Lights flashed and music throbbed throughout the club, a mass of bodies writhing in time to the beat on the dance floor. Unnoticed amongst the crowd, he led the drunk girl by the hand. “Come on!” he yelled, barely heard above the noise. She giggled and stumbled forward, tripping over her heels, clad in a short, tight, black dress. Her long red hair was far from the pretty do she had started the night in, but she was having fun. Who cared about how her hair looked? This guy certainly didn’t.
It took only a few moments for them to reach the bathroom doors, out of the way from the partiers. He pulled her in for a kiss and they crashed through, giggling. Miraculously, it was empty.
“Shhhh!” she said loudly and drunkenly, holding a finger to her lips. “We have to be quiet!” she whisper shouted. She took his hand and stumbled forward, looking in the stalls. “That one!” she shouted, forgetting her previous want to be quiet, pointing at an open stall that fit her drunken requirements and setting her clutch down on the counter of sinks. She giggled and pulled him closer, pushing him towards the stall.
He chuckled and allowed himself to be pushed around by this much smaller woman. He hit the toilet and sat down hard, laughing still, smiling. The woman took a step closer, then straddled him, her dress riding up. He held her by the hips and looked up at her pale face, framed by her strewn hair.
“You,” she said in a drunken slur, poking his chest with a single finger. “Just leave everything…” she leaned forward, putting her mouth against his ear. “To me,” she finished, whispering seductively. She nibbled his ear, and an involuntary shudder went through his body. He chuckled, feeling a wave of excitement go through his body. She giggled, kissing his jawline, moving down his neck. He moved his hands to her hemline, snaking his hands up her legs to cup her ass, lifting the dress out of the way. She gave his neck a nibble, sending another shiver through him, and squeezed her ass through the lace panties in response.
Suddenly, he started feeling lightheaded, and a little dizzy. He blinked once, twice, his vision getting a little blurry. He started feeling very groggy. “Wha…what’s happening?” he asked, his eyes fighting to close.
She lifted her mouth from his neck, cradling his head in her arm. “Shhh shh shh,” she hushed in his ear. “Everything’s fine.” She didn’t sound drunk anymore. She kissed his cheek, then put her mouth back to his neck. As blackness crept into the corner of his vision, and a pleasant buzzing filled his head, spreading through his body, his last thought was of regret, of not being able to fuck this wild woman.
She took one long, final pull from her drink and swallowed, letting out a satisfied sigh. She smiled, licking her lips. She cleaned the corners of her mouth with her thumb, and sucked it off.
He had passed minutes before, but it was important not to leave a drop behind. Juliet didn’t know when she’d be able to feed like this again, and she wanted it to last. She looked at the pale, drained face of the man who was her latest victim. She kissed his forehead and got off of his lap. She felt full, filled with the thrill of the hunt, the excitement of the kill, and of course, his blood.
Juliet straightened her dress and went to the mirror to inspect the damage to her makeup and see if there was any blood left on her. She looked at her teeth, licking a stray drop of blood off of one of her fangs, and sucked on her front teeth, clearing a bit of blood stuck between them. Retracting her fangs, she looked at her face. Not too bad, all things considered. She cleaned a smear of lipstick off the top of her lip, reached into her clutch, and reapplied the blood red color. Juliet gave her face a quick touch-up, then pulled out her phone, getting an Uber. She smiled to herself in the mirror one last time, giving a last check, and then walked out the bathroom, leaving no trace of her passing.
As she left the club, the crowds parted unconsciously around her, like a school of fish parting around a shark. The noise was starting to give her a migraine, and wanted a change in scenery. Something classier to relax and enjoy herself. The only reason she had come here to begin with was because it was an easy hunting ground, and it would be hours before anyone thought the man in the bathroom was anything other than passed out from drink or drugs.
It was a busy night, and her Uber was there in just a minute or two. She got in the back seat, and the Uber pulled out into traffic, going to her chosen destination. The driver was silent, and she was alright with that. She paid him no mind, looking out the window, lost in contemplation. Before she realized it, they were at her destination, one of the more upscale hotels in the city.
“Thanks,” she said absently, dropping a twenty dollar bill in the front passenger seat and getting out. She walked to the front desk. “Where’s the bar?” she asked the young man behind the counter.
“It’s over that way, ma’am,” he said cheerfully with a smile. “Are you looking for a room for the night?”
“Maybe,” Juliet purred at the boy. “I’ll let you know later.” She winked and walked to the bar, hips swaying side to side. She enjoyed playing with her food, even when she wasn’t hungry.
Juliet walked to the bar and took a seat. A plain looking woman in a hotel uniform approached her. “What can I get you tonight ma’am?” she asked politely, that same smile on her face.
“A redheaded slut, please.”
She blinked twice, but that was her only reaction. “I’m sorry?” she asked, unsure.
“The drink, a redheaded slut.”
She blinked one more time, then clarity came through. “Oh, of course. Right away, ma’am. Can I see your I.D.?” Juliet fished her fake driver’s license out of her clutch and showed it to the girl. She nodded and turned around, pulling out ingredients to make the drink.
Juliet took this time to survey the bar. There were couples scattered around, sitting at the tables or booths, punctuated by the occasional lone drinker. Some were lost in thought, others engrossed with their phones, still others enjoying the soft atmosphere and reading.
The bartender set the drink in front of Juliet. “Thank you,” she said, taking the drink and looking around the bar again.
“You know,” said a voice behind her, almost startling her. “I’d be careful who I show that to if I were you.” Juliet spun on the barstool to see a man leaning against the bar. When had he approached? She hadn’t heard him, hadn’t sensed him. She could count on one hand the number of times in the last 300 years someone had snuck up on her, and none of them had been by mortals.
“Oh? Why’s that?” Juliet asked innocently. He was an attractive, older man. Old enough to start to get a little grey in his hair, at least. Clean shaven, but with piercing grey eyes that seemed to look through her and into her core. They were the eyes of a predator. If she had a heartbeat, it would have sped up.
“Because,” he said, looking around, leaning closer, before whispering, “It’s a fake. The hologram is a sticker, and the address is in the wrong place, Miss…” He glanced over at the license again. “Juliet.”
Juliet shrugged. “Suppose it is. What are you going to do about it?”
“Me? Absolutely nothing. I’m not one to deny someone their pleasures.” He set his own drink on the bar and took the stool next to her. There was a fluidness about his movements that belied a strong body underneath the well-tailored suit he was wearing. “Giving me the elevator eyes?” he asked, a smile on his lips, but not in his eyes.
She took a sip of her drink. “Maybe. I’m seeing how you measure up to the other men around her.” She gestured over her shoulder with her free hand. “So far, I like what I see.”
He gave her a pointed up and down. His eyes made her feel exposed, more even than the small dress she was wearing. He could see something in her. She saw it in his eyes. What did he see? This man intrigued her. He clearly wanted her, and she found herself wanting him.
“I have to concur. You definitely measure a step above the rest of the women here.”
“Is that all you’re looking for then? A woman for the evening?”
“Can you blame a lonely old man for seeking companionship?” He took a sip of his drink.
She drank in kind. They stared at each other in silence, the noise of the bar fading to nothingness around them. He broke eye contact first, signaling to the bartender. “Another for me, please. And put her drink and her next on my room, 408.” The woman smiled and nodded, taking his glass and making a new drink.
The man reached out to touch her arm. She wanted to move it away, but couldn’t. He gently stroked it. Goosebumps stood up on her arm at his touch. “You’re cold,” he said, standing up and taking off his jacket. He walked behind her and draped it on her shoulders. His hands lay there heavily. She could feel his breath on her neck as he leaned closer to whisper into her ear. “You can just leave it with someone in the hotel. They’ll bring it back to me.”
The bartender set the man’s fresh drink on the bar. As if a spell had been broken, the man stepped away from her and to the drink. He took it in one hand, raising it in thanks to the bartender before taking a sip and walking away.
“Wait!” Juliet cried involuntarily after him. “What’s your name?”
He turned around to look at her, taking a few steps backwards. “Does it matter?” he asked, before turning back around and walking to the elevators. She watched him the whole way, until the elevator doors closed, cutting him from her field of view.
Juliet stared after him, not sure what to make of what had just happened. She was curious, confused, intrigued. This man was… Well, to be cliché, he was different. She set down her now empty drink on the bar, and gestured to the bartender for another. The young woman started making the drink while Juliet reflected on the encounter. The way he moved, the way he talked, even the slightest gestures.
Juliet started on her new drink. He wasn’t any predator. He was a predator like she was. She thought for a few minutes more, then downed her drink in one swallow. She stood up, pulling the coat over her, and went to the elevator.
*What am I doing?* Juliet asked herself as she entered and pushed the button for the fourth floor. She could smell his scent, strong and cloying. She felt excitement she hadn’t for a very long time. The doors opened, and she followed his scent, down the hall, her shoes making a muffled sound on the carpet. Before she knew what was happening, she was in front of his room. *I should just leave,* she thought as she knocked on the door once, twice. She could hear his footsteps approaching, feel the vibration through the floor. *I’ll just turn around and leave.* She was rooted to the spot. There was a pause as he looked through the peep hole, and then unlocked the door. It swung inward.
Michael stood in the open doorway, holding onto the top of the door with one hand, while in the other he held his drink from the bar. He was barefoot on the hotel carpet, his belt undone, his shirt untucked and opened, the sleeves unbuttoned and flared out. “Miss Juliet,” he said nonchalantly, taking a sip from his glass. “I didn’t expect to see you up here.”
She rubbed her arms together, looking pitiful. “I appreciate the coat, but I’m still cold,” she said, a forlorn tone creeping into her voice. This was how she played the game. She lured men into her trap. Michael was a man unlike any she’d met. She wanted to hold him and smother him and devour him, lust and bloodlust raging equally inside her. She wanted to catch him. She wanted him to be free.
“Do you need a place to stay for the night?”
She looked at the floor, nodding. Her hunter’s instincts were in full control now. He would not leave this room alive. Juliet tucked a stray hair behind her ear and looked up at him. “Please?”
He looked at her for a moment, weighing some decision behind those cold gray eyes. “And what if I say no?”
Juliet put her eyes back on the floor. “Please?” she said once more, pitifully.
He watched her a few moments longer, and then stepped back, pulling the door open and gesturing into the room.
She stood at the threshold. “You have to invite me,” she said in that same tone of voice that made kind men want to protect her, and vicious men want to take advantage of her.
“Please, come in,” he said once more with the same inviting gesture.
Juliet stepped into the room, looking around. It was a nice, plain, normal room. A single bed, a dresser with a television, a bathroom and a closet right off the entrance. A bottle of whisky sat on one of the nightstands next to a glass, and a full, fresh bucket of ice.
He closed the door behind her and followed her into the room. “My name is Michael, by the way. Would you like another drink?” he asked, going to the nightstand.
“No, thank, you, I probably shouldn’t.” He ignored her, putting ice in the glass and pouring the whisky overtop, and then handing it to her. She took it in both hands and took a sip. It was nice. Smooth, but with a bite.
Michael took a sip of his, looking at her, then set down his drink, walking behind her. She was instantly wary, though she didn’t know why. She could feel his hands on her shoulders, going to the collar of the coat, and grasping it, and removing it from her shoulders. “Thank you,” she mumbled, taking another sip. She heard him toss the coat towards the dresser.
“You know, you’re stronger than you look,” he said in almost a whisper, putting his hands back on her shoulders.
She tensed up. Michael reached around her, encircling her with one arm, and took the glass from her hand, setting it on the dresser as well, the ice chinking. Slowly, he started kissing her neck and shoulder. Juliet leaned into it, enjoying the attention. His hands went to the straps of her dress, sliding them off of her shoulders. The dress fell to the floor, revealing her pale breasts and skin to the poorly lit hotel room. He kissed down her neck, down her spine, slowly, tantalizingly, his hands moving down her arms, then to her sides, barely touching her skin, staying even with his kisses.
He must have been kneeling behind her now, his kisses right above her black lace panties, his hands on her hips. His hands continued down while his kisses stopped, trailing down her thighs, curling around behind her legs and slowly trailing back up. “You look so soft and round,” he said between kisses on her lower back. “But the muscles underneath are so very, very strong.” He gave her ass a pinch with one hand.
Before Juliet even knew she had done it, she had spun around, took him by the throat, and pinned him against the wall behind her. He seemed completely unphased. “You’re pretty fast, too,” he commented, a smirk on his face.
Juliet relaxed her grip, pressing her bosom against him, putting both of her hands on his chest inside his open shirt. She kissed his chest, slowly making her way up, kissing his throat, and the joint of his neck. He stopped her, though. Reaching up, he took her chin in his hand and made her make eye contact. He bent forward and kissed her on the lips, a soft, gentle kiss that she wasn’t expecting. Juliet responded in kind, feeling his soft lips under hers, their tongues probing gently against the others. Michael broke the kiss, keeping eye contact, licked his lips, and smiled. He bent down, as if to kiss her again, and then went past her mouth to her ear. Softly, with warm breath, he whispered, “You taste like blood.”
Juliet froze. “How would you know?” she asked in that same whisper into his ear.
“Everyone knows what blood tastes like, what it smells like. As soon as you started talking to me, I could smell it on you.”
Juliet pulled back a little, pushing Michael back against the wall. With a single finger, she drew a line on his chest. A red mark appeared behind her finger. “I like blood,” she said, looking at the red mark on his chest.
“You sound like a vampire,” Michael stated.
“Maybe I am.” Juliet listened to the beating of his heart. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. She bent her neck up to make eye contact again. She knew that her eyes had changed, from the normal round pupils of a human, to the almost catlike slits of a hungry vampire. “Maybe you’re my prey,” she purred.
His heart continued in the same steady, rhythmic thump it had from when they had first met. His eyes showed nothing. No fear, no surprise, no shock. Nothing. “Show me,” he commanded.
Slowly, she opened her mouth, her canines elongating, reshaping to the needle-like vampires fangs. She ran her tongue over one, then smiled, keeping her teeth exposed. He showed again, no reaction. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Finally, he broke his silence. “They suite you.”
He put a hand on her bare chest and pushed her away, towards the bed. With his other hand, Michael reached into his pocket, pulling out a folding knife. He took off his shirt and dropped it to the floor next to him. He unbuttoned his pants, and those similarly fell to the floor, along with his boxers. He stood before her, naked, muscles moving under his skin, cock erect. With a flick, he opened the knife. He put the tip of it on his chest and drug it along the red mark that Juliet had made, a line of blood welling up behind it, with one or two small streams starting to run down.
The scent of his blood filled the air, and it was everything that Juliet could do to restrain herself. Michael took the flat of the knife and ran it over the small streams, catching it, smearing it on the blade and his chest. He carefully wiped the blood from the blade onto his cock. “Suck it,” he commanded, gesturing to his bloody member.
Juliet hardly registered kneeling on the ground at his feet. She started by licking off the blood with her deft tongue, moaning in pleasure from the taste. It was so deep and rich and complex. She wished there was more of it. After licking every last bit of it off, she took him in her mouth as far as she could, wrapping her soft lips around him. She bobbed her head, his cock going in and out, in and out. She opened her mouth once more, pulling him out of her mouth, the tip of a single fang grazing his shaft before circling the sensitive head. She giggled, and then returned to pleasuring him with her mouth.
Michael took Juliets hair loosely in his free hand. He traced the flat of the knife blade on her shoulders, along the side of her neck, smearing his blood on her white flesh. He put the tip of the blade on Juliets cheek. She stopped what she was doing, looking up at him. “Do it,” she whispered urgently. Michael flicked his wrist, drawing a line of blood under her cheekbone, and she gasped in pleasure of the pain.
He cupped his hand under her chin and drew her up to a standing position. He bent down and licked the blood from her face. Juliet trembled in anticipation. Michael looked at her face again, seeing if he had missed any, and the cut had vanished, completely healed.
Michael tilted his head in curiosity. He released Juliets hair, and slapped her across the face, the sound ringing in the rooms. Juliet was caught completely by surprise. She swung her head back, eyes flashing, snarl on her face.
Michael slapped her across the face again. “Stop it,” he said in a commanding tone. Juliet composed her face into expressionlessness before turning her face back up to meet his. “Lay down on the bed,” he said again in that same commanding tone.
Juliet stood up and backed up until she hit the bed. She sat down on the edge, swung her legs around, and lay down on the bed, resting her head on the pillows.
Michael crawled onto the bed, kneeling at the foot. He leaned over, setting the blade of his knife on her breastbone. He played it down her stomach, slowly, the tip barely touching her skin. She felt the point dragging at her skin, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Lower and lower the blade ventured, until it was at her black lace panties. Michael took the fabric at one hand, and cut it, first through one side, then the other. He pulled the torn fabric out from under her and tossed it in a heap up next to her head.
He took the blade of his knife and brought it to his outer forearm. Michael cut himself again, a deeper cut, just above the wrist. Michael coated the blade carefully in his blood, and brought it to his mouth. He licked the blade, slowly, showing the red on his tongue, and then bowed his head to her pussy. He gave her now moist cunt a languorous, full lick, from bottom to top, the tip of his tongue barely flicking her clit at the top of the lick. He dove into her pussy with the ease of a man well experienced, starting with half licks, teasing her entrance, randomly punctuated with another full lick and flick.
Juliet was in exquisite ecstasy and agony. The scent of his blood was driving her mad with a renewed hunger, but was distracted by the pleasure this man was giving her with his mouth. She reached down with one hand, grabbing his hair, encouraging him to continue his ministrations on her womanhood. With the other hand, she grabbed the hand of the arm he had cut, trying to bring it to her mouth for her to dine on as well. Alas, she could not reach it. Juliet contented herself to dipping her fingers in his blood, and bringing the scarlet tipped fingers to her mouth. His blood was delicious.
The pleasure of feeding and the pleasure of his tongue combined into a single pleasure, a moan escaping from her throat. Juliet sucked hard on her fingers, then went for another mouthful, then another. Her hips started bucking against his strong, soft tongue, finding that spot. He could tell she was close, and held his tongue firmly in one spot, allowing her to bring herself over the edge on his mouth. Her moans were coming faster, more urgently. Another mouthful. There. Right there! Juliet cried out in pleasure as she came to climax, her body tensed, then quivered, shaking, wracked with wave on wave of pleasure coursing through her.
Michael gave her pussy another long, slow lick, allowing her to come down from the intense experience. He kissed her pussy lips, then, her clit, then her mound, slowly kissing up her body. He dragged his chest across her skin, smearing his blood on her body. Finally, his lips were on her mouth. He gave her a hard, forceful kiss, his tongue playing on her teeth, on her fangs. He reached for something she couldn’t see, then took her wrists in his hands. He brought them up above her head, and then looped something over them and pulled it tight. She broke off the kiss and looked up, seeing it was his tie.
“Keep these here,” Michael commanded. Then he took the ruined lace panties in his hand, and stuffed them in her mouth. He pushed himself up onto his arms and maneuvered his hips. She could feel the tip of his cock against her pussy, teasing it, parting her lips. With excruciating slowness, he moved his hips in, and out, teasing with just the head, wet with his blood and saliva, and her own wetness. Inch by inch, he went in, then out, deeper with each thrust, allowing his cock to become lubed with their fluids. Finally, he pulled his cock all the way out, and slammed it all the way in, as far as he could. Juliet let out a groan of pleasure, arcing her back instinctively.
With a ferocity she hadn’t experienced in ages, he fucked her pussy deep and hard, grunting with exertion at each thrust, his hips colliding with hers. Drops of blood flung off of his chest each time he drove his cock home, spattering her body and the sheets beneath her. Michael shifted his weight to one arm, and brought the knife back into play between his thrusts. He cut her shallowly across her neck and collar bone, then licked it clean. He cut across the top of her breast, then licked it clean. He continued over and over across her upper torso. Cut, thrust, lick, thrust. The pain and pleasure spiraled together into a single sensation.
His knife cut across her sensitive nipple, all the way through, and he licked it right after, suckling on it. It was more than Juliet could bear. Without thinking, she ripped her arms apart, faintly hearing the shredding of the tie as it tore from her strength, and wrapped her arms around him, clawing his back. She could feel her nails breaking skin, smell the blood as it filled the room. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held him close as she came again on his thick, hard cock, screaming in pleasure, muffled by the wad of panties in her mouth. Juliet felt at the same time his thrusting become more urgent, increasing in pace, until he too reached climax, an animal like groan erupting from his throat as he came deep inside her. Juliet could feel his cock pulsing in pleasure inside of her as he filled her with his thick, warm cum.
They lay this way for a moment, panting, trying to catch their breath. Eventually, Juliet released her hold on him. He pushed himself up and away, pulling his still erect member out of her. She felt some of his cum dribble out and trail down her skin to the sheets. He reached up and pulled the wad of cloth from her mouth, then made eye contact with her. “That,” he said, “Was my favorite tie.”
Juliet looked down, almost ashamed. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
He turned away from her and sat on the edge of the bed. “You can lick my wounds,” he said, giving his permission.
She crawled over to him, setting her hands on his shoulders. She ran her tongue over one of the long scratches on his back, lapping the blood off. As she eagerly licked the blood from his wounds, they healed. When she had finished his back, she got off the bed to stand in front of him. His chest was covered in his own sticky blood, but she had only been given permission to lick his wounds. She bent over, her hands on his shoulder again, and licked the knife wound on his chest, healing it as well. Juliet took his hand, and licked the deeper cut above his wrist, probing into it with her tongue, savoring the taste. The whole time, he showed no pain or reaction at all, as if he was a statue.
When she was finished, Michael rose from the bed without saying a word, and walked to the bathroom. She stayed where she was. Juliet heard the shower turn on, and after a moment, the door opening and closing as he got in. After a moment’s thought, Juliet went to join him.
He didn’t turn as she entered the bathroom, nor when she opened the shower door and stepped in behind him, closing the door behind her. Red water circled the drain as he washed the blood from his body. Still without saying anything, he moved in the shower so that she could access some of the stream. They cleaned their bodies in silence.
As the last of the blood was washed away, he turned around again. Juliet pressed her bosom against his back and reached around under his arms, putting a hand on each side of his chest. Michael pressed on hand against hers.
Finally, he broke the silence. “When I saw you in the bar, I decided that I was going to kill you.”
She could hear the unspoken words. He’d done it many times, in many cities, to many other women. Juliet said nothing.
“Then, the moment you turned to look at me, I wasn’t sure that I could. Not that I didn’t want to, or because I wouldn’t be able to, but because I wasn’t sure if I would kill you, or you would kill me. So I retreated. I knew that if we continued, one of us would be dead, and I didn’t know who. I know you felt the same. Well, almost.”
Again, Juliet said nothing.
“I let you make the decision, whether there would be a contest or not. When I saw you outside my room, I knew for sure that it would be me who would die by your hands tonight.”
The only sound was the falling of the water. “You let me in. Once you invited me, your life was mine to play with.”
Michael gave a single exhale of laughter. “So I did. Yet, I still live.”
“I’m not done playing yet.”
Michael pulled her hands away from him and turned to face her, then pulled her in for a hug. “Then shall we hunt?” he asked.
A shiver ran down Juliets spine. She smiled up at him, her fangs showing. “Let’s.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/f7oi4h/bloodlust_vampire_blood_mf