Chapter 97

~~Damien~~

A night off, finally. Maria had demanded he take it, after learning of his rather brash encounter with Parker and Vicky. Matt had said his pack were going on a trip and wanted their enforcer along, as well. He didn’t like being put off the hunt for a night, when hunters were out there, hiding, sneaking, and planning to kill them all. But he couldn’t deny that working nearly every hour of the night, every night, for several weeks, had been taxing.

Best of all, he could spend some time with Fiona.

“Mah apartment!” She swung the door open, and bounced several times as she hopped in, before turning around and grinning at him.

He followed her in, looking around and taking in the sights. It was, to his surprise, utterly normal. Fiona was anything but a normal girl, from her bouncy, cheerful attitude that could not be smothered, no matter how dire things got, to the fact she was also a literal monster. The apartment reflected none of that. No, that wasn’t true. As his brain analyzed, it became clear the apartment was, in fact, very cheerful.

It was a studio apartment, so it didn’t take long to take in everything. It was a cheap apartment, cheap building, on the edge of South Side near the Carthian district, and Damien found himself smiling as he looked at it. He was so used to the extravagances of the Invictus, and the eccentricities of old vampires like Maria, that he’d almost forgotten most people lived in simple, small apartments, in buildings that barely remained standing. He could almost hear the cockroaches he assumed hid in the walls.

She was messy. Well, maybe messy wasn’t the right word; a splattering of random objects on the floor, slippers, a plush toy, a pair of jeans and some socks, wasn’t exactly a mess. But her tastes were quirky and eclectic, that was for sure. On the windowsill, she had a couple potted cacti. On the walls, she had several posters of what he could only imagine were K-pop bands; supposedly considered music by the uneducated, to Maria’s chagrin. She had a desk in the corner, a small thing of wood, slightly warped with age, and a laptop sat upon it, with pink and blue stickers decorating its white casing. Her bed was a double, with pink sheets and bright blue pillows that reminded him of cotton candy. Several stuffed animals sat on the bed, most of them rabbits with big, child-like black eyes, and long floppy ears.

Maybe that’s why she liked bouncing around everywhere? Rabbit envy.

He took off his shoes, set them aside, and couldn’t help but laugh when he met her eyes. Sometime, during his analysis, her smile had become a frown, but it was too adorable to not chuckle at.

“Hey! I’m just a young woman trying to survive in a town, living off the wee bits of money I get from my meals. Dinnae make fun of my apartment! Ye wanker!”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I lived in literal holes for fifty years, Fiona. This place looks great to me. Looks like a home.”

“It does!” She threw herself onto the bed, and tossed her leather jacket onto the floor. Naturally, he picked it up and hung in the closet by the front door. There was a winter coat inside, along with a rain coat, and different shoes. A lot of different shoes, maybe nine. He was very tempted to tease her about that.

She was in jeans and a white t-shirt, one that hugged her large breasts in a way he couldn’t help but notice. Maybe she was wearing one a little smaller than she should have, so he’d notice she was wearing a white bra, one that made everything look so ... bouncy. She was also wearing white socks with little rabbits drawn on them.

“If you wanted, I could set you up with a more expensive place.”

“Ye can?”

“Yeah. Invictus pay well.” He was making six figures, and it was money he didn’t need. Maria considered it a standard pay for someone who put their lives on the line for the Invictus, while also being at the forefront of assaults as a Right Hand, and attempting to revive the Lancea et Sanctum. Perhaps he could put the money toward reviving the Second Estate, but how to do that was the bigger question in that regard.

“Maybe when I’m older. But, living in a nook like this is part of growing up, ye ken?”

Laughing again, he walked over to her and sat on the edge of her bed. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Besides, I like it.”

“I do too.”

She giggled, reached out, and started pulling his trench coat off his shoulders. “Are ye nae hot?”

He helped her, doing his best to ignore the butterflies in his withered stomach at the feel of a woman removing his jacket. Such a simple touch that elicited such a strong response.

“Vampire. Body heat not really a thing.”

“Like a lizard?”

“Sort of. More like, being cold or hot doesn’t really mean anything to me.” Sweltering heat, freezing cold, as long as it wasn’t literally hot or cold enough to damage tissue, it didn’t affect vampires.

“Oh. Azamel says ye Kindred are a distant cousin to us Begotten. The same, but different. The Horrors inside ye, ye call them Beasts, affect ye in a different way than us. Ye ken?”

That was an interesting theory. “A better question for the Ordo Dracul, I suppose.”

“But, I thought ye were religious? Like, religious for vampires? Do ye nae have an idea of where ya came from?”

“We do, but for vampires and humans. The Testament of Longinus says little about other paranormals.”

“Are ye nae curious?”

He nodded, took his coat from her, and hung it up in her closet. A sideways glance showed her bathroom door was open, and he could see the curtain of her shower; it was clear, with bright yellow flowers on it.

“I guess. Maybe a little. I try and let faith guide me, when I can, when it comes to questions larger than life.”

“Oh?”

“Mhmm. There are questions out there we can’t answer, and while I’ll try and keep an open mind to potential explanations”—against Lucas’s judgment—”I cannot deny there exists something beyond science.” He gestured to her, and him. Paranormals, magic, spirits and other dimensions, much of it existed outside the purview of science as far as he could tell. “God, or something equivalent, seems a possibility, and a decent one, does he not?”

She thought about that for a moment, tapping a finger on her chin. “As long as God isnae an old man sitting in a chair, judging people for wankin’ all the time.”

He choked on a laugh. Oh dear Lord.

“I suppose many Christians believe God is male, with a penis and a white beard, casting judgment for ultimately inconsequential actions and intentions. Lucas was such a vampire.” He came to the bed and sat down, undoing the buttons of his suit jacket as he did. Fiona was quick to shift over to him, take the jacket, and set it on the back of her desk chair. “I’m trying to be a little more open minded than he was.”

“Probably a smart idea.” Giggling, she crawled up behind him, hugged him snug and tight, and set her chin on his shoulder. “Mah parents dragged me to church every now and again, but I dinnae think they really believed it. Think they just wanted to teach me some morals.”

“They failed.”

The beautiful monster erupted into more giggles, and hugged him harder. “I’m a bad lass.”

“No denying that.”

“I should be punished.” She kissed his neck, hugging him tighter, and giggled yet again. She was excited.

“I ... I have trouble believing this is real.”

“Wha?”

“All the Kindred I know, get into relationships in bizarre ways, dramatic ways. They don’t start dating because they just happen to like each other, get along and are attracted to each other.”

“Oh! Drama! I see what ye need, now.” She got up and stomped around a few times, feet hitting her carpet with enough weight to go thud thud. “The world is going to end tomorrow, Damien! We ... we only have tonight. And I cannae die knowing that—”

He reached out, took her hand, and yanked her back onto the bed. With a squeal, she threw her arms around him, and the two of them landed on their sides, facing each other.

“Point made. Drama is dumb.”

“Oh I dinnae know about that. It’s fun, especially for a young lass like me.” Lying there, opposite from him and facing him, she leaned in closer and set a kiss on his chin. “And besides, I think there’s some drama.”

He raised a brow. “Is there?”

“Mhmm. I am just a wee lass, drawn in by the emo vampire.”

Ok, that made him laugh. “Two weeks ago, you tied me up in a giant spider’s web.”

“That was nae me! That was Vrall.”

“You are Vrall.”

Her smile broke for a moment, and she nodded. “Aye.” Sighing, she sat up, and he did along with her, only for her to sneak in behind him again, and start hugging him from behind once more.

“You ... don’t like being Vrall?”

“It’s nae about liking. She and I are the same, but ... like with yer Beast, do ye not sometimes wish yer own feelings were nae so ... fucked with?”

Oh. That. The call of the Beast and its hungers were instinct, a part of him, and after having dealt with them for so long, he barely noticed them anymore. “I suppose it’s a little easier for me to ignore it. It can’t talk to me. Assuming Vrall talks to you?”

“Well, Vrall cannae really talk to me. She is me. I have her memories, and her personality emerges when I’m in mah nightmare.” She hugged him tighter, pressing her body to his back as she squeezed. “I think that’s drama enough. Anymore and it’d be like one of my shows.”

Ah yes, the eternal sin of women everywhere: bad television. He looked over at her laptop, and smiled at the cute animals that danced across it as her screensaver. Undoubtedly, she watched Netflix and whatnot on it, and indulged other wastes of time on the internet. He envied her.

That wasn’t true. Her hungers were far worse than this own, and the dark side of her was a far greater presence than his Beast. And that, put her silly, terribly cute but juvenile home into perspective. He looked around, tilting his head at the pictures on the walls, at the obvious obsession with cute animals and cute musicians she had, and contrasted it against the nightmare horror that lurked inside her. She’d said that, when she was younger, she was haunted by nightmares every night, and that they were always about her being pursued by a creature in the dark, a creature with eight legs.

He turned his head and studied her bubbly smile. For so long, she must have been a fun, simple young girl, who did everything in her power to not let her strange nightmares ruin her. Tragic, he supposed. It must have been horrifying, to be stalked by a creature in her dreams, especially when her life gave no reason for it.

He slid out of her hug, and stepped up to one of the posters.

“Damien?”

“Sorry, just...” It was another cute creature, a ferret, pouncing on a cat, who was delighted to be play fighting. Not a photograph, but something drawn in a cutesy, silly cartoon style.

They’d both had rough lives, and she’d embraced everything fun, silly, bright, and cute she could get her hands on, to keep it from tainting who she was. Considering how powerful a force her horror was, it was a wonder she managed to do that. Most people, him included, would have let it destroy who they were, until they devolved into self-loathing. Moping, brooding, the things he’d done for so many decades.

“Do ye like that one?” she said, eyebrow raised.

He laughed as he smiled at her. “Not for me, no. I like that you like it.” He liked that, unlike him, she had a tenacity to her, a desire to hold onto who she was and what she liked. He’d been a malleable fool when he was her age. She’d stood against something horrible, something she likely hadn’t been able to understand, and didn’t let it break her. She was, by night, a scary as all Hell monster who devoured people and their fears. By day, she was a bouncy, silly girl, that liked rabbits, cats, ferrets, dogs, and likely anything she could hug, pet, feed, and take care of.

He supposed a more cynical view would be that she refused to accept reality. And that was a view he probably would have defaulted to, once upon a time. But, after having spent a couple weeks hunting for hunters with her, he couldn’t deny her optimism and joviality were affecting him. It was contagious.

She blinked at him, obviously confused. That was fine. If she didn’t understand why she did the things she did, all the better. They didn’t need two over-analytical people in the relationship.

“Aye, I do like it!”

“I don’t smell any animals.” With his new insight, it was a surprise he didn’t see at least a cat running around. Any minute now, he expected a small dog to hop out of the bathroom, or maybe for a chinchilla or something equally fluffy to land on the windowsill. Nothing.

“Oh? Oh! A pet, ye mean. I ... I’ve always wanted one, but ... I dinnae know. It might not like me, because of Vrall, ye ken?”

He shook his head as he came back to the bed, and crawled across it to join her. “That is a real possibility, but I think any pet you get and raise from a young age will be fine. That Eric fellow has a cat, and he’s a werewolf.”

She blushed a little at the mention of him. “Right.”

“I ... suppose you saw the cat I’m talking about.” Eric’s cat, a creature Jessy insisted was the most amazing pet in the world.

“I did.”

“Still surprised you’re dating me, not him.”

“Well, like I said, yer both stupid, but a different kind of stupid. I thought I liked him, but I know better now. I like ye a lot more.” She reached down, grabbed the hem of her t-shirt, and pulled it up over her head. Her hair bounced a little, but like her, the frizzy thing was surprisingly resilient.

Damien tried to keep his eyes on her, but when a woman is only a foot away from you, wearing only jeans and a bra, it’s hard to not stare at the chest area. It wasn’t a sexy bra, with special lace or anything. It was a perfectly normal white bra, and she looked amazing in it.

“I, um—”

“Strip!” Giggling, she undid the buckle of her jeans, and wiggled out of them. That warranted some staring as well. “We’re gonna do a lot of firsts today.”

He kept his eyes on her—more like, unable to look away, as he started undoing the buttons of his shirt. “We are?”

“Aye! After all this, I’m still a virgin I’ll have ye know!”

He raised a brow at that. Well, it was true he’d had sex with her horror’s body, not her human body. And apparently, despite her sexual adventures with Eric, they hadn’t ever had sex. It didn’t really matter to him whether they did or not, but it was surprising that someone as assured of herself, and extroverted and outgoing as herself, hadn’t had sex before. Funny that she was the virgin, while the scary monster inside her, had a history of orgies with cultures that worshiped her, centuries ago.

Wearing nothing but her plain white bra and underwear, and her cute socks, she reached out and slid his shirt off his shoulders. He almost didn’t realize she was touching him, as his eyes locked onto the sight of her body. Curvy legs, wide hips, massive breasts, and her thin-but-not-too-thin physique gave her such a soft looking body. Every part of him wanted to pin it beneath him.

He licked a fang, and Blushed Life. He thought about asking first, but stopped himself. It had become clear from their interactions that she wanted him to take charge, to be aggressive with her, to be the beast that hunts the doe. She liked being treated as a cute, innocent little creature, helpless to stop a beast from having its way with her. And, to his surprise, he enjoyed giving into the aggressive desires he normally kept locked deep in his chest.

Once he was out of the shirt, he took her hand, and set it against the fly of his suit pants. He also took her other, and set them against his abdomen, and the many abs carved there. Instant delight in her eyes, and she squealed between giggles as she traced them, while struggling to undo the zipper of his fly. He was being far more playful than he usually was, he knew it, she knew it, and it was fun.

She made him fun.

He helped her get the pants off him, and he made sure the boxers came off with, and his socks, leaving him naked. She licked her lips as she looked him up and down, staying close on her knees, and now using both hands to touch his arms, chest, and abdomen.

“It’s such a shame,” she said.

“Mmm?”

“Ye permanently have such a nice body, all lean and defined and ... mmm.” She almost purred as she came in closer, and set a kiss on his shoulder. “Ye cannae get fat! That’d make any lass die with envy, but, ye cannae eat food. Nae cake or pizza, nothing.”

“Lucas demanded I get into the best shape possible, before ... you know.” He struggled to keep his growl quiet as he looked down at the woman’s body. He was naked, but she still had her underwear and bra on. Not fair. He was blatantly aroused too, cock standing out from the smooth skin of his pelvis, announcing his obvious hunger.

“Oh, ye shaved it,” she said, sliding in closer so his right knee was between both of hers. So close, she set one hand on the small of his back, while the other traced down his abs, then down further to the smooth skin, and to the base of his member.

He shivered as she slowly encased it in her hand. The feel of a hand, fingers, palm, circling his girth in experimental squeezes, drew a quiet growl from him, and Fiona looked up at him with her big doe eyes all the more. She put on that please-don’t-hurt-me-I’m-so-innocent-and-pure face, bit her bottom lip, and continued to idly stroke the base inch of his length in slow pulses.

“I ... thought maybe, since it’s the ‘in thing’ to do in Dolareido, I should?” he said.

She giggled, but her eyes slid down his body with anything but silly laughter. They were hungry. “It looks ... really good ... here.” She let go of his shaft, and slid a finger down from his navel, down the abs beneath, and to where the muscles sat just above his pubic bone.

Listening to his own building hunger, he leaned down over her, reached behind her, and worked the clasp of her bra. It took several seconds longer than he’d have liked, and she giggled into his neck as he struggled. But she let him work, and soon the large piece of white fabric fell off her breasts, and with a little wiggling from her, down her arms.

She blushed a little, and it made her pale skin glow red. “Did ye like the pictures I sent ye?” As she said it, she sat up straight, and hugged her bust, forearms underneath while her biceps pressed them together. They were very bottom heavy, and they weighed down on her forearms as they spilled over them, while her pink nipples poked outward from her swelling areolas.

He stared at them, and gulped. He hadn’t been able to touch Vrall, being trapped in a web and all. But Fiona was right there, topless, inviting his touch. The last time he’d touched her like this, he’d pounced her, drained her, fingered her, and almost took it a lot further. This time, he could take it much further, all the way, if Vrall was to be believed; and she was.

He reached out with a hand, and she lowered her arms as he set his palm underneath one of her breasts. Instant tingles coursed through him, and he felt growing heat between his legs, as he marveled at the sensation of her pale breast sitting on his palm. It overflowed his grip completely, and he stared in awe as a small wiggle of his fingers caused it to ripple. He pushed up a little harder, just enough to make it bounce, and Fiona burst into a fit of giggles as she watched him experiment.

“Aye, I think ye did.”

He crawled toward her, but being already so close left her with no choice but to fall back. Her squeak of surprise was intoxicating. She blinked at him, but her surprise faded as he brought his head down over her chest, and set his lips to her breast.

Her squeaks and giggles turned into mewls, and he smiled into her breast as he slowly brought her nipple into his mouth. It was swollen, and instinct told him there was only thing you can do with a swollen nipple: suckle on it. So he did, and he groaned into her body, intoxicated by the sensation of her massive breast’s softness and how it molded to his face.

They could talk later. For now, he was going to do what she kept asking him for, what he wanted to do, and listen to his body’s hungers. Just give in, take her, have her, and drink her.

With him lying on top of her, half his weight on her and half on the bed next to her hip, his arm closer to her was free to find her legs. Smooth, curvy, delicious legs. As he slid his fingers up their contours, he could feel her start to shiver, quivering, but her legs spread without prompting.

He set his hand against her stomach, slid his fingers underneath her underwear, down smooth shaved skin, and down to her sex. Last time he did this, he’d had his fangs in her neck. This time, he wanted to try tenderly licking and suckling on her nipple first, before fangs came into the picture. It sent fire through his body, when he felt some subtle wetness on his fingers as they traced along her sex’s lips. She liked this, a lot. And knowing that she liked it, liked having his body on her, his lips on her breast, and his fingers tickling along her lower lips, was a loud siren in his head demanding for more.

“Damien! Mah tits are sensitive, ye ken? Be ... gentle...”

He lifted his head, but in that moment, found a split second’s disappointment on her face. Right, she liked being sweet, docile, but she didn’t want him to be like that. She wanted him to ignore her pleas, and have his way with her. He immediately set his lips back onto her breasts, and suckled harder, lifting his head so her breast lifted from her chest with him. She squealed again, and both her hands found his head.

They fell to the blankets, and squeezed her sheets into bundles around her fingers, as his wet fingers began to massage her clitoris.

“Nnn ... mmm.” She wriggled and squirmed a little, pushing her hips toward his hand, even as he devoured her breast. Her nipple swelled more, filling his mouth as he licked it, while his lips suckled, drawing it to his face again as he lifted his head, before his lips let it go. The way it jiggled as it settled against her ribs pulled another growl from him, and he licked his lips as he felt his hunger grow.

He backed up along her bed, slid his hand out from her underwear, and crawled between her legs. With her wanting him to be more and more aggressive, he let his natural desires out a little more; and they wanted to rip her underwear off. He took the fabric apart like it was tissue, leaving her completely naked save for her socks, and earning a squeak from her. He’d shocked her. Good.

He got down onto his stomach, hooked his arms under her thighs, and gazed upon her wet, tiny, glistening slit, before burying it in his mouth. Immediate gasps from her, filling the quiet room, and sending pulsing need through his body. Vrall had made interesting sounds, lovely and hypnotizing sounds, but the way tiny Fiona mewled and whimpered as he buried her clitoris with his tongue, was intoxicating in a way he hadn’t expected.

“D-Damien! Please, slow down!” She reached out with both hands and pressed them to his forehead, gently pushing him away. With his arms hooked under her delicious thighs, he had the leeway to reach over her waist, grab her wrists, and pin them to the blankets around her. More squeaks, increasing in volume as she realized she was trapped, unable to stop him, as he devoured her pussy.

Not being able to stop him set her off. Her squirming and wriggling intensified for a second or two, but as it became obvious she couldn’t get her hands off the blankets to stop him, it was like gasoline thrown on a fire. Her breathing quickened, her mewls turned into moans, and her legs quivered on his arms and shoulders, as more juices flowed out of her.

When he tightened his grip on her wrists, the reaction was almost visceral. She squealed and arched her back, and he had to fight a little harder to keep her down as she came. He hadn’t expected her to cum so quickly; she’d been on the edge of need for days then, like he was.

While he didn’t have any sexual history to draw on, he knew how to read, and had done his research. Instead of licking and suckling on her clitoris as she came, he eased up, letting her enjoy the bliss without spoiling it with too much stimulus.

It was his first time, and more importantly, his first time with her. Analysis skills kicked in, and he made mental notes of each and every reaction she made to his touch. First thing he noticed, was how easily she came; sort of made everything feel like cheating. Fiona was hyper into her sexuality, and he got the impression anything he did to her would make her feel good, as long as he held her down when he did it. Second thing, was how she gasped. A lick of his tongue drew a sharp inhale from her, that turned into a long groan as he rested his tongue against her clit, no longer moving it as she continued to climax. She liked being pushed a little further than his reading suggested.

It was like solving a puzzle, a beautiful, writhing puzzle.

He lifted his head and smiled down at her, her panting body, her closed eyes, her smile of pleasure, and her trembling legs. She was coming down from her pleasure high, and she giggled as she stopped trembling.

“Mmmm,” she said, voice a whisper. Once he released her wrists, her hands drifted up and down her body, fingertips teasing along her skin, before they reached out for his waist.

He slid in closer while sitting on his ass. And before Fiona could realize what he was doing, he took her legs, pulled them toward him so they hooked around his hips, and then he took her waist. He pulled her up toward him, and she giggled as she set her hands on his shoulders, sitting between his thighs.

“So romantic!” she said, smile only growing.

He gulped as he looked her body up and down. With her hands on his shoulders, and her sitting between his legs, her legs hooked over his and around behind him, he could feel her body heat. His cock pointed up, aimed at her stomach, only several inches from her and her shivering body. Her heavy breasts, jutting out from her ribs with their bottom-heavy, teardrop shapes, made each breath she took blatant and hypnotic. And the feel of her quivering legs resting on his and his hips, filled him with hunger for more.

He slid his hands under her ass, squeezed the soft meat of her body, and lifted her.

“Oh!” With more squeaking giggles, she helped him align everything, one hand reaching down and grabbing his length. “Be ... be slow, ok? Yer, um, pretty large, ye ken? And I’m ... nae.”

Nodding, he slowly lowered her down, and licked a canine as he felt the wet lips of her slit graze along his glans. He wanted to slam her small body down, feel her tiny walls spread taut around him, and watch her beautiful breasts bounce as he thrust into her. And, considering Fiona’s personality, that sort of rough sex was inevitable. But it was a good idea to start slow, like she asked. It gave him time to analyze her more, figure out what she liked from how she responded, and the longer he got to enjoy this, the better.

He lowered her more, and a quiet growl rolled through him as he felt her clenching, wet muscles spread over the sensitive skin of his cock’s head. Immediate sparks of pleasure danced down his length, and Fiona giggled and mewled simultaneously as she caught his eyes. He lowered her a little further, and she closed her eyes as she let go of his member, set her hand back on his shoulder, and groaned.

The slow journey of penetrating the feisty redhead, was exquisite torture. She was dripping wet, and boiling hot; combined with how tight and small her insides were, it made each inch he managed to slip into her euphoric. She squeezed in spurts as he went deeper, and gasped every so often, eyes staring down at him as her mouth parted. He tried to look up and meet her gaze, but his eyes couldn’t stay away from her body, her breasts rippling with her shudders, and her small pussy spread wide around his girth.

She winced when he started to press against her depths, but wince turned into another groan as she sank another inch onto him, stretching her insides inward as she snuggled her thighs around his waist. As her lips found the base of his cock, and her lovely ass grew snug with his thighs, sitting on them, her hands slid under his arms to hug him. She set her forehead to his, and smiled as she squirmed, getting comfortable.

“No ... longer ... a virgin!” She kissed him, winked, and hugged tighter, pressing her breasts to his chest and setting her chin on his shoulder. “Well, I mean, I used a lot of toys and stuff, but they dinnae count.”

He chuckled, but it came out constrained, mixing with a growl as his hunger continued to rise. “Con ... gratulations.”

“I can tell yer hungry,” she said, whispering into his ear, and nudging her body against him. “Ye can drink me, ye ken. Any time ye want.” He shivered as he felt her fingers trace up and down the muscles of his back and spine. “Maybe right now? Cause, yer ... inside me, and we’re all ... snuggly, and ... and I’m all tingly and ... I’d probably cum right easy, aye.”