Bite Me (l.t)

Part 5

She felt like she was going to die. She was so hungry, but the only thing she knew would stop the hunger was just to plain horrible to even think about.

    “But you have to eat, Brooke.”

Yeah, she knew that already.

All night she sat by the window. When the sun went back up she went and lay down in bed under the covers. The sun had betrayed her. Again. It would have killed her, so she could have gotten out of this misery. She was still in her underdress and she should have felt cold. But she didn’t. Instead she felt numb. Empty. And hungry. God that hunger. She almost wanted to rip her stomach open and just scream as loud as she could. She closed her eyes and tried not to cry. Could even vampires cry? Wasn’t they supposed to be dead? Non-living. Well, this whole situation was fucked up so she had no idea how she was supposed to be like.

Louis Tomlinson. That piece of shit. She wished he was dead. His really annoying smile and that little twinkle in his eyes. And his brown shining hair that fell over his eyes... And his cheekbones, so beautifully shaped. And... No, what the hell?! Why would she think like that? He killed her. But still, she couldn’t deny it, he was hot. But still a murderer. He did not deserve to have peoples thinking nice things about him.

She sat up and jawed. Her stomach hurt of the hunger that she felt and she knew that if she waited any longer, she would probably snap and kill the first person that approached her door. And she did not want that to happen.

She heard a tapping on the window and snatched at it. There on the balcony stood no one other than Louis Tomlinson. What the hell did he do there? She covered her head with her covers and hoped that he would leave. She did not want to speak to him, less see him. He scared her, what if he hurt her even more? She heard a knock and shut her eyes closed, hoped that it was all a terrible dream. She heard footsteps and then the balconydoor was opened. Why hadn’t she lock it? How could she have been so utterly stupid? She shook in discomfort for what he could do to her.

Please just leave. Have you not done enough?

Heavy footsteps approached up to her bed and she curled into a fetal position. A weight pressed down the end of the bed and she heard nothing but her own stressful breaths. Then he spoke, or more correct, he whispered;

    “Brooke.”

She just lay there, pretended not to hear him and that she had fallen asleep. But again, that was another stupid move.

The covers was ripped of her body and he stood up, with them in his hands. She sat up with a start, breathing heavily.

     “Leave me alone!” She yelled.

     “Shhh!” He shushed. He dropped the covers on the floor beside the bed and climbed up in it. “We do not want you father in here now do we?”

She pressed herself up against the headboard. He crawled after her and grabbed her hands.

    “It’s okay, I will not hurt you.” He whispered and suddenly she felt calm. He pulled her down in a laying position and straddled her.

He leaned in and said;

     “I bet you want me right now. You want to feel me inside of you...” he interruptes himself with laughter when he saw her shaking her head. “Of course you do, don’t even deny it.” Then he pressed his lips to her neck, sucked at her skin and made her shiver in pleasure, even though she did not want to feel that way. What was happening? Why did she not fight him?

He licked up across her jaw line and took her head in his hands. She whimpered and pressed her eyes closed. His mouth left her face and she opened her eyes again. He was staring into her eyes. His blue into her brown ones. Then he kissed her. She just lay there, not wanting to give in to her lust of kissing him back just as passionately. He tangeled his fingers in her messy hair and pressed his tounge into her mouth. She tried to get away but he held her head in place.

    “Don’t try to fight it,” he breathed against her lips. He leaned back and pushed his hair out of his eyes. God he looked so hot and handsome! “You know you want this just as much as I want.”

Damn, he was right about that, she really wanted to kiss him, to touch him, and him to touch her. She sat up and wrapped her hands around his neck and pressed her forhead against his.

    “Yeah, I do,” she breathed out heavily and kisssed him. It was messy and wet but passionate. He let his hands trail down her back and grabbed her waist and lifted her up against his chest.

    “That’s right, love,” he panted and grabbed her bum and squeezed it hard. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him roughly.

He tried to get her underdress of but she pushed him back on the bed, and was soon over him, straddling his hips, and she could feel his boner press against her crotch.

She started to unbutton his shirt but her hands shaked too much so he finished it for her. She ran her hand over his abs, felt his pecs flex as she ran her hands over his chest. He grabbed her hands and just stared at her.

     “God, you’re so beautiful, you know that right?”

She did not answer and slipped her hands out of his grip and brought his hands to her breasts. He cupped them and squeezed them gently. She threw her head back and whimpered. He stripped her underdress down from her shoulders and down to her belly button, leaving her chest naked. He brought his hands back to her breasts and stroke his thumbs over her nipples, making them harden. She looked down at his satisfied face and moaned. For heaven’s sake, what was happening to her? Her hands found his belt and tried to unbuckle it and he gladly let her, not bothering to help her this time. She succeeded though without his help and was just going to pull his pants down his hips when there was a knock on her door. She threw herself backwards and stared at the door as it opened and revealed her father standing in the door, with a terrified expression on his face.

     “Brooke!” he yelled.

Brooke tried to cover her breasts with her hands and Louis laughed. Then suddenly her father started to laugh too. What the actual fuck? Then everything went black.

Brooke waked up in her bed, tangled in her covers, bathing in her own sweat. She panted hard and had a terrible headache. It was still sunny outside. She pressed her hands to her body to see if she still wore her underdress, and to her relief, it was still on. It had all been a dream. And thank God. A horrible dream, but at the same time, a hot dream. My my, it had been such a hot dream. No! She could not possibly be thinking that! But she felt herself drawn to him. She really wanted to feel his body against hers. His warm well formed body. But that was so wrong. It was more than wrong. It was twisted, sick, absurd and just... So wrong. What had he done to her when he had turned her? Had he done something that could have possibly made her feel this way? But if it was so wrong, why did it then feel so right at the same time?