Chapter 17 – Dahlia #2
We both stare at it, at the blood as it flows, coating his chest, stomach, pants, and then the blood starts to slow to a trickle.
I watch it actually congeal in real time.
Now this is what’s different from the kills I’ve done.
Valtu isn’t dropping dead like the rest of them because it wasn’t a slayer with the blade of mordernes that stabbed him.
Instead his wound is healing before my eyes.
“What the fuck,” I whisper, forgetting for a moment that I’m supposed to be more shocked than this. Instead I’m finding it strangely beautiful, watching his body repair itself. “I don’t understand.” I glance up at him. “How did you do that? Why did you do that?”
“I had to show you that I can’t die.”
“Can’t die?” I snort. “What are you, a vampire?”
His gaze is sharp and steady on me. “Yes.”
This is the moment. When a vampire tells a human that they’re a vampire, there generally isn’t a lot of fanfare.
The minute a vampire speaks its name, speaks the truth, is the moment that the veil is lifted from the human’s eyes.
They finally see what they’ve only subconsciously known all along.
There might be some pushback, some refusal to believe, but they come around quickly.
Or so I’ve been told. I’ve always believed in them from day one.
Which begs the question: “Why did you just stab yourself?” I ask. “You could have just told me.”
He tilts his head at me, frowning. “Because you were very adamant you didn’t believe in the supernatural. I thought you’d need more of a push.”
I shrug and look down at the floor where his blood has spilled. “You could have not and saved your rug.”
He gives me a half-smile, blinking in confusion. “So that’s it? You believe me?”
“Now that you’ve told me, yeah I believe it. You’ve been doing a few things that I’ve tried to make sense of. Doing Jedi mind tricks on the teacher. Having superhuman strength. Being able to come a million times and still be hard.”
“Hey, that last one isn’t a vampire thing, that’s all me.”
Whatever you say.
“Anyway,” he goes on, waving his arm around. “I suppose I like a dramatic reveal. I am the one they call Dracula, anyway.”
Oh I was wondering when he was going to drop that one. Straight off the bat it seems. I wonder how badly he’s been waiting to tell me that.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Oh really?”
He nods, a sly smile lifting his lips. He wiggles his brows. “Oh yes. The one and only.”
“So you really are a count,” I muse.
“I really am a lord,” he says. “Your lord.”
I grin at him, elated that we’re finally on the same page. Or at least a partial page. I run my hand over his chest, tracing the wound which is in the midst almost being healed over, though it’s still red and raw. “Tell me, Count Dracula, did it hurt when you stabbed yourself in the heart?”
He winces. “Yes. A lot.”
I shake my head. “So I suppose you want me to do something to make it better?”
Now he’s full-on grinning. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no.”
I run my hands down over his taut stomach, sliding down beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, wrapping my hand around the thick hot length of his cock. The man gets hard in less than a second.
“So,” he says to me, a heated look washing over his eyes as he stares down at me, “you don’t have any questions for me?”
Right. I guess I should be asking him a million things about being a vampire, acting like I don’t already know. What I really want to talk about is Saara and Aleksi, but that will come later.
He’s the one who’s coming now.
“I do,” I tell him, batting my eyes at him as I stroke him. “I just find myself compelled to suck your dick. Are you compelling me to do that? Put your big fat cock in my hot little mouth? Want me to be a good little slut for my vampire lord?”
“Christ on a bike,” he says through a gasp, eyes going wide at my dirty talk. “I should have told you this much earlier.”
I grin and quickly yank down his pants, his cock bobbing free, then drop to my knees.
I wrap my hands around it again, slowly working them along his shaft, squeezing as I go.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” I whisper, teasing the tip of his dick with my tongue, tasting the salty hit of his precum.
“Call me your lord again and gag on it,” he growls, grabbing my hair and pushing my head forward onto his cock, my mouth taking him in.
Fuck, I love it when he’s bossy like this.
A switch gets turned on in my brain that makes me become so obedient, like he could do anything he wants.
Part of me wonders if that really is about being compelled.
Maybe it’s not so much something vampires do but that people naturally want to be compelled by them.
And, fuck, do I want to be compelled by him.
I swallow him all the way to the hilt and then slowly ease back, sucking hard as I go. “Harder,” he tells me, and I suck him deeper, until he’s hitting the back of my throat. “Take my cock like a little slut.”
His hips start thrusting, fucking my mouth slowly, his tight balls slapping against my chin as he holds me in place.
I’m not going anywhere, not that I want to.
I’m all too happy in my place on my knees, sucking on my vampire lord.
It feels so much more freeing now that the truth is out in the open.
“You’re such a good little whore, aren’t you?” he asks me, his fingers tightening in my hair, pulling on it until I feel a kiss of pain.
“Yes, my lord,” I moan around his rigid length, staring up at him through my lashes.
“Dirty, filthy whore, isn’t that right?” he asks me, and I know I’m doing something right from the way his eyes are rolling back in his head.
“Yes,” I say, the word muffled with his cock in my mouth, “I’m your dirty little whore.”
“And what are you going to do for me, slut?” he taunts me.
I groan around his thick length and slide my hands to his balls, gently squeezing them until he lets out a deep groan.
“Anything you want, my lord.”
“What do you want, little whore?”
“Your cum.”
“Then beg me for it.”
He gives me a couple of slow, hard pumps, working his thick cock against my tongue.
“Please, my lord,” I whimper. “Please, let me taste your cum.”
This is so fucking wild. I’m so turned on that I’m tempted to start playing with myself, to give myself some relief, but right now I want it to be all about him.
I want him to know that his truth didn’t scare me, that my feelings didn’t change, and that I’m still completely his, even if he’s a vampire.
He leans forward, his cock pushing deep into my throat, and I know that my only option is to suck him and swallow him completely.
“That’s it,” he says, his words turning into a groan. “Take it all.”
He thrusts into me a few more times and then he’s coming, hot and thick and salty, straight down my throat. I swallow him greedily, not letting a drop go to waste, and then when I’m done, I pull my face back and stare up at him.
He smirks at me, a look of total satisfaction on his face.
“I think you enjoyed that,” he muses, breathing hard. “More than you usually do.”
“Maybe a secret fantasy of mine has always been to suck Dracula’s dick,” I say, getting to my feet, feeling off-balance. I’m about to wipe my mouth and chin but Valtu quickly leans in, grabs my jaw and licks his cum off my face like I’m an ice cream cone.
My eyes go wide. This guy is full of surprises.
“What did I ever do to deserve you?” he asks, his eyes heavy-lidded. After the night we’ve had, I think the best course of action is to head to bed.
“You must have done something right in your life,” I tell him.
The dazed smile on his face fades. I’ve said the wrong thing.
“What?” I ask.
He swallows hard, his expression grave. “You do realize what this all means, don’t you? I’m a vampire, Dahlia. I’m not a good person. I’m barely a human. I’m a predator.”
“I know what it means,” I begin. “And I have so many questions. I just don’t want to be overloaded with information right now.”
He nods slowly, seeming to buy that. “You’re different, you know that? Different than any human I’ve ever told.”
Oh shit. “Oh? What do they normally do when you tell them?”
“Well, they don’t suck my dick,” he says with a chuckle.
“And they bombard me with questions, for sure. But they’re afraid.
No matter what or how quickly they believe me, they’re all afraid.
A few lose the fear over time, and with some we formed good relationships in the process, but almost everyone is afraid of me. ”
“But I’m not afraid.”
“No, you’re not. And I can tell you’re not. I could smell if you were. There was only one other person I knew who…” he trails, looking confused for a moment, like he was trying to recall a memory but lost it.
“I’m not afraid because I know you. I don’t know how I do, but it’s true. All those things you said about how familiar I seem? It’s the same with you, except it’s not about how familiar you are rather…” I bite my lip, not wanting to go on.
“What?” he whispers, grabbing my hand, his eyes imploring. “What?”
“Rather I feel like I’ve loved you before,” I say, looking away, not wanting to make eye contact. I already feel too vulnerable as it is.
“That’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me,” he says softly.
“Hey, look at me.” He raises my chin so I look at him.
“I mean that.” He leans in and kisses my forehead.
“I’m glad you’re not afraid. I was so worried that when I one day told you, you would run.
That was my fear. But you didn’t run, instead you’ve dug in your heels.
It’s why I feel we are one and the same.
I know what it’s like to feel you don’t belong in this time. In this world.”
He pauses, his lips moving to my mouth, leaving a ghost of a kiss. “I will make you feel like you belong with me.”