed out from his body and he gestured open-palmed to a room beyond. "It is ready when you are."
A bath. I was looking down at myself, and noticed the blood and dirt and something I didn't want to know. Cock erect and jutting out, it was making itself painfully known. Quatre was watching me, but I moved towards the other room, letting him follow as he would.
The "bath" was as big as the bed had been. There were lakes smaller. But it was filled with steaming water, and even though the rib didn't hurt any longer, muscles were protesting with each stride. Sunk deep into the floor, the bath was tiled in an orient flare. Three steps led down.
I sat on the ledge circling the bath, the water rose to mid-torso. It was then I saw that Quatre had followed me and was removing his clothing.
"What are you doing?"
His fingers stilled on his shirt ties. "Do you not want me to wash you?"
"No!" I knew I was glaring, but no man was going to touch me - except him. A cloth was neatly folded on the rim of the bath with a jar of what I could only assume was soap. "I can handle that chore myself." And to prove it, I snatched up the cloth and dipped it in the jar.
Quatre was nodding, picking up his clothes and backing out of the room. "I'll see that food is brought to your room then." He paused at the door, his look pointed and staring.
My cock was still at attention.
It didn't take long to scrub away the dirt and blood. I even dunked my head, and used the jar's contents on my hair. The cloth was soft but strangely rough. It had felt good on my cock, on my balls. I let my eyes close, let my head drop back against the side of the bath. That man, that vampire... his touch had felt good.
I was almost feeling his touch now, imaging how his hand would feel stroking my cock - how his cock would have felt in my hand or my mouth or in my ass. If I hadn't said no.
His hair was flowing around me, plastering itself to my arms, wrapping about my body. His hand was on my cock, his fingers a tight circle. I heard him whispering, nonsense words or something foreign. His lips were at my neck, on my jaw and on my lips. I opened my mouth for him, let his tongue enter me.
Heero...
My name was in the air, and I was gasping, wanting more.
come...
It was a command I had to follow. As his mouth moved to my neck, his tongue licked and his teeth nipped, I was coming. Hips thrust up off the ledge, a cry shouting and pain overwhelming and sensuous at my neck.
I woke back in bed again.
The candles were still lit and he was watching me. I was watching him, and wondered if I had imagined him or if he had been there. He was laying on his side, his head propped up on a hand and his other was idly stroking his cock. His hair was loose, falling over shoulders and down his back.
I touched the ends of on strand, flicked my eyes up to his face. He was smiling a bare hint of a smile, and a eyebrow rose. Dropping my eyes to watch his hand move, the stirring began again. I wanted to feel his cock, taste his flesh. And I was moving before the thought had finished.
It was large and choking, but I sucked on it anyway. Warm with a salty tang, I tried to swallow his cock. Vampires were supposed to be dead, and the dead were supposed to be cold. This man - Duo - was neither.
"Easy," he was saying, his hands in my hair. "We have an eternity."
I had to taste him, all of him. Eternity could wait; I wanted NOW.
Each of his balls were different in shape and size. His skin was smooth, not tasteless but of a flavor unknown to me. His asshole sharp and pungent, like a heady wine.
I wanted him.
Go ahead. Be free.
I raised my head and looked at him. Reclined on the pillows, he watched from between bent knees. He nodded and spread his legs wider. I sat up, kneeling between them.
Fuck me.
And I was crawling up his body, sucking his mouth into mine, and guiding my cock into his ass. His legs were wrapping around my waist, and I was inside of him. There were no word, just soft grunts and me grinding into him. His eyes didn't close but his lips parted. And I watched him as he came, felt the splash of his semen against my stomach, felt the contraction of muscle around my cock. And still I rocked into him.
And as I came, I was freed.
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