Page 23 of You Only Die Twice

My eyelids flutter as something cold and wet peppers my skin. Snow! I stare in wonder as fat flakes tumble down on me, obscuring my vision. How is this even possible? I blink again and shake my head. The snow is gone, and in its place is the stupid ship cabin and Luka’s unblinking gaze.

He’s naked somehow, a fact that’s not entirely lost on me. Where before he sported a button-down shirt and sleek pants, he’s now a sensual statue. Each muscle ripples as he moves. I slide my fingers across his skin, looking for something from him, anything.

Shivering, I huddle into him, seeking warmth, something, but there’s nothing there. Just cold, unfeeling flesh. “Please.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can even think. I don’t know what I want or even what I’m looking for. What I need is inexplicable and certainly nothing that Luka can deliver.

I want dark promises wrapped up in a soft bow. I want danger nipping at my neck with a safety net underneath me. I want to live yet also be so consumed it feels like I’m dying. I open my mouth to tell him all this when he slides his lips across mine.

A sharp nip here, a lick there. Pain followed by soothing. It’s as if he knows what I need without me begging. He stretches one of my arms out and secures it to the bed before getting the other. I’m stretched out before him, a sacrifice for him to devour.

As he pulls away, I catch just a hint of sharp canines, but it’s so fast, so fleeting I’m sure I just imagined it. Even when I tried roleplaying with Chet, vampires never came up. I was never swept up in that craze, yet here I am, imagining them everywhere. One or two popular books later, and I’m a vamp junkie.

With a wrench of his wrists, he rips open my shirt, revealing the lack of a bra underneath. Since my days began to blur, I no longer put on underwear. What was the point? His lips slide down my breastbone, ignoring the aching peaks that are desperate for his touch.

His fingers find the waistband of my pants and pull them down, his lips following in a blazing trail. Further down, he goes until his mouth skims the soft, delicate skin of my lower lips. I shudder as he drags his thumbs through them, splitting me open in a slow, agonizing dance. My clit aches as he takes his time, opening me to him, studying me in a way no man ever did.

It’s like he’s seeing me. Not just my body. Me. My pulse is loud in my ears as his breath fans across me. I want so desperately to arch up, to force his mouth to my mound, but I resist. I don’t want to shatter this moment between us. Something is happening here, something deep and visceral. Instead of taking me with a ruthless need like usual, he’s slow, tender even.

Like a dream.

Sighing, I lie back, luxuriating in Luka’s lips on me. He’s so gentle, so unlike what I’m used to. Part of me knows something else is coming, it has to, but I don’t really care. After countless hours and days of nothing, I’ll take him as I can get him. If he’s being sweet, great. If this turns into a nightmare and ravages me, tearing the flesh off my bone, I no longer care. I just need an end to this monotonous torment that rots my brain.

His tongue snakes out, sliding between my inner and outer lips, tasting me, making a meal of my body. Slow. Methodical. Swipe up, pause, twirl around my clit, then swipe down. He keeps up this pattern, lulling my body into trusting him, my hips rocking ever so gently as he rewards my patience with his tongue once more at my clit.

My body feels heavy, languid. Even as my eyes flutter close, I know it’s not true sleep. That’s where I already live. It’s where I exist. Tears prick my eyes as over and over he brings me to the crest of orgasm only to have it ebb away. His torment is the most delicious and not because it makes me cry out with pain but because it forces me to remain with him in this moment.

Fucking Chet.

The closer I get, the more memories well up, memories I stashed away to never look at again. It’s as if his tongue is siphoning them from me, dredging them up from the far recesses of my mind where they were safely hidden.

“Give in. Give me everything. Don’t hold back from me any longer.”

Luka’s voice whispers against my skin, but still, his tongue never stops the endless trek around my pussy. Groaning, I shift, just a hair's breadth of movement, undetectable, but of course, he knows. He feels it, just like with everything else. Fire races through me as my delicate lips burn. I can’t identify the cause of the endless stinging, but I pull back, self-preservation beating at my skull.

His strong hands hold me in place, not letting me move an inch as his tongue renews its path, pausing every few moments to lap at the tender skin before making his way back up to my clit. Tears begin to fall in earnest as my body coils, perched on the edge of orgasm. I want to come so badly it’s like a cramp that starts at my core and fans through my body.

Again, he brings me right to that edge and leaves me hanging. I almost wish he would just beat me, flay me alive if he has to. I just need relief. Groaning, I flex my fingers, the plea on my lips.

* * *

Luka

My cock weeps as I stare at her pussy, soaking with arousal and blood. She’s warm, oh so very warm. Though I intended to fuck her, to force her to bear my aggression, this is surprisingly so much better. The agony on her face is far more delightful than anything I’ve seen in quite a while.

Her head thrashes back and forth as inane babbling spills from her lips. That I’ve rendered her incomprehensible is just one more layer to this delightful snack. Since she’s still human, her blood takes on the various notes of her emotions. Now, they sing with both unrequited need and apprehension.

It’s a bit more subtle than outright fear, but I’m finding that I enjoy this flavor far more than the other. It’s almost like a warm caramel over the bite of cold vanilla ice cream as opposed to toasted sugar, still warm from the fire. Both have their benefits and taste, but this one makes me want to just eat her up.

Her soft moans and whimpers pull at my cock, making my shaft swell and pulse as I lap at the treat so artfully spread before me. I had wondered if I should tie her ankles down as well, but part of me wanted to see if she’d fight back. She didn’t, and the surprise still rocks me to my core.

From the moment we first locked eyes, she knew I was a monster, a predator. Though I’ve taken from her body, she’s never really willingly given it to me. Now, she’s spread open, her thighs quivering with the force of her restraint. The animal part of her brain, the reptilian portion that keeps her alive, is what pumps that apprehension through her body and not some deep-seated fear of me.

I don’t know why that distinction is so important for me, but it is. Though I despise how soft these two are making me, the sliver of humanity I have left revels in her trust. I will break it far more often than keep it, but the few moments where she lets go and actually gives herself to me are ones I will treasure.

Pulling back, I draw my knife back up, sliding the edge in a different spot, smiling as the blood wells up and spills down, coating her lips and taint. I go to the other side and make another cut, letting that blood flow to mingle with the rest. It’s not the pain making her squirm. On the contrary. With each slice of my knife, she gets even wetter, just like that first night on the ship.

How reminiscent it is. Only this time, though still drugged, she’s an active participant. She groans and moans, rocking her hips into me. It’s a far cry from the first time. Varying my well-forged path, I switch things up and slide my tongue lower, gathering the blood that streams down near where her pussy meets her ass crack.

Her sharp inhale as I trail the tip of my tongue along that sensitive area is telling. My lips curve against her skin, drinking in the warmth, the life, the vitality flowing through her. It’s a pity that all of that will go away once we turn her, but it will be worth being able to ravage her properly without having to worry about something as pesky as her dying.