Somewhere between dreams and reality
Kavielle POV
The room was dark around me, the curtains pulled. The room was unfamiliar, way too nice for the junk hotel room I was in… Grabbing my neck, I flashed back to the blood ferociously gushing from my wounds. There was nothing there.
I attempted to sit up to look around when a gentle voice called out, "Please don't move, you need to recover still." The voice was comforting; I complied without thinking. My inner voice was always right. Closing my eyes tight, I tried to remember what had happened to me. The flash of a face brought me back to reality. Bolting straight up, I look around.
There was a shadowy figure by the door; it seemed to be staring at me. My heart galloped in my chest, my breaths quickening. "Who are you?" I blurted, terrified.
The man took a step forward, but not enough to be seen. "Concerned citizen. I stepped in to help you when I heard you scream."
Oh god, it was real… Brick… Madison… "Madison, where is she? Is she okay?!"
There was a small chuckle, barely audible. "I knocked her out, but safe. It's funny how you ask about her before you concern yourself with your own safety." He moved a bit more, his figure growing with each step.
"She's my only friend." I said, stuttering.
"I…," the voice started, then he coughed a little. "Are you okay?"
"I got hurt, didn't I?" I asked, grabbing at my neck again. This time he moved even closer, the outline of his face appearing—his powerful jaw and piercing eyes. He took another few steps, his face clearer, causing a memory to run through my brain. "You did this?" I murmured, the reality of my situation setting in.
"No," he said, panicked. "I was there to help you."
"You pulled out the glass… and" He rushed at me, trying to grab my arms. "You attacked me!" I yelled, trying to pull away. My whole body felt weak; it was overly easy to hold me still. His face, twisted in regret, looked so familiar.
"I… I drank from you. I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I don't do that anymore, I just lost control." he confessed with a sob.
Taken aback by the genuine tone, I was still confused and try to keep my distance. "But why?"
"I have to… to live. I hadn't had issues in such a long time, just something about you…," he pleaded again, more to himself than me.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked, more confused than afraid. Why did he sound just like…
"I" He stopped, his face in full view, his eyes glistening. "I don't want to hurt you."
I was instantly relieved for some reason; seeing this emotional response calmed me. I looked at him as he examined my face, too. It felt so comfortable… His eyes spoke to me, telling me it was okay. "Who are you?" My body responding to this electricity between us, deep memories called to me.
He seemed to be embarrassed suddenly, diverting his gaze from mine. "My name isn't important; I'll take you home as soon as the sun sets." He stood, walking toward the door. "Wait!" I called out. He stopped but didn't turn to look. "Vincent," I said, holding my breath. These flashes of him—his touch—lit me on fire.
He seemed exasperated. "How do you know that name?" He turned back. "Why are you tormenting me?"
"Tormenting you!" I rasped, "You're the one holding me hostage."
He walked over to me, grabbing my face. "Why do you love me?"
My heart fluttered, trying to wrench away; I realized he was too strong to even budge. "I…," I started before his lips pushed hard into mine. His kiss was gentle but demanding as he pushed into me, his body almost on top of mine. How could he know what I was feeling, this stir inside me, driving me to him?
I couldn't resist this… He wanted me and me him, even if it made no sense. Was this what he called his 'bloodlust' taking over? Or was this his love for me?
None of the normal responses I could have had were even possible. I wanted to consider what I was doing—but at that moment, I didn't care. The love and desire I felt right then. Nothing could compare to it. So new, fresh… This was everything I wanted from him. From anyone.
I dreamt of him so many times; it felt natural. Some part of me thought maybe this was another dream… Did I die in that dirty motel room, and this was my brain dying? How was any of this possible? I've had delusions before, but this was something different; if it was a dream, I didn't want to wake.
He made scraps of the clothes I was wearing, running his hands all over me. His lips devouring mine, his hand made its way down to my exposed lips, plunging his fingers into my waiting wetness. I moaned against him, enjoying the feeling he gave me.
He pressed hard against me as he slowly thrusted his fingers into me, the arch of his tips rubbing gently against my walls. The sensation was so new, I felt a wave crashing through me. His tongue danced with mine as he pressed even harder, now moving quickly. This was better than I could have dreamed, but I was too shy to react. Was I doing it right?
The limited experience I did have, told me I needed to look and sound perfect. Porn and 'finding myself' with the help of Madison wasn't exactly the best example. I had to talk myself from a ledge, burying my doubts, trying to focus on him.
He was so in tune with my every reaction, each moan changed his reaction, pressing every little sensation further and further, until I couldn't hold back anymore… I climaxed hard; moans trapped behind his relentless kiss. He pulled back, groaning, pushing into me harder, dragging the orgasm out of me.
His eyes locked with mine. His face twisted in form; long teeth just peering out in his smile, sending shivers down me. Before I could blink, his mouth was over mine again. This time his kiss was demanding, pressing me hard back onto the bed. He moved quicker than I could comprehend, his pants gone in an instant.
He stopped himself, forcing a few shallow breaths. "I need you."