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My new mate wants a good fucking after her dinner? Then who am I to deny her? We are perfectly concealed in these shadows, save for the pathetic, beguiled human on the floor beside us. I can sense at least five other couples around the room doing the same thing.
My hands grasp the cheeks of her ass and turn around, pinning her to the wall instead. She moans and wriggles as I free myself from the cloth prison of my slacks. I grasp at her mound next, shoving her panties to the side. I can feel her wetness for me, her desire to be controlled. She needs her mate to fill her up and keep her in check.
Positioning myself at the hot entrance of her slick cunt I look deeply into her eyes. She is still wild, not quite in control of herself. “Forgive me,” I whisper, hoping my Wren will return soon. Nails dig into my shoulders, enough to draw blood. The pain is electrifying, and I slam myself into her warm wet sex. This won’t be gentle, and this isn’t meant to be romantic. This isn’t lovemaking, it's rutting.
I am able to glide in and out of her sweet hole with ease. I groan as I fill her, pounding myself deep within her, giving her my entire length. I plow into her, crushing her to the stone wall behind her. She whimpers and moans in my ear, biting down on my shoulder, and muffling her cries.
No one can hear us over the music except maybe a few vampires. And if they do, they certainly won’t care what my mate and I are doing. I pump myself in and out of her juicy cunt, relishing how her muscles clench against me, desperately hoping to keep me within her for eternity. My hips buck and roll, and I began grinding myself into her with each thrust, stimulating her clit.
Her cries grow louder as her body breaks around me. I feel her hips moving back against me as Wren desperately reaches her peak. She throws her head back as she cries in pleasure, getting the release she craves, letting it sweep over her as my cock slams into her with reckless abandon. Using only one hand to support her, trusting that the wall I have her pressed into will do the rest, I pin her neck against it. A fire burns in her eyes, but this time it is the fire of passion, not rage.
I fuck her through her orgasm, driving myself to the edge of madness as I do. But I want to look my love in her eyes. She may have decided to use me to satisfy her other hunger after feeding, but that doesn’t mean I will let her get away with using me like a sex toy.
I cut off her air supply. Her delicate neck feels so breakable in my hand. Of course, she doesn’t need air, but it startles her at first. I can see fear flash in her eyes briefly before realizing I am her mate and there is no way I will hurt her. No, this is about dominating that force in her. I made her a vampire and I will not let this version of Wren take over. I stretch and fill her so completely that she will bend to my will.
Mine, forever.
Another wave of ecstasy takes hold of her body as I feel her tight little cunt ripple around me. She screams soundlessly, and her wetness drenches me as I fuck her. Seeing her like this is too much and my thrusts are too fast. If she had been human still, I would have broken her frail body with the sheer force of me.
With a last buck of my hips, I feel the release I’ve been seeking. My cock pulses and twitches inside her, filling her with my seed. The final moments of her climax tugging and pulling at me, walls pulsing in pleasure. I kiss her mouth hard and release her throat.
I don’t want to leave her. No, I want to harden while still inside of her and fuck her raw.
Glancing around, I know this isn’t the time. I only gave her this because of the dark version of herself that has yet to merge with her mind. She is still trying to keep her control, and if I don’t give her what she wants, she will take it, likely in the middle of the dance floor. Pulling from her, I stuff myself back into my pants and lower Wren gently so her feet can touch the floor again. She fixes herself, and I notice her eyes look back to normal. My Wren is in control again.
I kiss her temple and whisper, “Let’s go home, my love.” She nods, still trapped in the afterglow. I help guide her out of the club, down the street, and back to where the car is parked. Rolando and Charlee are already waiting for us so we can go to the safe house. None of us fed. The only purpose of tonight, is for Wren to learn how to feed and for the human to walk away.
Our goal is an apartment building a few doors down from Charlee’s shop. The tiny five-story building is a property we maintain for sporadic use. I lead Wren to the top floor, but she grows heavy against me when we get there. Opening the door, I gather her into my arms. The sun is still an hour from rising, but she’s had quite the evening.
Laying her gently on the bed, I remove her shoes and clothing as well as my own. Nestling in beside her, entwining my body with hers, I watch the rise and fall of her breasts as she takes deep breaths in her sleep.
I fall asleep thinking that one day I will lose myself in her body and never surface. This brings about the most beautiful dreams I’ve ever had.
Dayspassby,andthe house is in a state of calm serenity. Wren spends her evenings in art mostly. I spend many nights simply watching her.
Compelling a handful of humans at a time, Wren is getting better and better at controlling her wild side. With only one more notable time that she had any difficulty stopping, and she didn’t drink from that human nearly as much as the last. The following time, she stopped on her own.
It is a relief.
My theory is that her first feeding experience being what it was, affected her deeply, and she had been creating a loop of self destruction that she couldn’t get herself out of. Being unable to control herself a second time and ending the life of someone she knew, albeit someone who deserved it, did a number on her confidence. She couldn’t restrain herself twice, so she thought she would never be able to.
With encouragement from myself and other coven members, Wren has blossomed. Sparring with Chandra and sometimes Zach helps to satisfy her physical need for exertion. I have offered to help her there, but for some reason, she insists we can’t spend eternity in bed. Now, her art satisfies her mind.
Creating from nothing.
It fits her.
I watch her breathe her kind of life into this place. She sketches different coven members, capturing them when they least expect it. When their facade is invisible, she can see the person beneath. She paints scenes of our gatherings, moments when our coven truly feels like family.
Wren has bonded with everyone in some way, shape, or form. She is ours. Our family for eternity.
I can spend all night just watching as she draws inspiration from the world around her, somehow her skilled hands know how to draw a specific curve—moving with such surety, such grace. When I’m not absorbed in watching her process, I throw myself into research. Rolando and I look up everything we can about the history of vampire changes. So far, we haven’t found a single record of another vampire failing to merge during the turn.
Strike one.
When that fails, I try to research why the mate bond telepathy would have triggered while Wren was still human.
Strike two.
