Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Theron
Her tempting scent draws me downwards. Yes, she’s washed every inch of herself between those creamy sun-kissed thighs, but no amount of soap could hide the delicious fragrance wafting up my nostrils as I kiss my way towards Aila’s honeypot.
My senses are enraptured by the moistness wrapping around me. I bury my face as close as I can get to being inside her. Tongue driving in so deep, I lick upwards with a rough stroke.
Not bothering to lift my mouth off her pouting clit, I tell her.
“We’ve got three days. Do you want this to go fast or slow?”
Aila’s head is tilted back on the pillows as she focuses on the sensation.
“First time fast. I am so ready for you right now, I can’t bear it.” Her tone is ravenous with suppressed desire. I have to hold myself as my rampant cock jerks with impatience.
She doesn’t have to ask me again. I’m all about those quick fucks to shake off the desperate craving we have for each other. The pining lust we felt at the start still burns in my throat.
I will never stop wanting this woman.
“As much as I love licking you out, sweetheart, if you want it fast, then I’ll let you choose the position. I choose then we’ll be here all night while I eat that cute snatch of yours.”
Just as I suspected, my decision fills Aila with delight. “Ooh, yes. I have dreamed about all the things I want to do with you, Theron.”
Heh. I just bet she has. I would be satisfied giving Aila delightful nightmares as a full-time job.
We kiss, and she lets me pet her with caressing strokes.
Pushing the hard nipples of her breasts into my mouth, she demands that I suck them gently, and then just a bit harder.
Of course, being bold is part of Aila’s character.
She pinches my nipples with grim relish, wanting me to suffer some discomfort.
No woman has ever dared punish me in such a way before. Baring her teeth at me, Aila pants with triumph. “It makes me so wet knowing that you will take the pain I give you, and you will like it.”
But she’s not a natural domme. This little cat just gets off on playing games.
Piling all the pillows in the middle of the bed, she drapes herself over them with her ass on full display. This puts her pussy in my sights when she spreads her thighs. Her voice is muffled when she speaks, but she’s eager and ready for me.
“Fuck me from behind. Give it to me good and hard.”
I take my time, because I am loving the view. Aila is freshly shaved, her pussy scraped clean of the dark, dusky pubic hair she had last time. Her delicious cooze is like a little slice of heaven as its tight lips lure me in.
I can’t resist giving the entrance of her vagina a lick with my tongue before pushing my cock in there. She braces, gasps, and then pushes back.
When those plump lips close like a vice around my thick shaft, I start to come. Using the wetness from her tight hole, I massage the hood of her clit with my finger. Tilting her hips, Aila moans softly as I pound into her.
“Ah, ah, I’m coming.” She screams hoarsely, unashamed if anyone hears her. It costs me some effort not to groan as the essence squirts out of me.
Falling on top of her, I can’t help myself. I bite down on Aila’s neck. It’s not a full-on bite. Her hair gets in the way so that only the tips of my fangs pierce the skin. But one taste is all I need for me to lose my mind.
Fixing my teeth over her tasty skin, I suck hard.
It can’t be for more than one or two heartbeats, but Aila feels it.
Fuck it. I’m overexposed and I don’t care. For the first time in countless thousands of years, I feel alive.
Aila doesn’t react. There is no gasp of shock or disbelief. She doesn’t try to push me away. When I’m done, I fall away from her, rolling over the bed as I lick my mouth clean.
She might be on all fours, but that doesn’t make Aila blind.
“Did you suck on me?” Strange. She doesn’t sound upset, only curious.
The heap of pillows in the middle of the bed is squashed down after receiving all of my weight. Rolling in the other direction, Aila turns onto her side to confront me. “Well, did you?”
Here we are, lying on our double bed together, each one on opposite sides as we try to find a way to meet in the middle.
“Yep. I’m sorry. I didn’t plan to, but you’re just too Goddamn delicious.”
Propping her head up and leaning on her elbow, Aila’s stare seems to pierce my empty soul. “Were you sucking? Or feeding?”
I should have known that this is where our conversation was going. Did Aila not just tell me she knew what I did at Harry’s Saloon?
Mirroring her position, I face her. “Feeding. And it’s not my kink, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Aila shakes her head, moving her hair away so that the sticky strands don’t glue to her skin. “No, that’s not what I was thinking. You’re a vampire, aren’t you? Everyone on Landslide—all the beautiful people—you’re all vampires.”
“When did you, you know, work it out?”
Aila rolls her eyes. “Duh. When you sucked my blood just now. Not even the most iron deficient psycho on earth is going to fuck me and then bite me. Not with my mom so close by. My overprotective, worrying mother… Plus, you punched right through a steel-framed crock pot into the wall.”
Heaving a sigh, I have to ask. “What are you trying to say, Aila? Don’t you want to be friends anymore?”
She giggles, falling onto her back as she tries to make sense of it.
“You’re so cold. You fall down when the sun catches you. All the shutters on the chalet windows are closed. You’ve never asked me out on a normal date. But that’s not what gave you away. Besides the bite, I mean.”
“Well, darlin’.” I have to grin. “Here I am, waiting for you to drop the hammer. What gave me away?”
Shifting close to me, Aila drapes her legs over my waist. We lie there face to face, those special parts of our bodies only inches away, and yes, I’m ready to begin fucking all over again.
Slowly, Aila touches my face, moving her dark eyes from one feature to the next, a rapt expression as she absorbs the sensation I give her.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about the night we first met. It made no sense that you would leave like that. We were fire together, Theron. For so long I thought you just abandoned me, but I was wrong. You made Mister Flashy Belt Buckle regret pulling that stunt, didn’t you?”
Putting on a precise legal accent, I make a joke of it.
“I can neither confirm nor deny the whereabouts of Mister Theron ‘Hunter’ Rabane’s son on the night in question.”
Leaning in, she presses those full lips of hers down on my mouth. Immediately, Aila pulls away and wrinkles her nose. “Ugh. You taste like my blood. And my pussy. It’s like licking a blood-flavored cream pie.”
That breaks the ice. We laugh. And for one moment, I think that we can just go back to fucking each other again. But Aila stops me.
“Tell me where you come from, Theron. I promise not to tell anyone. I mean, I have no desire to be categorized as some weirdo conspiracy theory nut job.”
Falling back, I drape the covers over my crotch, because I am enjoying our post-coital closeness.
“Nah, sweetheart. You don’t want to be bored shitless by stories about the Midnight Riders. At the end of the day, we are a lawless bike gang, out for blood and mayhem, dedicated to feeding on the weaker sex and filling their dreams with fucking and fantasy.”
Climbing onto me and leaning her chin on my chest, Aila hugs me tightly.
“Theron, that is exactly the kind of story I want to hear.”
My memories of that time are full of pain and suffering.
The rumors of a death cult rampaging close to our home began spreading in early spring.
It was said they worshiped a goddess of death, a woman so beautiful that one look at her face could strike a man dead.
She had to be carried in a tent, raised on a platform on the shoulders of her priests, hidden from the raw-white winter sun.
Survivors spoke of crazed hordes roaming over the mountains and forests, a huge army willing to live or die for the glory of the Red Queen.
At first, we put the rumors down to myths and legends, yarns spun by shamans who had ingested too much mushroom mold while dancing around the campfire.
But we were so wrong.
That’s the trouble with those who lived close to the land of Eternal Ice: life was already challenging enough without us adding suspicion and drama.
You might have noticed this personality trait in the Midnight Riders. We are stoical and monosyllabic, because it’s in our blood. And when we finally get to talking, well, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that we are men of action, and not many words.
Those ancient tribes who lived around what is now the northwest part of Russia and Lapland, they tracked the reindeer herds as far as the Grinding Ice Sea.
The harsh climate forced them to breed out all the weakness and emotion from their children.
These are useless attitudes to have during such tough times if you come to think about it.
If a man wasn’t brawny, brave, and uncomplaining, he was banished or forbidden to breed. No exceptions. And with so many Alpha males striding around, it was also forbidden to fight amongst ourselves or bitch behind someone’s back.
From the time we receive our first gátki—that’s the ceremonial coat given to a youth if they survive to see their thirteenth summer—we are free to act as adults.
We hunt, we herd, and we prepare the reindeer hides that will become our first lavvu, portable tents used when we move to the fells during the summer.
If a predatory bear attacked my reindeer herd at night, it was my duty to kill it. If the wolves came down from the mountain forests to sniff around the stone jars full of fish guts, I was the one to chase them away.
My family lived close to the forest. Our summer months were spent harvesting berries and smoking fish.
In those days, it was easy to take a girl by the hand when the sun was high in the sky and lead her into the forest shadows.
It was one of the older girls who showed me what to do to give her pleasure without the risk of putting a baby in her belly.
I found the look on a woman’s face as the first throes of orgasm began to mount inside her so enticing. Lying in the cool shade with the warm sun dappling our heated skin as I licked a girl’s plump slit is a sensation that’s hard to beat.
But underneath all my friendly campfire banter and ravenous rutting in the woods, I was a warrior, trained to be utterly lethal in battle.
I thought nothing—felt nothing—when I speared a seal through the heart or slaughtered a reindeer for the pot.
I would slice an enemy’s head off his shoulders with the same emotional investment you would put into chopping carrots.
That’s a vital part of me I want you to know. I’m a killer in my bones, and I think that’s what drew the Red Witch’s attention to me.
My family moved behind the village palisade when the army of death came over the hill. The tribe to which we belonged was considered one of the biggest; over five thousand people scattered over the fells and the forest.
We didn’t stand a chance against the blood-crazed queen. She had tens of thousands of devoted men willing to die for just one of her smiles.
She was on the hunt for men to amuse her, and she only wanted the best. The witch with the red hair found four such men during our battle.
Lurking behind the flaps of her tent, she pointed out the warriors she wanted taken alive.
Out of those four men, three are still alive, even though thousands of years have passed.
One by one, we were dragged to her tent and thrown inside. To be fair, it was not what I expected. The witch queen was loving and admiring when she laid me down and gave herself to me. She wanted men with the stamina to match her own insatiable appetite.
I guess that was me. I was young, dumb, and full of cum, as they say. And yeah, I sucked her blood when she offered it to me. Show me the man who would not.
With just one bite, she drained me of my strength and combative spirit. But one bite is not enough to make the change, and the Red Witch knew this. Sliding one pointed fingernail over the soft mound of flesh above the hood of her clitoris, the queen drew her blood for me to feed on.
It was only a brief lick, but that was all I needed to turn me into one of her undead servants. Weak and disoriented, I was thrown into a cage with another four captives from other fallen tribes, and Shadow. He was the first to get dragged to the tent and changed.
Try to imagine what we felt as the living tissue that connected our bodies to our souls began to rip away. Shadow was first, then me, and finally, Rundas.
I would rather queue for the gates of hell than wait my turn outside those tent flaps again.
Shadow’s brother, Heikkinen, was the eldest among us. He had a special knife hidden under his clothes. By the time it was his turn to go into the tent, he had a plan.
Aila finally interrupts, after having listened quietly for so long.
“So, is it possible to kill vampires with special knives?”