Temptation's Kiss Ch. 01

The full moon gave the newly fallen snow a soft blue cast; the chill air causing Branwen’s breath to cloud so thickly it was difficult to see through. She closed her mouth, breathing through her nose in dragonlike puffs, fighting to keep eye contact with the dark figure just inside the tree line.

He was tall, over six feet, wearing a long black duster, a wide-brimmed black hat, and high black leather boots. He might have seemed out of place, but his posture suggested that he was the only one at home with where he was, and everybody else was the anachronism. Half-lidded, slitted red eyes held hers through tinted sunglasses, and his hair was shaggy, long, and black as a raven’s wing over his shoulders. A cruel smile twisted his thin lips, suggesting just the hint of wickedly overlong canines.

His voice was soft, seductive, slightly accented and altogether alluring. “You’ve followed me a long way to just stand there, now, Branwen. You think I hold the answers… Well, maybe I do, but you will never find them out standing out in the snow like a fool. Come with me.”

Branwen shivered, not just with the cold. She noticed that the man’s breath did not cloud, and the chill seemed not to affect him. Where she hunched over and stumbled, he seemed relaxed and at ease. The cruel smile altered little, but now his alien eyes seemed to warm just a touch behind the tinted glasses. “You’ll never learn anything if you freeze to death, girl. I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” He held out his gloved hand in invitation to her. “Come with me.”

With one last, delicate shudder, she reached out and took his hand. She expected cold, hard, unyielding flesh, and was met with warmth as the long fingers curled around her hand and gently pulled her closer. She felt her resolve melting away in that warm contact, her eyes recaptured by his, and any will she may have had left was no longer stopping her in her inexorable approach.

The stranger wrapped his long duster around her shoulders, holding her close to him, and his warmth was soothing like slipping into a hot bath. She sighed wordlessly, and nearly swooned for the relief. His body against her felt hard muscled and smooth beneath the silk shirt he wore, his hands large and strong where he held her shoulder, trapping her. Her breath hitched in her throat, and he smiled again, this time gentle, soothing, seductive. He hushed her quietly and gathered her up in his arms as though she were a child, and carried her through the snowy night.

She was lulled by his soft tones and comforting warmth, and slept with her head against his chest… in her entranced state she did not notice that her paramour had no heartbeat…

She awoke languidly, a soft voice calling her up from her deep lethargy. Calling her name. She opened her eyes to see the stone-walled chamber, lit by a fire in a large fireplace and long black taper candles in brass sconces along the tapestry-covered walls. A tall cheval mirror stood off to one side, dusty from lack of use, though beautiful, antiquely ornate. The door looked heavy, oaken and the hinges were of thick cast-iron in a very old style she had not seen except in history books. A narrow window overlooked a moonlit courtyard far below; an English teagarden delicately traced in rosebushes. The bed beneath her was large and soft, covered in deep velvet down comforters and fluffy pillows. Above her rose the canopy, draped in dark burgundy velvet curtains. It was immaculately beautiful.

As she pulled herself up to sitting, she noticed that she was no longer wearing her street clothes, instead clad in a silken black gown that exposed much of her neck and cleavage.

She gazed around her in amazement and was met again by the stranger’s red eyes, this time uncovered. With a start she attempted to cover herself. He was draped over a nearby high-backed chair, looking cool with a slight, nasty grin. He was stripped down to just the white silk shirt, opened to the waist, tight black leather pants and high boots, his hair falling freely over his slim shoulders in night black splendor. He raised a high arched eyebrow, bemused. “Sleep well, my dear?” he drawled.

Now, fear closed her mouth. She could not speak for the constriction of her throat around her pounding pulse. She backed away across the bed, winding up with her back against the elaborate mahogany headboard, shaking her head and trembling.

He cocked his head, looking intrigued, and sat up straighter, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his chin on his long, steepled fingers. Her lower lip quivered, even as the thought of running her fingers through his silken black hair crossed her terrified mind. She wondered idly what kissing those pale cruel lips would be like, and shook her head to clear her mind. This was insane! Her life was forfeit! What had she done? He didn’t move, but captured her eyes again, easy as a cat captures a mouse in a corner, and she felt a lump rise in her throat.

His eyes warmed, his brows knitting in sweet concern, his lips pursing slightly. When he spoke his voice was tender, soothing. “What frightens you so much, girl? I already said I would not kill you, unless you asked me to…”

“Y-y-you’re a…a… vampire!” she gasped finally, tears streaming down her cheeks, her hands flying up to cover her exposed throat. She began to sob, terrified.

He nodded, his eyebrows raised, looking down with a slight smile, “Indeed, I am just that. But, I am also a man of my word. I promised that I would not kill you, and I hold to that. You wanted answers, and I will give them to you. But nothing is free; there will be a price. Not your life, mind. Just now, for saving your life, the price is: a kiss.”

Branwen’s eyes widened, her tears startled clean away. “A kiss? That’s it?”

A hungry look crossed his handsome face, and he cocked his eyebrow at her again. “For now,” he replied softly, “the more you ask, the more I take. Understand?”

She nodded slowly and stayed very still as though in the presence of a predator as he slinked across the bed to kneel before her. She closed her eyes as his arms came up around her and his warm lips pressed against hers. She willed her heart to stop it’s pounding, as she was sure he could hear it, feel it through her skin, and that it would get his attention like waving a red flag.

He pulled away slightly and looked into her eyes, whispering, “It’s not much of a kiss if only one party is doing the kissing, mio tessoro. Am I so horrible? I think I deserve a kiss for what I have done for you.”

She worried her lower lip with her teeth, stopped herself quickly for fear she should cause her lip to bleed, and tilted her head back slightly to accept his kiss again. He did not lean forward, only watching her expectantly. A chill coursed through her as she realized that he wanted her to kiss him now.

She swallowed, feeling very like a sparrow within the claws of a great tiger, being asked to preen his whiskers, so near those teeth! She put the thought aside, focusing instead on his sharp, handsome features; his sensuous lips, high cheekbones, warm, dark eyes, as in shadow she could not see the preternatural red colour, and long, beautiful black hair. A handsome man, indeed.

She indulged herself and ran her fingers through his hair, leaning in for the kiss he desired, and was surprised as his lips parted and he ran his tongue sensuously along hers. She could feel the long fangs on either side, but he did not bring them into play at all. She sighed, melting into his arms, her head tilting back, her fingers gripping his shoulders, holding him close. She felt his long fingers in her own red curls, stroking her neck, her face, her shoulder. As he parted from the kiss, his hand lingered on her cheek and he smiled warmly for her. “There, now. Was that so bad?”

She blushed, abashed, and smiled back, “No, it wasn’t…” Now, she realized she did not even know his name. Would he require a price for this request? She wondered if he would even tell her, as names have a power of their own. Thought, perhaps, it might not be so bad a price… “What is your name?”

His grin suggested that he had thought of this himself, cocking his head. “The price for that answer might be a bit more dear, my pet. How far are you willing to go for the answers you seek?”

“What will that one cost me?” she asked boldly.

He grinned, pleased. “Oh, well, perhaps more than a kiss, I think. My name is an important thing to our relationship, is it not?” He nuzzled her ear gently, breathing warmly into it as he said, “I should love to see you without that gown on, and touch your silken skin. For my name, that is my price.”

She considered this for a moment, her heart now pounding with something that was not entirely fear, but just as primal. Her sense of decency was going to have to go to hell tonight, she mused. She wondered if he was the one to change her clothes? Or does he have servants?

Sitting back, he let her go, and watched her as she slowly pulled the silky gown off over her head. Suddenly, mid-motion, he grabbed her arms, trapping her effectively blindfolded and bound with the black silk, and planted another hot kiss on her gasping lips. His free hand was soft as it caressed her naked body, down her shoulder, cupping her breast briefly, across her belly and along her thigh until it rested on the small of her back, the sharp fingernails grazing her flesh tantalizingly. She shuddered at his touch, writhing to free herself, but his voice in her ear stilled her.

“You only make yourself more inviting with your struggles, my dear, and if you free yourself then you will not get what you want. The price will be forfeit.” She stopped, panting, and forced herself to hold still.

She could feel his eyes on her, every bit as compelling as his touch had been. At last his strong hands released her, and she was able to pull the gown the rest of the way off and look him in the eye. She almost challenged him; he had cheated! But she had won this one, and awaited her prize. His voice was soft as he spoke, “My name is Adrian … I was an Italian Duke before I was turned.” He paused, and it got the exact reaction he wanted, she knew it even as she said it…

“How long ago was that?”

His grin was hungry, now, and her bravado faded some in the face of it. “For that, my dear, I will require a taste…” At her horrified gasp he shook his head with a chuckle. “My darling!” he cried in mock-indignation, “You wound me! There is more to the taste of a woman than her blood, my dear! I am, after all, first and foremost, a man, with a man’s desires. I am not purely monster! Besides, I would think you had noticed…” He took her hand in his and pressed it to his bare chest beneath his shirt. “My skin is quite warm. This means I have fed recently. You are in no danger of dying at my hands, unless you ask it of me. My appetite tonight has little to do with hunger, and more to do with the pleasures of the flesh. You are in good hands tonight, if very capable ones. I can do things for you and to you that no mortal lover could dream. You just have to trust me.”

His offer sounded fascinating, but before she could condemn herself further with the burning question, she bit her lip. Just what was he capable of? Would he grow tentacles like some freakish Anime-style demon lover? Could he invade her senses, hypnotize her like some B-movie Dracula? Or was it something more? Just how much control did he have over those fangs? What would it cost her to find these things out? She had yet to pay the price for her last question! Quite the game, indeed! He was an alluring, sexy creature, no matter what he was, but could she really find pleasures with something that was not human? Less than human? Perhaps more than human? Was this bestiality at it’s worst? What, honestly, did she have to lose? Except maybe her own humanity…

“Like what?” she finally squeaked, feeling as though she were damning herself with her own curiosity. But was that not what made her essentially human, after all?

The expected, triumphant, I-told-you-so look never made it to his eyes. Instead, he kissed her cheek, tenderly. “One thing at a time, precious,” he whispered, and nuzzled gently into her neck, breathing in her scent. She tensed, waiting for the wickedly overlong fangs to sink into her throat, confirming her damnation, but was instead met with the soft, warm slickness of his unnaturally long tongue along her collarbone in a long, sensuous lick.

Her tension changed flavor, from fear to pleasure, and she relaxed a little. His arms were around her again, and he cradled her as she sank into his embrace, accepting his kisses and gentle licks trustingly. He drew a deep, shuddering breath and pulled away, closing his eyes in pleasure. Then, he grinned down at her, and whispered in her ear, “I am over 500 years old. As for your other question, the answer for it would be it’s own price. How curious are you, pet? How far are you willing to go for answers? For temptation?”

She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of his pale luminous skin in the firelight. The way his eyes caught the candlelight like soft, deep red jewels was hypnotic; she could gaze into his eyes for hours. How far was she willing to go? At that moment, she would have given her immortal soul for the feel of his lips against hers once more!

She dared not say as much, instead craning her neck to kiss him, aching for the touch, but he moved away slightly, his wicked grin widening. “Oh ho, little one! Are we so willing now? Be careful, now, my dear. Kisses in the dark are all very well and good if you are a blushing teenager who is not yet aware of their own desires. I, on the other hand, am a man. And you are most definitely a woman. I would not have brought a giggling child down here for silly games. You wanted answers, and pursued me to get them. I have my own reasons for wanting you. Is it a seduction you want? Or are the questions of immortality what drive you to me? You know I am real, but what of the legends, now? What do the stories have correct? The movies? Can you even begin to guess what I can do? What I can offer you? And what are you willing to give up for it? I gave you my name and your life for such a paltry price; the rest will not be so easy. What do you want?”

The concept of giving up her body to this beautiful being for the answers she sought had been a playful idea, she realized, the truth of the matter would be so much deeper. Would she be forever bound to him? She began to wonder how much she cared. She had little to lose in the human world anymore. Her pursuit of him had become little more than a suicide attempt gone awry, and those that wanted the answers from her about him might never get what they wanted. They had chosen her because she had nothing to lose, they never imagined that the cost might not just be in the messenger, but what she faced might be more than they could handle.

Her heart was pounding; with fear, with lust, with the thrill of the moment. What did he have to offer? Now that the price would be the answers, how far was she willing to go? She just wanted him to touch her again, to kiss her, caress her, and make her feel desired. As though hearing her desires, he leaned in to her neck, holding her body against him and planted hot kisses along the collarbone, up the side of her neck, across the sensitive hollow beneath her ear. She shivered with lust, clutching his hard muscled body even as his fangs grazed her throat. “Gods…” she whispered, swept by the emotion and sensations of his attentions.

“Dark gods, indeed,” he breathed into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her; his flesh was warm? He had already confessed to having fed that night… that meant that a human being had died for this exquisite pleasure! That meant that the blood that fed the growing erection she could feel through his leather pants was stolen from a once-breathing person! Possibly with a family that would be left behind to mourn…

She bucked in his embrace, but suddenly his warm arms were strong, stronger than any human’s grip, and she was reminded that this was not a human she was so entranced with. This was, despite his assurances otherwise, a monster!

He wrestled her down easily to the bed, holding her fast on her back and lying on top of her, his breath hot on her neck. Terrified, she writhed beneath his hold and sobbed; begging him to let her go, let her live. He did not relinquish his hold on her; instead, he trapped her wrists above her head with one large hand, stroking her hair with the other, and murmuring into her ear soft soothing words as though she were a skittish colt.

“Ahh, now, my sweet. You knew well when you came to me what I was. Don’t act so surprised, now. You entered into this willingly. All that is called for now is; just what would you have enter your body now? Will it be this?” and he ground his lean hips into hers, letting her feel his desire growing there. “Or these...?” and he grazed her skin with his fangs, sending delicious shivers skittering across her flesh. “What will it be? Immortality? Eternal desire?”

Her senses were filled with him. Her every nerve was acutely tuned to the feel of his warm flesh against her, the grip of his hands, the smooth fingertips devoid of calluses, his breath in her ear, the silken veil of his hair on her bare skin. His voice was soft, smoky and deep in her ears. He raised his head, and all she could see was his deep red eyes staring into her very soul, and she felt trapped in their fathomless depths, spiraling toward an abyss she could not begin to define. Even his scent was woodsmoke and leather, roses and old blood, coppery beneath his alluring musk as she breathed him in.

There was a long pause. He was her entire world in that moment, and she was utterly his, no matter how much she might wish it otherwise. All she had to do was give in, and he would give her pleasures beyond her wildest dreams, his eyes promised her. All she could think was ‘Gods, he is beautiful…’

“Love me…” she breathed. She could not remember speaking the words, though she heard them ringing in her ears. A pause, and he released her wrists, slowly caressing her arms as he brought his hand down to stroke her cheek, an odd expression on his face.

“Love you?” he whispered, musing. He began to kiss her face, almost reverently, tasting the salty tracks of her tears with delicate flicks of his tongue. “With no living heart to beat for you?” His words trailed off as he kissed her lips, as though seeking to avoid the subject. She closed her eyes, feeling him move over her, his hands competent and tender in drawing the pleasure from her like a musician with a harp.

She wondered what she had said that made him so oddly pensive. Gone were the persuasive words, replaced now by touch and taste and feel, a soft growl rising deep in his throat. She almost opened her eyes when the growl began to sound too real, but he covered her eyes almost the instant she thought of it. “Not yet,” he hissed, and it sounded as though he was forcing the words through more than the fangs.

She could feel him diffusing around her, the weight lessening on her chest, and his touch impossibly all over her body. At first, it was disconcerting, then she felt him like soft fingers everywhere, and she held still to feel it fully. It was almost as though she could breathe him in, like water vapor. His presence was all around her, and she reached out to return his caress, but her hand passed through his insubstantial body. Instead of horror, she laughed lightly, delighted. A tendril of mist found the opening between her legs, and teased its way inside of her, sliding over the sensitive flesh there and making her gasp. She moaned and a chuckle, quieter than the crackling of the fire, could be heard as he entered her, filling her, and stroking her swollen clit at the same time. Soft, misty fingers caressed her breasts, covered her eyes, teased every inch of her body to tingling rapture until she thought she would scream for the ecstasy of it. He felt like warm water surrounding her, and she could hear through her cries of agonized pleasure his own soft groan. Her orgasm rippled through his form as it tore through hers, she felt it as an answering wave over her flesh even as it was within her.