25. Amber Hart
Apartments in New York are small as a rule, and this one is no exception. Living room, bedroom, bathroom, small kitchen, all present and accounted for. But, Amber notices, unlike many New York apartments, Marcus's place is not only spotlessly clean, but ordered. It reminds her of the sensation of touching his mind - everything in its proper place, neatly arranged and purposeful. The kitchen smells of... something... Italian, perhaps? Garlic, tomatoes, none of them reaching the same places in Amber's brain that she remembers them once teasing.
A few pictures decorate the walls, one of a slightly younger Marcus with two older people Amber presumes must be his parents and a girl with a waterfall of black curls and the same sharp features likely at the tail end of high school. A graduation photo it seems, he's holding a degree. There's a bookshelf packed with titles in Italian, Latin, and English, though the Latin seems to mostly be medical and anatomy books. For a brief and strangely perverse moment, Amber considers cracking open a copy of De Fabrica she spots on the shelf and tracing those medieval renderings of the body, seeing the mechanism laid bare, even in its misconceptions...
Marcus interrupts her thoughts. "Would you like something to drink?" He's very gentlemanly about the whole thing, but Amber can hear the beating of his heart, can smell the heat of anticipation in his blood. It's so hard for someone to hide from her, these days. Living people, anyway. It's difficult to read the dead.
"No thanks, but I will use your restroom," she excuses herself from one bodily need by feigning another. She brushes past him, hip against thigh once he gives her leave, closing the door behind her and running the water a touch to cover the sounds of her doing nothing at all. She can still hear him moving around out there, still smell him. He smells wonderful. She's well satiated, but as she told Siveri - blood is for feeling alive, and she wants to feel alive. The garlic and tomatoes will never smell quite right again, but they begin to smell better, tickle memories more closely as she washes her hands in warm water and pushes blood through her veins. He'll enjoy her more this way too. She opens the door after flushing the toilet and rinsing her hands again, leaving her shirt untucked on one side, pulled up to artfully reveal a bit of bare waist.
A surprisingly rough and deliciously warm - living and vital in ways that appeal so much more than the sensuality of the touch alone - hand finds that bit of skin idly as Amber walks back into the main living room. "You're still a little cold." He comments idly, close and speaking in a low murmur. That warm hand slides under the hem of Amber's shirt and explores her side gently. "I consider myself smart enough to pick up hints, but just so we're clear - may I kiss you, Amber?" Marcus asks with a little hint of humor. Of course he knows why they're both here, but perhaps that's just part of the order of his mind. Things done in a Proper Way.
"Mmm, please. And other things," she leans into his touch. "I'm always cold," she comments, crossing her arms across her chest, moving in closer to soak up his heat, inviting a hug. The motion pushes her breasts together and up a touch, making it difficult not to also stare down her cleavage if he wants to meet her eyes, given how he towers over her.
Marcus meets Amber's eyes and doesn't bother to hide his attention sliding to her chest as well. Why would he? He wraps his arms around Amber and leans down to kiss her. It's almost a rush of pleasure on its own that Amber can immediately tell he knows what he's doing. No nervousness or clumsy inexperience here, but a surprisingly passionate embrace that would have stolen her breath, in the days when she had breath to steal. Both of Marcus's warm hands slide under Amber's shirt, taking a moment to simply feel her before shifting down to her ass, lifting her off her feet seemingly without effort so Marcus no longer has to crane down to kiss her.
He's so warm, so full of life. She can feel that pulse of delicious heat flowing into her body, augmenting the work of her temporarily-revived heart. Amber wraps her legs around his waist, resting some of her weight against him as she opens her mouth. Not passive at all, no, she's active and lusty with her kiss, meeting him halfway and returning his passion. She loves the easy strength with which he lifts her, shifting her hands to rest on his shoulders, then cup the sides of his neck as they kiss.
There's a slightly dizzying sense of movement, then Amber feels the wall at her back as she's pressed against it roughly, held there by the pressure of his body against hers. Marcus is still kissing her, pulling up her shirt with enough sudden force Amber briefly worries it might rip, despite it being trapped between their bodies.
She pushes out with her hips, leaning back to free enough space for her shirt to lift up around her shoulders. The bra underneath is smooth black, a utilitarian construction with comfort in mind more than appearance, demicups leaving the top of her breasts visible. She raises her hands up over her head, supporting herself against the wall with her legs still wrapped around his hips, leaving him free to complete the motion of removing her shirt - or pull it up over her face and arms, leaving her trapped in the black fabric.
Ravnius 27-Jan-21 09:44 PM Marcus does just that, almost like he read Amber's mind, breaking the kiss and looking at her hungrily with her arms pinned together by her shirt, pulled up over her head just high enough for her to be able to see. For the first time since they met, he's lost his calm poise, the current moment only a brief, false interlude between throes of passion. "Do we need to stop so I can get a condom?" He asks, something in his voice almost precise, like he's being very careful to say this before he forgets.
"I don't have my test results handy at the moment," she says with an amused snort, not having anything on her other than a phone and a credit card, "but I'm clean if you are."
He grins back. "Just due diligence."
He carries her into the bedroom - as orderly and neat as the rest of the house, but for a few books on the nightstand next to a surprisingly large bed. It must have been hell to get it in here. Amber finally feels properly warm from so much intimate contact. The facsimile of life coursing through her veins has hormones flooding her brain, soaking her in excitement, and coupled with Marcus's heat she's so greedily absorbed, she might actually sweat. She banishes thoughts on the novelty of it all when Marcus removes her bra and pins her to the bed, holding down Amber's wrists with casually overbearing strength. It sends a thrill of perverse pleasure through her - while she's never helpless... there's a visceral edge to being held down.
She is a vampire, and vampires get what they want. Right now she wants to be exactly where she is. It's fun. It's fun laying there, out of control and waiting to see what happens to her, egging him on by both pressing against his strength and wiggling her hips to make her breasts jiggle in his direction. Hormones flood her with emotions, doing exactly what they're supposed to, telling her that Marcus smells good, and that she wants him holding her down, that this is exactly what should be happening right now. She pushes up enough to kiss him again for a moment, before the lack of leverage against gravity drops her back down into the blanket.
"Hmm... you know, I think you said something before we came here." Marcus says with a rough chuckle. He yanks Amber up onto her feet and off the bed, forcing her down to her knees. "Do you remember?" One hand tangles in her hair, fingers running through it and applying just enough pressure for Amber to feel it, but not enough to hurt, making her look up and meet his eyes.
"No?" Something about a blowjob, she doesn't remember the exact words. She parts her lips a little, looking up at him expectantly. It's a surprisingly innocent look, coming as it does from someone who clearly has some idea what's coming next and has been egging him on all evening. Her hair is in disarray from his grip, one strand falling across her lips, and she puffs air to blow it out of the way.
Marcus pulls Amber's hair a little. "That's alright, I do. Open your mouth." He orders, his voice low and rough, pulling her hair back to force her to look up at him.
She does so obediently, opening wider and tilting her head back, looking up at him and watching the bulge close in front of her. Even now Amber can feel the restraint in his grip. Marcus is being very careful to avoid hurting her. Her arms snake up around his thighs, rubbing the back of them through his pants. The expression is a bit less innocent now than it was a moment ago, as she waits for him to unbutton and give her access.
Marcus quickly obliges her, taking a moment or two to undo his slacks with one hand, and her mouth starts to water a little at the sound of his heart pounding just under his skin, the warmth of a living body so close to her lips. "Good girl." Marcus murmurs, shifting a bit closer so her tongue presses, just a little, against his cock.
She gives the underside of the glans a kiss, almost as if it were a cheek rather than a cock, before opening her mouth again to let it rest against her tongue, flat against the floor of her mouth. She keeps looking up at him, making eye contact with her big, brown eyes as she opens wide and prepares to accept him.
Marcus gives her a brief look, almost as if gauging the look in her eyes, before thrusting forward into her mouth hard. He's so controlled, so carefully wound up and watching the world from behind a constructed veil, that Amber just wants to get inside him, see him let loose and give himself completely over to her and to the moment. The thought lasts just a moment, before she loses herself a little, doing her best not to gag. She doesn't need to breath, but she cultivates her human instincts, and strengthens them further with human blood, and so she has to fight her gag reflex nearly as much as any other woman getting roughly face-fucked. There's nothing innocent left in the slobbering, lusty mess that is her mouth as she tries to open her throat and take him as deep inside as he can fit, catching a bit of gurgling breath between each thrust. She takes it like a champ - or perhaps like a slut who loves this sort of thing, and has a fair bit of practice. Both.
She's still composed, though. A mess, but she still has her wits about her. And there's something about it that just makes him want to break that composure - she can see it in his eyes, and fans that flame. He wants to fuck her brains out, turn her into an animal lusting after his cock. He can't see her like this - can't see her not quite gagging without wanting to push it further. Abandon his control, see her choking on him, grip her hair tighter and let her know exactly who's in charge.
Amber can feel Marcus's pulse under his skin, can smell the delicious life burning through him, can taste it - and her desire mixes with his in a moment of communion that feels oddly as though she had slid her fangs into him and started to feed. Both of his hands grab Amber's hair roughly and he starts fucking her throat more vigorously, not pausing to give her a moment to breathe. For the first time all evening, Amber feels that iron restraint slip, slip, slip - and fall away.
If she was a mortal, perhaps she would panic at the sudden difficulty in grabbing more than the slightest little gasps of air. She might even want to stop. But as much as her temporarily revivified body might think it's alive, Amber's excitement overrides petty mortal fears. Finally, finally, she's getting what she's been missing. There are some times when she wishes she were still alive, could still do things like taste bread properly and feel the cold. But then there are times like now, where she can see the wild look slip into his eyes, indulge his instincts and choke on his cock deep in her throat without an edge of panic, where she loves what she is. She's driving this controlled, strong, wonderful man mad with lust, and going to satisfy him so completely he won't even notice when she takes her payment. Amber wraps her arms tighter around his thighs, sneaking one hand up to grope his ass as he pounds her, each thrust making her breasts bounce against and between his legs.
Soon enough Marcus stops, his cock filling Amber's throat as deeply as he can, holding her there with inexorable strength, choking on him and unable to breathe. After long enough that it would be a little concerning for a mortal woman, Marcus groans in pleasure and forces Amber's head back, pulling out of her mouth. He surveys the glorious mess they've made of Amber's mouth, neck, and even some of her chest with obvious enjoyment, still throbbing in front of her. "Good girl." He almost growls at her.
She coughs, pushing spittle out of her throat and drooling it down her face to join the trails making their way down her breasts. She coughs again and manages a grin, leaning forward to kiss the throbbing tip just in front of her, a response more lewd than any mere words could be.
Marcus hauls Amber up to her feet and yanks down her jeans roughly, taking her underwear them with them. He continues to manhandle Amber, forcing her against the wall and pinning her there by her hips. "Beg me to give you what you want." He orders her, voice still rough and almost animalistic. She can recognize that lust, that hungry desire that she's helped create. It's kin to her own, wild and uncontrolled and demanding. And knowing that she created it makes a little shiver of prideful pleasure dart down Amber's spine.
"I want you to fuck me, Marcus. Fuck me and fill me up here against the wall," she grabs his throat with one hand, a gesture he can easily brush away with his own arm when he has one free, but she takes the moment she has before he does so to kiss him aggressively, smearing his face with her mess, her hair sticking to his stubble as she pulls away to lean back against the wall.
Marcus shoves Amber up into the air again, pressing her hard against the wall as he takes a moment to position himself - and then he moves slowly into her, cock filling her like the first pull of blood from an artery. His body feels almost ablaze against her as he takes a long moment to savor the sensation. She makes a happy moan as he fills her, meeting his first thrust with her hips. His fingers dig into her thigh, while the other hand goes to her neck in a mirror of her earlier gesture, forcing her head up a little and baring her throat.
But then he starts moving, and all Amber can do is be pressed against the wall and try not to get too many bruises while she revels in the violence of the situation. This is what she wanted from him, what she sensed lurking behind the strict control and careful limitations on his strength. She has a momentary thought that she'd better make sure he knows not to feel bad about this in the morning, before its driven from her mind by the savage pounding.
Whether or not he means to choke her, Amber feels the grip on her throat press harder down, pushing into the wall, cutting off her air. He kisses her roughly, messily, struggling to keep their lips pressed together with the brutal force of his thrusts. Amber can feel the urge to feed - not for hunger but just to feel that communion again, for longer- wash through her like liquid fire.
This time her hands rise to her throat, wrapping around his fingers and trying to get a little room for air. She's going to have enough bruises already until she has a chance to cleanse them, and ones around her throat aren't her favorite to explain away if someone notices. She can see a brief moment of lucidity overtake him, a little light through the clouds she's draped over that iron control, and he switches to grabbing her shoulder to pull their bodies together faster.
She'll get her communion soon enough, as soon as he comes in close and gives her a chance - maybe on the floor after he's emptied himself into her, that would be perfect. She moans at the thought, wrapping one leg and one arm around him, while the others support her and hold his wrist.
He tenses, throbbing inside her and at last Amber feels Marcus start to come, filling her as he gasps in pleasure against her. She wraps her other arm around him, pressing herself against his chest as he fills her up. It's a marvelous intimacy, closeness, sharing deeply in such a human, animal, moment as she clings to him.
As the moment fades, she presses him gently toward the bed, pushing him down and draping herself over him and remaining wrapped around him as he rests from his exertion. She nuzzles up to his neck with a kiss, other hand resting on his cheek. Marcus doesn't resist Amber's soft ministrations, stroking her hair idly with one hand.
"Nnh... sorry if I was... too rough with you. I don't know what came over me." He murmurs, obviously basking in the afterglow as much as she is.
"It was wonderful," she murmurs in his ear, giving it a little nibble and another kiss. He smells so good, covered in the mix of their exertion. She moves her kiss down to his neck, and gently, lovingly, bites down. Just a little bit, some blood to know what he tastes like and to complete the perfect moment. Her fangs slide into Marcus's throat gently, softly, and Amber can't resist the shuddering moan it pulls from her as the Kiss overtakes them both. Marcus holds her closer, one hand in her hair and the other on her ass, fingers tensing as she embraces him.
He tastes... healthy. Clean. Like a home-cooked meal compared to quick and greasy fast food. Despite the sparking electricity of lust and the pounding adrenaline of their frenzied union that rushes through his veins, there's an underlying purity to Marcus's blood that sets Amber's whole body tingling. It reminds her of Velo a little, but... no, not quite; the flavor of Velo's vices lingered in her blood, as well as her wild energy. This taste is slow, warm, dependable, without the manic edge, the nervous and inconstant delights of Carissa, or the unsure bursts of inspired flavor of Kev. As absurd as it sounds, the best word that comes to Amber's mind is comfortable. His blood tastes comfortable, like coming home after a long, hard day and locking the door behind you.
The kiss lasts a long, delicious moment before she withdraws her fangs. He'll need all his strength for the challenges he's set himself, and so she'll take no more than her due. She licks his neck gently and snuggles in closer, content to let the evening pass as they both rest from their exertions.