Hellfire

Interval Five

Lucius' teeth throbbed, the dryness of his throat sated but the pressure remained, making it difficult to ignore the sexual frustration that had settled in him. His sex was swollen stiffly, almost painfully, throbbing hotly with his pulse from where it was trapped against his thigh. Her flustered breath, her scent of lust and spiced blood filling the car so heavily he couldn't ignore her. But he didn't dare look at her. Not yet. Not until his male instincts had quietened and he'd taken control.

Frustration touched Lucius. He'd done it again. Not as severely this time, no, but his mind had become lost, treating Susan as if she were a female vampire, not a human woman. All he had thought about was burying his teeth in deep and having her do the same, hungering to share blood and have her entirely, drowning in her heat and lust. He hadn't realised how much he'd drunk, not until he felt her body begin to weaken and her pulse lessen. He'd pulled away in time, but it left him unfulfilled. He needed her. It was heavy set in him, this craving. It wasn't like when his starved beast was rearing its head, savagely trying to survive. No, that had been calmed. His throat didn't rasp, and he knew if he drank from another, he'd taste something and be fulfilled. This was different. A sexual need. One that was tangled up in his addiction and made him lose control the moment he fed. It made him hazy, his mind fogging over with just one thought, his body tightening with one need. A beast in him roaring for the meal he'd been tempted by.

But he couldn't have her.

Susan moaned softly in her sleep, snapping his attention to her instantly, something he regretted. She lay in the seat, still in a sultry state after he'd ravaged her; hair mad, her right breast spilling from her dress, flesh bitten and bloodied from the two holes left by his incisors, the hem hiked up to unveil her lace briefs that he'd yanked down. He set his jaw at the sight, his teeth sliding out of their sheaths as the starved male in him surged, desiring to stir her and offer his own blood to her, craving to strip her bare and have her entirely. Feeding from her breast hadn't been enough. Pleasuring her and slipping his fingers into that wet heat had only tortured him further. He needed her to sate him, that liquid fire he'd been teased by sheathing him, dainty teeth sinking into his flesh.

She wasn't vampire however, and she didn't want to be, not only because it was taboo and would likely be the destruction of his entire House, but because she was too fearful of parasites to dare it, something he didn't blame her for. She would become something so inhuman and monstrous in her eyes and the eyes of others that it would bring nothing but misery to her.

It didn't stop his thoughts though. His mind drifted to a dangerous fantasy of her being vampire, tiny teeth bared whenever she was furious, sharing blood whenever he needed hers, asking to bite him. It made his teeth sharpen once again, the smell of Susan tantalising, the heat luring him to stir her with a kiss and rile her into that lustful frenzy once again, her desire for him giving him a rush he hadn't felt before.

But it wasn't Susan doing that. It was the venom. She'd only become like this since he'd started his feeds, when before she had been calm around him with only the slightest hint of attraction slipping from her - the slight flutter of a pulse when he drew too close, her desire to be close to him when she was overheated. Like himself, she ignored it. Pretending was safer for the both of them.

And knowing that was there, that dangerously, heated lure, made it all the more difficult to keep himself under control. To not act as if she was vampire - his bride.

Something stepped by outside, the rush of human heat and blood brushing his senses. Lucius' teeth, freshly swollen and aching once again, throbbed. With a soft frustrated growl, he melted away and flourished into existence outside, snatching at the lone woman making her way through the carpark. His grasp over her mind was set before she could even squeak, becoming limp against his chest as he bit down onto her throat, sinking his fangs deep. She writhed, squirming as pleasure burned through her, her heart flying and surging blood into his mouth. The blood didn't taste right, not that spicy taste that heated him, her cries too loud, and the woman was too tall, too dainty, to be his witch, but just ridding his venom helped. He poured his desire for Susan into this woman, his lust and cravings, his fantasies. Everything. Until finally he felt himself calming.

Lucius detached himself roughly, holding the woman carefully, but the blood-haze had lessened. Fresh blood seemed to help ground him, strengthening his willpower, and his teeth were no longer swollen with pent-up venom. With a flick of his thumb, the wound on the woman's throat healed, and he gently supported her, gripping her shoulders.

'Go home. Rest.' He instructed stiffly, his voice sounding husky even to him.

The woman nodded eagerly and swayed away, stumbling a little but still on her feet, her pulse strong, just elevated.

Lucius folded his arms, inhaling the city air clogged with the stink of petrol, tarmac and rain, running his tongue over his teeth. They were stumps now, almost human in appearance, and no longer ached. The tightness in his body was releasing, the raging fire for Susan fading. Control was coming back, that beast in him silencing its call.

Lucius swept into motion, fluidly striding back to his car and sinking into its seat, slamming the door lightly into place. He ran his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply and trying his best to ignore the scent of Susan, her blood and heat lingering in the cool air of his car, and instead latched onto his desire to protect her. His protection was what she needed most from him, his ability to keep her fire locked, to give her freedom and life, nothing more.

He turned to her, ignoring the beast clawing within his chest, flaring lust through him at the sight of her, and set to work in tidying her up, loathing to leave her in such a state after vowing to use her as a blood-whore. He gently pulled her skirt down, covering her thighs better, and, steeling himself from the desire to use his mouth, swept his thumb over the pinpricks buried in the swell over her breast. He couldn't heal it properly; two bruises being left behind like smudges over the cream of her skin. He knew Susan believed he did it on purpose, often casting waspish remarks about it. She didn't know why, and she didn't understand what it meant, but Alistair did. Arnold did. It's why they suspected him, never outright asking, but watching curiously. While Alistair was a little more approving, even daring to open conversation sometimes which Lucius walled icily against, Arnold wasn't. The panther watched with dislike when he saw Susan by Lucius' side, tension and distrust burning in him. Lucius didn't blame him. He knew his past. He knew what he was.

Lucius touched her chin, observing her face to help settle himself further. An imperfect yet perfect face. Soft, almond eyes, lips slightly too big, her small nose crooked from the times it had been broken over the years, her skin marked by a dusting of freckles and a tiny scar on her forehead. He was so used to women of his kind being perfect in every way that made Susan more appealing. Real.

And human.

The pad of his thumb brushed her lips, parting a small kiss, drinking in her sleeping face a moment longer, before he turned to twist the ignition to take her home, fury touching his brow that he was still falling deeper into this mess. He knew he had to stop the feeds. His desire was going to kill her. He just didn't know how when every inch of Susan lured him to her, her fight and fire, the lust that flared from her when his teeth sunk in, making him forget she was mortal and he wasn't, dragging him into a fantasy he always kept locked away.

With fluid motions, Lucius set the car into motions with an explosion of life, telling himself he was going to give Susan at least a fortnight before he'd feed from her again and push through the ache in his teeth. He'd be gentler. Less sexually aggressive.

Lucius knew that was a half-hearted promise. He would break. He always did when it came to Susan and that beast hidden in him, wild and scenting the blood of a female he craved, not caring if she was vampire or human, was already beginning to strain against his control and baring its fangs.

Susan was his.