Pn1 Read online

  over the body between them to close in on her.

  Helena tore her eyes away from the blood to look at him, but her

  eyes flicked downward, mesmerized by the blood.

  He pinched her chin sharply. "Look at me."

  Helena dragged her eyes back to his face but her vision seemed to

  be sucked into his dilating eyes, making her swim in and out of

  conscious focus.

  "You smell it deep within her thighs don't you? It makes you hot,

  ready to pounce and take it in you, deep in you, so you can ride its

  power for all its worth." Constantine's words turned to steam in the

  heat of her strained breath.

  Helena's neck stretched to free her chin.

  Constantine shook his head. "Not very likely, is it, you getting

  away from me? And why would you want to? I have what you want

  even if you keep saying no. I'll give you a release you never imagined

  existed."

  Helena's jaw creaked open under his clutch. "Stop touching me."

  Her thighs clenched so she could stand firm.

  "Oh, I'm going to do even better than touching you. I'm going to

  take you to a place you'll never want to leave and beg me for more."

  He ran a nail behind her ear, trailing down to her collar bone.

  Helena's throat stuttered trying to figure out what was up and down.

  "No I won't. I don't want anything from you." Her toes clenched,

  keeping herself firmly in her shoes.

  "Don't be so sure of that. A girl like you is going to come back for

  more and beg for seconds." Constantine rammed his palm into her

  throat, sending her teetering backwards, only her hair prevented her

  from falling on her ass.

  29

  Helena screamed out in pain as she swung from the ceiling. Her

  shoes fell off, and her toes clamored to gain contact with the floor

  again, tripping over the shoes as she got onto tiptoes.

  "Now that I have your attention again," Constantine reached out to

  grab her hair and still the rope, "I don't want you to miss a second of

  what is about to happen to you. You'll regret it later if you do."

  "Oh God, please no." Helena lost any reserves of composure she

  had in her vocal chords and bleated like a lost lamb.

  Constantine pushed his hand between them, pressing into her

  breasts and stomach before slipping down between her thighs to the

  man beneath them.

  Helena's head bent, needing to know what he was going to do.

  There was only so much she could clench her thighs and stand on her

  toes at the same time.

  His hand bathed in the man's open throat, coating his skin with red

  syrup. He stepped back so she could see the full ascent of his hand as

  it crept slowly up between them and then stilled in front of her face.

  "What are you going to do to me?" Helena forgot to stand on her

  tiptoes, and her arches collapsed.

  Constantine stuffed his clean hand under her armpit and raised her

  to her toes. "You know what's about to happen to you."

  Helena's face jittered no, her eyes tracking his hand as her head

  flipped side to side.

  "Yes you do, and you want it, you know you do. You're mouth

  says no but your tongue says yes. Bet you don't know it's snaking out

  of your mouth and your teeth are primed ready to take my hand off at

  the wrist." Constantine moved his hand closer to her face.

  Helena started to go cross-eyed. "I ... I..."

  "Shhh, let your mind go. I only want your body right now. I'll

  tackle your mind another time." He grazed the tip of her tongue with

  his bloodied knuckles.

  Helena's tongue snapped back into her mouth and recoiled against

  the roof of her palate. Cheeks puffed out, breathing in the perfume of

  blood from pulsating mucous linings. Her tongue came back out,

  30

  cleansed off the blood now surging down her throat, and lapped at the

  air like a puppy gone wild.

  Constantine wagged his hand in front of her crazed eyes. "And

  here I thought you wanted me to leave you alone to your sanctity of

  lies."

  Helena heaved in throaty breaths on the verge of hyperventilating.

  "I can't breathe."

  "Sure you can, more of the fibs you tell yourself, pretty little lies

  that make you feel better." He jabbed his knuckles under her nose,

  leaving blood behind below her nostrils.

  Helena sucked air in through her nose as her tongue tried to reach

  the blood and lick it off. "What are you doing to me?"

  "I'm not the one doing anything. It is all you, Helena, all you. You

  wanted power, well I'm giving you more than you let yourself

  imagine, and your body wants it even if your mouth is spewing out

  lies, telling me no. I know you want me to. You want me to go all

  the way." Constantine licked a drying knuckle and transferred the

  blood from his lathered tongue onto hers, biting hers until her eyes

  watered.

  "No." Helena reared her head back, fighting her tongue to stay in

  her mouth.

  "Why do you keep fighting me? You know you want this. You

  want to eat the man out, suck him clean, feel how hot and wet you can

  get taking all you need from him, licking him." Constantine pulled her

  towards him, making her stub her toes on the cooling body.

  Helena tried to get her tongue and head to work together, but as she

  shook her head no, her tongue throbbed and acid filled her mouth

  ready to digest liquid protein.

  "See, why make this harder for yourself than it has to be? Give in to

  it. Live the life lurking under your skin, and let the animal come out

  and play. It's time for a nighttime party." Constantine squeezed her

  underarm until his fingers nearly touched.

  Helena screamed then spewed acid onto his face.

  "Tsk, tsk. Such a nasty girl. The pain will go away if you let me

  do what needs to be done, what you want to have anyway."

  31

  Constantine jabbed his knuckles into her parted teeth, but his hand

  under her arm didn't leave her anywhere to go.

  Pain shot through the roots of her teeth up into her jaws and cheek

  bones, but on the heels of pain came the taste, the blood. Before she

  could institute control her teeth opened and clamped down on his

  hand, gnashing into the webbing between his knuckles and burrowing

  into cartilage. Just before she hit the pockets of his own blood, he

  kneed her in the crotch, and her growling yelp freed his hand from her

  bite.

  "You are getting ahead of yourself. I didn't give you permission to

  take from me, my feral vampire in the making. See what happens

  when you hold your lust at bay too long? You become a deranged

  monster. Now I'll have to take you down a few pegs. More antics

  like that and I will be brutal when kicking you in the pussy."

  Constantine extracted his hand and made her trot and curse and she

  struggled to alleviate all her pain at once.

  "What did you just call me?" Her tongue swam in her mouth and

  she choked on her own saliva.

  "My feral vampire, surely you aren't deaf on top of blind?"

  Constantine bared his canines, letting them hang over the rim of his

  lip.

  "You're
deranged." Helena willed her breath to slow down, but her

  words came out in spurts studded with huffs of air.

  "You are tiring me with these girlish games, and coming from a

  woman like you it disgusts me. Time to start owning up to the

  fantasies you don't let anyone know about, the ones where you get off

  on the dirtiest, darkest thoughts, bathing yourself in another."

  Constantine bent down and dragged the body up by the hair.

  Helena winced, her own scalp had gone from past tingling into

  thought numbing pain.

  Constantine lodged the body between them; the neck's rent in line

  with Helena's mouth. He pushed the body so her chin was washed in

  blood, liquid heat making her pussy clench, causing her panties to

  bunch up and pinch her.

  32

  Helena grabbed the collar of the man's shirt and staunched the flow

  of blood with her lip suction.

  Constantine tore them apart, backing up so the oozing neck was out

  of lunging range. "Now, now, I thought you wanted nothing to do

  with him or me. Didn't you want to be the good little girl who

  watches but never does, a voyeur with clean lips?"

  Helena suckled her lips. "You made me. You forced him on me."

  Her eyes were glued to the neck, so wet and salty good.

  "Then you might as well finish him off, no, and take yourself for

  the rushing ride? You're so pent up I think you're ready to burst if you

  don't finish him soon. Or do you need me to lead you step by step by

  step." He inched the body closer to her until all she had to do was let

  him enter her all at once before he dripped dry with nothing left to

  give.

  Helena couldn't see anything but blood, the forbidden fruit. She'd

  always ordered her meat as raw as cooks allowed, but this was still

  dripping the juices that heat tainted. Her hold on her neck faltered and

  her tongue lowered into the neck, eyes flicking up every few laps to

  see what Constantine was doing.

  "There, there." He patted her head, holding her up by the back of

  the jacket so her head stayed planted on top of the blood.

  It was so easy; her head stayed in place with no effort of her own

  and the hunger of missed lunch and dinner made her devour him. It

  wasn't her, but the need to survive. That's what she told herself

  between drinks, and after when Constantine let the body drop.

  She was simply being sanitary by licking her lips clean instead of

  wiping them on her sleeves.

  Constantine tossed the spent corpse through the air towards the

  pillows. With the tip of his steel-toed, black leather boots, he shifted

  the pillows into a dais a few feet off the ground.

  At the base lay the cooling body turning an un-lively shade of grey.

  Approaching her from the side, he pushed her backwards along the

  track until she fell, hair jutting up and angled towards the ceiling.

  Helena was forming a complaint, working up a seething froth of

  spit to aim at his eyes over the treatment and wanting to kick out and

  33

  jam toes into his balls until she bathed in the seminal fluid he leaked

  from puncture holes.

  "Let the anger go." He watched her jerk on the cushion pyre.

  "Anger is but the last residual of the life dying in you. Come to me

  willingly and this is only the start."

  Feverish heat melted the icy hiss of words bombarding her ears.

  Each harsh utterance beat against her eardrums sending discordant

  pulses down her ear canals. Veins feeding blood into her ears and

  brain caught up the explosive sound waves and pulsed. Ripples

  formed in her blood, sinuous waves of heated blood bursting

  capillaries in their rush to her lungs to cool off.

  She sweated from the inside out, her pores stretching open to vent

  steam that poured off her body and clouded the room with a smell

  undeniably female and ripe.

  "That right, let it go, ride it, drown in your own passed glory."

  The words came again but she didn't have the strength to decipher

  them, all her attention burned up with the white heat of incendiary

  force stripping her hold on consciousness. Her pussy leaked sizzling

  liquid that burned her inner thighs, forcing her legs wide open. She

  grappled with her panties to get them out of the way; they were

  holding in too much heat and she needed air.

  Her fingers fumbled and got the panties down to her knees before

  arms went rigid limp then thrashed, ripping the shoulders from her

  jacket. Muscles followed suit and strained under her flailing limbs,

  her legs stretching her panties until the elastic snapped and the seams

  gave up holding the lace together. Pieces of jacket hung shredded

  from her arms and her panties draped over her knees before slithering

  to the floor, her pussy throbbing to alleviate the heat.

  Fingers stroked her legs, going dangerously near the intensity of the

  heat erupting between her thighs. Dew formed where the touch came

  down, sending ice cold tendrils into her flesh to stab at the heat and

  take it down a notch.

  Her torso shifted, moving the center of the heat closer to the cool

  stroke. She wanted it buried deep in her, needed it in her to crush the

  34

  heat and tame the flames turning her into cinders, washing away

  memories of how the fire started.

  "Not yet. The fun is about to begin."

  The coolness split, moving up each side of her chest, scratching

  past her breasts and stopping on her neck. Chipped ice flaked around

  her neck re-freezing into a chokehold.

  Her throat clenched trying to break free of the compacting force,

  but all she got for a reaction was a dry laugh drifting about the

  contours of her flopping body. Pain pinched back the heat, ligaments

  snapping as her throat collapsed inwards. Now she really couldn't

  breathe.

  Legs tried to kick, but something weighted her down, something

  cool and hard pressed back the heat, but left her no outlet for her legs

  to move. Nails grew on her fingertips, scratching back at the darkness

  that overtook her. She had to fight, didn't she? Wasn't this what her

  body did?

  Asphyxiation came at the moment of brightest pain, white dots

  speckling her blacked out vision then fading into the fullest black,

  darker than any moonless night. Helena became untethered from her

  body, floating in a miasma of red that washed over her, drowning her

  in a substance she knew had to be of the heavens or demons it smelled

  so good. Nothing earthly ever soothed and awakened every sense.

  Blood coagulated, flowed, eddied. Cells formed, invading the

  marrow of her bones, forcing new structures to take on dimensions the

  body crazily tried to produce in numbers that boggled the limited

  mind into insanity.

  Her mind shifted and morphed, brain stem finding a new

  attachment point that made her body erode the necessity of lungs and

  heart from the living equation. Muscles and ligaments reattached in

  new stronger ways and began to fight back, pushing the blackness

  away.

  "Wake up, new one."

  She hated that voice, loathed it, even if the sultry
tones stirred

  renewed heat inside her, a different heat than she'd had before, more a

  heat of longing. Still the voice had to be shut up and the smugness

  35

  erased from memory. Her spine flexed, pushing her body upright.

  Blood-shot eyes launched open.

  "Welcome back."

  Helena hissed at the man on top of her trying to pin her shoulders

  back down onto the pillows.

  "I see you don't wake up in a good mood." He chuckled and dug

  into the meatiest part of her shoulder blades.

  Helena reared up and head butted him, letting him take some of her

  flesh and clothes with him as he faltered back onto her legs. She

  sliced her legs open, sending him toppling to the floor in a lovely

  sounding thud of flesh against hard surface. That was an addictive

  sound, better than a slap of flesh to flesh. The gorgeous quality of the

  sound made her yearn for more, like taking a tree limb and having at it

  with his back and ass.

  She readied her body to launch at him, but emitted a screech when

  her body sprung forward and crashed back onto the pillows, sending

  them scattering and her swaying and grappling in air.

  Constantine lurked over to the corpse and held it up on display.

  "Be very careful or you will end up like him?"

  * * * *

  Constantine sat down on the corpse and watched her. The change

  was beautiful, as he'd hoped for. Her primed body didn't collapse

  from the strain but took up the new blood that overrode her immune

  system, letting reservoirs inside her bubble to the surface and take

  over all daily functions, minus the ones she no longer needed.

  Her scent slowly morphed, shifting from prey to predator. Air

  thickened around her and cloyed at his nostrils, his body galvanized

  for an attack should she get loose. The scent of her transformation

  clogged his throat making him want to sink his teeth into her breasts

  and suckle her until she bleated for him to stop or to go further.

  His fingers clawed the air until he had to sit on his hands. He

  wanted to scratch at her, mark her as his own, imprinting her with

  slice marks only his hands could make.

  She scampered, hissing at the air, her hands swatting the rope trying

  to climb it or yank it from the ceiling. It was hard to tell which she