Vampire "Untitled" (Vampire "Untitled" Trilogy Book 1) (28 page)

Penetration was a slightly different affair as this
was when Ildico actively fought back. She was naked, was kissing him, was
laying on her back with Paul over her, but for some reason she was trying to
lock her legs together and lift her knees. For a minute or so it was
frustrating for Paul. He hadn’t intended to choke her, but with one hand
gripped around her throat he had used the other to try and separate her legs.
It turned out that subservience came easy to Ildico with a hand around her
windpipe and her protests became eager acceptance. She opened her legs and
moaned like a porn star as Paul entered her. He didn’t want to fuck her too
hard, didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted it to be special, romantic and that
meant there was something loving in the softness of their lovemaking. He held
her face in both hands and kissed away her tears. They tasted so fresh and
light. Her cries were soft whines in time with the motion.

Never before had sex been this way, this is what
love-making meant. It wasn’t sex, it was love and as Paul built to a climax, he
whispered it. He knew it was somehow corny, but he wanted to say it, he wanted
her to know how special she was.

“I love you, Ildico,” he said as he climaxed. He felt
every surge and spasm in his genitals as he pumped seed into her. She obviously
felt the same way and felt his climax as it made her squeeze her eyes together
tightly and grit her teeth. Tears rolled from her eyes and it made her look so
beautiful, so wonderful. Tears of joy.

----- X -----

Paul
kept Ildico in the bed beside him to make love twice more that afternoon. She
quickly learned to comply with the lovemaking but wasn’t very good at hugging.
She was distant and withdrawn. Paul lay beside her with his arms encircling
her, pulling her towards him and she either behaved like a statue or as though
she wanted to be left alone.

It was three in the afternoon when the bedtime play
seemed to have petered out. Paul stood naked in front of the wardrobe mirror
flexing his muscles that seemed to have swollen even more. He noticed it was
tight under his arms and his neck was looking fatter. Examining closer he could
see his pupils were widely dilated more than he had ever seen. The irises were
barely visible, his eyes had become wide dark pupils and little else.

Ildico mumbled something. It sounded like a question.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“I said, what if I’m pregnant?”

Paul went back to the mirror without answering.
Although he was done with Ildico for the time being, he could feel a build-up
of energy within his body, a sense that he needed to go for a run or perform some
other physical activity. It felt as though he’d overdosed on espresso.

“Do you not care?” Ildico asked. Then mumbling to
herself she said. “No, you don’t care,” followed by some soft but bitter lament
in Romanian.

Paul walked to her side of the little bed and squat
down to look at her.

“What if I’m pregnant?” she asked again.

Paul shrugged then smiled. “Then you have a baby.”

At this she clenched her eyes and her face pulled into
an ugly contortion again. “I don’t want... I don’t...”

“You told me you wanted children,” Paul said
quizzically but with a hint of contempt.

“Not now! I don’t want now. I want I am married first
and...” Her face transitioned from tearful to barely contained rage as the
words built up inside her. “I was waiting for my wedding. I want I am virgin
for my wedding.” With this bit of rage Ildico found strength to get out from
the covers. She tossed the sheet aside and stood naked as she looked about the
floor to find her clothes.

“You look very beautiful,” Paul said truthfully.
Ildico threw back a look of scorn that fixed for a few seconds then threw her
hands in the air and went back to looking for her clothes. It was true, she did
look beautiful. Everything about her, her tiny slender waist, her small
undernourished breasts. She pulled on her peach underwear and sat on the bed
struggling to put her socks on. She didn’t care about being naked now but when
she looked at him she shook her head and fought back tears.

“Are you not wearing clothes today?” she asked.

Paul couldn’t quite comprehend her mood or understand
why she had said that. Perhaps she wanted to go out or something. Paul wandered
to the kitchen and found his clothes to be dry but the kitchen felt insanely
hot. He took jeans and a thin cotton shirt off the hangers and slipped them on.
He turned off the oven and opened the kitchen window to try and let the heat
out before heading back to the bedroom.

Ildico pushed by him and grabbed her coat at the door.

“Are you going out?” he asked.

At first Ildico looked dumbfounded then answered,
“Yes, I’m going out.” She didn’t even have her coat on properly as she opened
the door. Paul snatched at her coat and caught her clothing in his fist. He
pulled her closer and pecked a kiss on her lips. She was lovely. It was going
to be so nice to have her as a girlfriend.

“You’re coming back soon though, right?”

Ildico stared at her shoes for a second then made a
big fake smile. “Goodbye, Paul,” she said as she slammed the door behind her.

For a moment her being hovered in the air like a
fragrance. Paul loved it, felt intoxicated by it. She was gorgeous, wonderful.
But as the seconds ticked by her existence seemed to fade. He walked to the
bedroom to try and recapture it. Her scent was all over the room. The bedcovers
were strewn over the floor, the bed looked like it had seen some harsh sex
action; creased sheets pulled loose, pubic hairs stuck to the linen with pussy
juice and cum stains. Nice. It was a shame she had cried so much though. It
sort of made sense now that she’d explained she was waiting for her wedding
night, but it wasn’t any real sort of sense, silly girl-logic.

Paul smelt his hand to try and recapture the moment
further. He could scent her pussy on his hands and had the stronger more musky
scent of her ass on his thumb. That had turned into a nice surprise; whilst
fucking her from behind he had pushed his thumb into her asshole at which she
shrieked at first then just collapsed into the pillow to take it. It was nice
that she enjoyed it; perhaps it was her secret fetish. Paul had felt what
turned her on the most was when he treated her like a whore; when he was gentle
she just lay there passively, but when he got dirty with her, those were the
times when she cried out the most and became truly animated. He would have to
think up some interesting things to do to her.

He left the bedroom feeling contented and walked to
the kitchen. Even with the window open the heat still lingered in the air. Even
the tiles of the floor felt warm to his bare feet and he sensed that as well as
feeling as though his muscles were pumped, he was also becoming very sensitive
to heat. Cool was better, the colder the more comfortable. With that in mind he
leaned far out the window to try and inhale some icy cold air. Even as he did
he felt the warmth on his back from the kitchen. Then he burned and boiled. It
wasn’t the heat, it was what he could see.

In the courtyard below, Nealla and Big Man were
confronting Ildico.

“Don’t you dare,” Paul said to himself. “Don’t you
fucking dare touch my girl.”

But six floors below him, Nealla dared. He had hold of
Ildico’s coat, she was trying to walk away, Nealla pulled and she slipped on
the snow and ice to land on her back.

Paul didn’t see anything else. He was pulling his
shoes onto his feet at top speed, struggling with the laces, too eager, trying
too hard to fasten them. He wore no socks, no underwear, there was no time or
need to grab his coat. All he needed was the big kitchen knife.

He grabbed it as he ran out the door and found himself
leaping down the stairs three at a time. Pre-programmed. Rehearsed and
prepared. A cruise missile targeted on Nealla, a smart bullet primed to explode
between his eyes. He was going to inflict the most gruesome education on Nealla
for what he had done to Ildico and he had a big fucking knife in his fist to
teach him with.

----- X -----

Paul
spun out of the big metal front doors and for a second couldn’t decide which
way around the building got to the courtyard fastest. The decision seemed to be
made without thinking, the momentum alone was carrying him. It was a mistake,
he had gone the slightly longer way around. The longer way was probably no
further than ten yards extra but that ten yards served only to make him burn
with more anger.

When he made it to the courtyard he saw Ildico walking
away. She was twenty or thirty yards further; if he called out her name she
would hear. Heading away at ninety degrees was Nealla and Big Man.

There was an instant where Paul couldn’t decide what
he wanted more. Ildico’s intoxication was still in his bloodstream and he
craved her time and affection, but Nealla was leaving. Nealla first, or Ildico?

He felt her name rise in his mouth as he prepared to
shout, but the call never came. He remained mute and watched her heading away
for a few seconds, then turned his head to watch the bad men instead.

Nealla.

Follow him. Ildico later. Nealla first.

As he followed he made sure to keep the knife
concealed. His hand was by his side, but the long nine inch blade was tucked
behind his leg, hidden from view.

Nealla and Big Man looked as though they were heading
towards the bus stand.

From above, the sky seemed to darken as though on a
dimmer, in the space of two or three seconds it went from azure blue to misty
grey and with it came cotton balls of snow. Ahead of him Big Man pulled up his
jacket lapels, looked up to the sky and casually glanced over his shoulder. He
clocked Paul immediately and visibly jolted; he’d been seen. Big Man tapped
Nealla’s arm and spoke. They were perhaps sixty or seventy yards ahead and for
a moment they both looked back across their shoulders to watch him, then both
looked ahead and changed direction slightly. They walked with a little more
purpose now, it wasn’t as casual; they looked as though they were pretending to
walk casual and doing a lousy job of the pretending.

“What are you doing?” Paul whispered. They’d seen him,
they must have recognised that he was coming for them. They probably recognised
that he was walking with some determination. Where were they going?

The forest.

That was it, they’d changed from heading to the bus
stand and were now aimed towards the picnic area where Paul had followed Big
Man and Boy. They were luring him. They knew he was following, could see he
meant business, albeit from sixty yards out; and they wanted it. They wanted
him to follow, to go to the forest.

Paul grinned with clenched teeth. The kitchen knife in
his fist felt good. It felt amazingly good. Nealla had a razor, Big Man Raul
carried a balisong knife. So long as they didn’t attack with blades at the same
time, there would be nothing to worry about.

The heat started to get to him. He was walking faster
and faster, picking up the pace and beginning to burn on the inside. He used
his free hand to loosen a few buttons from his shirt to let the cool air and
snow touch his breastbone. He was glad he wasn’t wearing socks. The comfort of
socks didn’t matter, but feeling the cold air blow around his ankles and the
cool of the snow through the soles of his shoes seemed to give him energy. His
muscles were flexing, enlarging and his desire to confront Nealla was turning
into rage. He was on autopilot, he didn’t even have to think anymore,
everything would take care of itself. These two idiots were no match for him.
They were men, not even that, they were just stupid boys, ants under the boot
of what he had become.

True to his analysis, Nealla and Raul headed into the
tight corridor between the smallholdings. It was narrow and he could see that
in some places they almost walked shoulder-first to navigate the haphazard
waist-high fences. As they got to the far end by the road the two men suddenly
vanished from view, obscured by the fences and bushes. It would be dangerous to
allow them to hide and attack by surprise. Then he saw Raul through the gap,
crossing the road, looking both ways. Nealla looked back into the corridor and
grinned at Paul, then crossed the road too. Why did he grin? Was he stupid, did
he really think he could fight and win? This wasn’t going to be like it was in
the lobby. Ha. Nealla didn’t know this yet. Perhaps Big Man Raul knew and
understood. He suspected Raul would be reticent to take him on alone since he
had seen him this morning, but even Raul didn’t know how much stronger Paul had
become in just the last few hours since their encounter.

Paul emerged at the road. He couldn’t see them, but he
could see the gap in the bushes that led to the picnic area. They were so
fucking stupid. Did they actually believe that he would be crazy enough to go
and confront them in a secluded space like this? Obviously they did, but they
had no comprehension of what he had become.

On crossing the road he looked through the gap in the
bushes and saw both men standing in wait. They were in the midst of the picnic
tables. Nealla had his hands in his pockets and was further back. Big Man Raul
stood ahead with his hands in fists. The snow was falling around them, the
children’s swings were covered in snow and swayed ever so gently. It was
peaceful here. Quiet.