Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Supernatural · #1538991
Jonathan, the groundskeeper, enters the story and guests are questioned
|Author's Note: If you want to read chapter four you will have to alter your personal settings to allow 'GC' selections to appear, it is in my portfolio, but carries this higher content rating because of the graphic sex scene.|
When our glow has worn off Rafe flicks on the worktable light, my kind and gentle lover helps to peel the tools off my back. The items became slightly imbedded in my flesh when he changed our position for the spectacular ending. Ah...there’s nothing like a good rogering from your husband to make you feel special and push the cares of the day away.
“Okay sweet cheeks, jump on down. You look fine.” He punctuates this with a slap to my hip.
My indignant look falls on an uninterested head and he starts to whistle softly in his happiness. I’m a non-whistler. Those that like to whistle, who aren’t very good, like Rafe, can be difficult to suffer through.
I decide to not let anything get my mood down, especially after I have supped so sweetly from my mate’s neck. A girl can forgive a lot after some fornicating, two great orgasms and a blood chaser. Never taking more than a taste, allows me to indulge more frequently. A lap of my tongue and the enzymes from my saliva repair any damage and leave Rafe unblemished. At my age, I don’t need much blood to survive. After a full feeding, I could go weeks without if I really had to, but thankfully that isn’t an issue with Rafe on hand.
Never one to let an opportunity to tease slip by, I jump down gracefully and look him square in the eye. He towers over me by a good seven inches, but the ‘come fuck me heels’ put us a little closer. Intensifying my look, I drop my lids and recall the way my body felt when I came that last time. I push out just a bit and watch his pupils dilate.
Want to go again? His voice rumbles in my mind.
I turn and step away. I hesitate a bit and look back over my shoulder. The corner of my mouth turns up in a delicious little grin.
“Later,” I say aloud, “Can you keep up baby?”
He chuckles and reaches out to smack me on my rump. I prance away with a little burst of speed and his fingers miss me, but barely. I spread my legs a bit and bend from the waist to pick up my discarded dress. His quick intake of breath is all the answer I need. Oh yes, he’ll be ready to play again later.
With the dress in my hand I rise and walk away without looking back.
“Come have some coffee with me upstairs. I need to discuss our new guests with you and see what you think.” I walk up the stairs, with my naked butt jiggling in the breeze, dress draped over my arm.
Who happens to be standing at the top of the stairs but Jonathan. Damn! Caught almost nudie with blatant physical evidence on me that I’ve recently made love. I can do this, I can pretend I always walk around like this.
“Umm,” I raise an eyebrow and look down at my watch, “you’re a bit early. It’s only 7:30”. I love to act slutty, but it’s usually on my terms, not being caught by surprise.
Jonathan is a sturdy man of medium height, about 5’9”, not that much more than my 5’6’’. He is dressed as usual; jeans and layers of thermal with a flannel plaid shirt. He has an almost lumberjack look to him. The smell surrounding him is outdoorsy with a hint of animal musk too. The thick chest of his torso is broad, his arms are corded with muscle under the bulky clothes.
I imagine he could’ve made an excellent wrestler, but picturing that is probably something I shouldn’t do right now. His strong features help him blend in well with the locals. The natural aura of confidence he has makes him a great choice with dealings in town.
He inhales deeply and a rumble starts deep in his chest. That bastard is scenting me and getting off on it! Arrogant prick.
“Down, boy. Let me get a robe on.”
I walk towards the bedroom as gracefully as I can in my semi nude state. I’m not going to cover up with my hands and act embarrassed. It would show weakness to a predator, and that is exactly what this werewolf is, something I can never allow myself to forget.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away.
He starts to snigger, “Nice hammer imprint on your shoulder blade.”
Deciding to rise above his school-aged amusement, I ignore him and keep walking. Rafe comes up the stairs as I cross into our closet for a robe. I grab the closest, an emerald green silk one, and hustle back out. Best to not leave those two alone too long.
“Watcha doing here wolfman? Like to listen in to what you’ll never get?”
Uh oh. Danger, Will Robinson, danger! I sprint down the hall projecting calm happy thoughts into their minds, and insert myself between the two. I catch them both right has Jonathan straightens up and prepares to launch himself at Rafe.
“Now, now, let’s play nice. Rafe, you must know why I’ve called Jonathan here.”
Jonathan is the only werewolf on our compound. He left his pack in Canada about seven years ago when he didn’t want to challenge his Alpha for dominance. I think he is an honorable man for doing so. Two powerful males wolves, Alphas, can’t stay in the same pack for long or a fight to the death is inevitable. Rafe stares down at the shorter but powerful man.
Time to get everyone back on track, and off the lingering scents of sex in the air.
“The whole ‘dead body in the shed’ thing.” I remind Rafe. He comes back to himself and meets my eyes with a fond smile. He loves baiting Jon, the jerk.
“What are you talking about Viv?” Jon looks like he’s almost back to his normal laid back self. Deep brown eyes leaking back from the lighter whisky brown of his insulted wolf. Rafe has lost interest in poking at him and goes to sit down. I fill Jonathan in on everything we know so far, including the location of the body in the shed and finish with the question he never did answer.
“Why are you here early? That is not like you.”
Jonathan doesn’t avoid the main house, but he’s just busier outside of it. In addition to being head groundskeeper, he has a huge pack of thirty Alaskan Malamute-wolf crossbreeds that he uses to patrol the property. He does come over when we ask him to, but it isn’t a habit of his to hang out and mingle, a bit of a loner and that’s fine by me. Once I started feeding from him seven years ago, Rafe hasn’t been overly friendly towards him. Jonathan has made his intentions clear: he wants to be my bonded mate.
The simple fact is a were’s blood is more potent than a human’s, and if I’m going to stay up around the clock in winter, I need more than can safely be taken from Rafe. He’s never minded in the past when I had to feed from some of the employees, but when Jonathan entered the picture, it was a whole new scene.
Jon’s blood makes me stronger, and with so many powerful vamps on site, it doesn’t pay to be weak. It doesn’t help matters that this were is a bit arrogant and makes a play for me whenever he thinks he can get away with it.
On principal, Rafe is on board. He’s secure in our relationship and trusts me, he just doesn’t like Jon. The cold reality is, through these feedings, Jon has become my servant. He wants to please me, protect me, provide for me. All the things a servant is supposed to want after a dual exchange of blood has taken place. This relationship, and all it’s complications, has led Rafe to tweaking him at every turn. He wants to put Jonathan firmly in his place and has no qualms about being cruel to do it.
Other monogamous mated couples with servants would not choose a were for the job, and with good reason. Weres are sexy as hell by nature; it’s a pheromone they put off. Jon’s blood smells like dark chocolate to me, and feeding from him is akin to drinking down hot cocoa spiked with adrenaline. The mate bond allows Rafe to experience first hand just how tasty Jon is. That is a hard lump for any man to swallow - the man their wife drinks from is just a tiny bit desirable to them too.
Jon finally answers my question about why he is here early, “There is an unknown vampire on the property.”
“What? I don’t understand,” I say, recoiling, “Do you think you may have confused the scent with some of the ones here on vacation?”
“No, I don’t make mistakes like that. Besides, I double checked outside all the cabins and all the entrances to the hotel. The trace is not from a guest nor is it someone who’s ever stayed here before.”
Rafe has been watching our interchange and finally comments, “Hmm, which means it could be related to the body of John Pierre in room six.”
That’s my Rafe: he loves to tease me, but he’s not some sharp-tongued witty detective either. I don’t release my snide observation of his less-than-stellar-addition, I have learned enough over the years to keep that one in.
He continues, “Is it possible Viv that you missed a scent up in room six of another vamp?”
Okay, now he has a valid point, dammit.
I think back to the moment. The smell was so overwhelming, I could have missed another vamp scent. And, to be honest, I did not think to walk around the room like a bloodhound. While it would have been awkward in my dress, it could have revealed some new information to us.
“Yes, it’s a possibility.” I turn to Jon, “You want to check it out later with me? If it is a match we should both get familiar with the scent.”
“Yeah, I’ll head up whenever you’re ready. Have you questioned the other guests yet?” Is that condescension I hear in Jon’s voice? I know I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I do remember to do at least that part!
“No, and I’m not an idiot. I will ask them. It’s only been,” I glance at my watch, “about two and a half hours since we discovered him. I have had other things to do you know. Business to run, guests to see to… that kind of thing.”
“You left off ‘husband to shag’”, smiles Rafe.
What can I say? I have a very strong sense of priorities and shagging my husband will always be at the top of the list. Yeah, yeah, I’m a tramp, but he loves that about me and that is all that matters in the big picture.
“Yes, well, no need to point out the obvious now, is there?” I reply with some heat.
“Uh um,” Jon clears his throat. “I came by early to tell you both my news, but why did you call me here?”
Jon knows why I called him, he just wants to hear me say it.
“It’s time for me to take a full feeding again. It’s been a few weeks and I knew you’d be able.” I keep the tone light and neutral.
I project my need just a bit, letting the hunger envelope him so he knows what to expect. It’s not a rip-your-throat-out kind of feel, more of a ‘topping off before a long hike’ one. I don’t ever get famished with Rafe around. The murder has made me prefer to play it safe and be strong when I know I may need it.
Jon looks like he’s anticipating that this could be the moment he’s been dreaming of.
“Finally decided to dump that human you’ve shackled yourself to and mate with the stronger man?” He grins and I know it’s partly to hide his own feelings of self doubt. Rafe just snorts and walks away.
“Anytime you want to see who the stronger man is, Jon, you just let me know.” Rafe goes to the fridge and collects ingredients for his dinner. He gives Jon his back, a clear sign to the were he doesn’t consider him a real challenge for his mate. The blood bond between us has made Rafe as fast as a vamp and as strong. My husband has no need to prove his point or fear Jon and he knows it.
Rafe also doesn’t have my weakness of the sun or aversion to silver. He’s faster to heal and harder to kill, and I’m proud to see, he wears his added strengths well. No one likes their mate eager to get into a physical altercation with every servant to just prove their higher position, that kind of jealously gets tedious and needs to be nipped.
Werewolves are fast, strong and heal impossibly fast too. They have the added bonus of being able to move around in the sun and turn into huge wolves whenever they want to tear apart an enemy. Their downsides are they have to change at the full moon, in addition to a volatile temper and an aversion to silver as well.
All supernaturals can be killed by dismemberment, burning and silver through the heart. Silver can also be a useful way to bind a supernatural being, but thankfully silver chains and the like are hard to come by. A very special order type of item to say the least! I know when I ordered them for the dungeon rooms, they were very expensive and took a long time in arriving.
“Done yet, you two?” I ask as bland as I can. Silence. “Okay then. Jon, come into the office with me.”
I walk towards the bedroom and make a left into the office Rafe and I share. Jon settles himself on the couch with an eager look on his face. A vampire bite is usually a pleasant experience. The vampire can control the donor’s mind instantly, remove any pain associated with the bite, and turn it into passion. It is common to even let the person experience an orgasm during the feeding. I have no desire to leave Jon hot and bothered every month nor will I give him pleasure. I’ve altered the feelings he would normally get from this deep feeding, to something he really wants and needs. He doesn’t know I’ve read that his deepest desire is to have a pack of his own.
We have given him that here, to an extent, with us and all his wolves. Some day I’ll find him a female were and all will be good. Until then, I do the best I can to not hurt him. Sitting on the couch next to him, I feel the excitement come off him in waves. He is hopeful this time I will make it sexual, but sadly that will never happen. I angle my body towards him and he turns to face me. He looks deep into my emerald green eyes and sighs.
“God, Viv, you’re so beautiful. You know you ever get tired of him you just have to call.”
I smile and ignore the comment as I deepen my look to put him into a relaxed state. I project calm, feelings of home and acceptance, security and love. These are the key components in a pack and I’m able to help him to feel it the most when he’s here by my side.
I project the smells of the forest and earth along with the heavy wolf scent found in a den. His shoulders relax and he sinks back into the couch. I feel the tension drain from his body and his earlier anticipation of a romp has been replaced by the warm cocooning feel of the pack. He drops his head back, breaking our eye contact, to the cushion behind him and breathes in the scents he thinks are engulfing him.
I move forward not allowing my body to touch his. The spell is a delicate one to weave and I don’t want to break it. Cool lips graze his warm neck and I gently test his skin with my teeth. Incisors elongate and sharpen, eager to pierce his skin. I project more of the same sensations I’ve been feeding him since we locked eyes and place my mouth firmly on his neck over his pounding pulse. The smell of him is delicious, a combination of dark chocolate from Godiva and warm male fresh from outdoor exertion.
I shudder as I feel the blood rush under his skin through the vein. This is the moment of control that differentiates a young vamp from an experienced one. It would be so easy to rip into his skin and just take and take. The desire to do just that is a hard one to contain, but one I always must.
I allow one sharp fang to puncture the surface and my mouth fills with blood. I start to drink down his life as it flows over my tongue. The flavors that assail my senses are amazing. I can read all of him in this one moment if I choose too. Every secret, every desire, every thought. Nothing can be hidden from nosferatu when they feed. It is a form of self preservation, I believe.
I block the images that flood my mind, needing to hold myself apart from him for to protect his heart.
Jonathan sighs and his eyes slowly close. The feelings of contentment wrap around him like a hug. I know, from past feedings, he will soon drift off to sleep and let the peace that envelopes him complete its loving embrace.
The warmth of his blood starts to fill my body. I’m naturally on the cold side, so being infused with so much blood at one time makes me feel almost feverish. Even though I project calm and peace, I feel a flame from within. I never fail to get turned on when taking blood, but what I do with that arousal is what counts.
Enjoying your dinner, lov? I can feel the power coursing through you. You’re feeling a bit warm in all my favorite places.
I work the wound and pull deeply on his neck. Instinctively, I know exactly how much to take and I’m almost done. No matter that he tastes so damn good that I want to keep going. It is easy to see why some vampires get addicted to were blood. I’m not sure if weres all taste like chocolate, or if it is just like that for me. Having only supped from a few weres in my lifetime, one thing is clear; they are all damn yummy.
Yes, it’s like licking chocolate off mister stiffy and having a blood chaser at the end.
I hear Rafe’s sharp bark of laughter from the next room.
At least that furball is good for something.
I lap at the small wound, sealing it beneath my tongue. Jon has drifted off to sleep. I rise from the couch and reach down to adjust his legs. Swinging them up on to the couch, I then move forward to cover his slumbering form with a blanket. He’ll be out for at least an hour and it’s the least I can do to make him comfortable.
The power pulsing through me right now is amazing. It feels like I have fed from a half dozen donors at once, but without the bloating. The zing is refreshing, like I’ve slept a whole day after being up for weeks. There is a strong sensation, like a surge of electricity, pulsing under my skin.
The power is so great, I feel slightly high with the thought I could rule the world. Muhuhahaha!!
God, Viv, you’re too much! Rafe laughs out loud with me, at least I prefer to think that over laughing at me. Rule the world? Now you’re sounding like you’ve had too much alcohol to drink!
Maybe he isn’t quite laughing with me. Well, okay then, maybe I can go on ruling my own little corner of it. I trip on the edge of the robe in my haste to leave the room, stumble and catch myself before actually falling. Then again, maybe not. I’ll be lucky not to make an ass out of myself in the next few hours.
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"Vampire Vacation - The Novel GROUP"