"It Will Have Blood, They say; Blood will have Blood" Rabastan Lestrange, loyal to tradition, charmed by wit, and has a tongue as sharp as his favorite knife
“But do you feel like a young God? You know the two of us are just young gods, and we’ll be flying through the streets with the people underneath, and they’re running, running, running.”
“Wow,” Abigail said as she climbed into the thankfully undecorated truck. No one had even guessed they’d leave so early, something she was sure she’d get an earful about from her nest, though she didn’t care. “No, my corn snake,” she said.
“S-Snake?” Rabastan eyes went wide. If had been anything else, he would have offered to let her keep it at there new house, but a snake as a pet, he gulped. “Well... I see...” He did not know what else to say. “Do all vampires have snakes?”
“An egg white omelette with cheese,” Abigail said. He wanted to be friends, great. This was why she just wanted to do lab work and not be assigned to any of the subjects. Mr. Lovegood insisted that this was not the way she would be mos successful, though she disagreed. She could tell plenty from notes and tests without actually talking to him. “What would you like for breakfast, and I’ll ask if it can be added to the menu?” she asked trying to hide the sigh in the back of her throat.
“Sounds delicious.” He smiled sweetly. and then he shrugged. “Oh - nothing that the cooks would be willing to prepare I am sure, I have simply missed Eggs Benedict, Crepes and even a decent Quiche, But I suppose being part of a scientfic study I should not have expected 5 star hotels and menus.” His smile did not fulture. “Are you annoyed with me?”
He landed at the house, and moved inside silently. They were all asleep, heart beats calm, unaware of who was inside their home. He smiled wickedly, He could kill them all right now, demand a new girl, or perhaps, keep Abigial alive, kill everyone else, and still demand a new girl, torture Abby, feed on the other, make sure she appreciates everything Rab has done. He moved from room to room, stopping on the first door. Traditionally the sons, and this.. this is where he would start. He opened the door, looking at the blonde boy, swooping next to him he considered very carefully what he should do. And as if Abraham could sense him his eyes opened. and they met, and rab moved with speed, hand around the boys neck, to stop him from screaming. “I’ll give your best to your almost bride, I’ll be taking her back to my castle as well.” He head was removed with a sick ripping sound, blood spraying everywhere, the body convulsing. Eyes rolling. And then, he was dead. Rab looked at the head in his hand, smiling. And went to find the next room.
Five time the sun rose. five times it set, and Rab did not move from his chair in the library. he did not drink, he did not eat, he did not move, he simply stopped being, and watched the way the light shifted through the curtains. He grew more angry, more depressed and more hopeful that she would come. But the mansion remained Abigail free. On the dusk of the 6th day he stood, and walked out the doors, transforming into a bat and flying his way to town. It was storming. He thought it appropriate.
Abigail was sure he meant to his house, and she didn’t want to at all. “We can stop at my place so I can feed Rose, and then we can go home,” she said resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she said it. The last thing she wanted to do was go to his place, though she new over the next week she’d be moving her stuff there. Her things would now permanently smell of dog, she was sure.
He paused, “Rose?” He cringed slightly and asked seriously. “Is that your bat?” He nodded and moved towards his truck, he remembered in movies how the car was often decorated - celebrating the new union, he was glad to see that his car remained bare.
That depended on his definition of freely, but best to keep him happy right now considering his psychological profile. “More or less yes. Though you may be getting more doses,” Abigail replied with a soft smile. This was all still mostly theoretical. They only had one success. Monitor sleep for he next three days, Tylenol PM if he continues not to sleep, she scribbled. “What about your appetite? Were you able to eat breakfast before I came in this morning?”
“Lovely.” He was annoyed now, his wrist rolling as much as it could in his chains. “I am not a breakfast person, or really a prison food person” He commented softly. “You would think a billion dollar research center might feed their employee's and test subjects slightly better. “ He paused. “What did you have for breakfast this morning?”
The truth sunk into her like a hot knife, and Abigail cast him a sidelong look. She was going to have to live with these mongrels. The rest of the dance went on and soon other couples were coming onto the dance floor. She tugged at Rabastan, as they danced until they were at the exit. She let go in a flash and zipped out the door.
She escaped, and he followed, catching his brothers, eye before leaving the hall. He nodded, understanding that they needed to leave, and not for reasons that newly weds needed. He followed his new bride out. “Shall we head home,” He asked softly, trying not to upset her.
Manipulative Abigail scribbled down on her pad just below dislikes the restraints. “I’ll make sure we get a clock for your room. The treatment effects everyone differently Mr. Lestrange, and you’ve only had your first round, so I’m afraid until we get a full work up that’s not something we can do.” She moved onto her line of questioning. “How did you sleep last night?”
“I didn’t really.” he said blinking, he needed his glasses he mused, but he did not fuss. “That would be brilliant, thank you, and after my full work up I will be able.. to move around freely.” He looked her over, trying to read her bodt language, or will I be suffering through another dose?
“Thank god,” Abigail said. Another moment of him stepping on her toes would be one too many. They were already in enough pain from being crammed into heels all day. She leaned in as if they were a happy couple, but it was just to speak softly enough that the other supernaturals couldn’t hear her. “We’ll dance until they bring everyone onto the dance floor, and then quietly escape while they are all having fun,” she whispered softly.
“I doubt the pack will be having any fun here” The words slipped out with out thought. “They will leave right after us, and the party will start at the lake.” he didn’t mention that the lake was his backyard most nights. Something she would have to live with. “But every one knows that we are not... happy, they I am sure are shocked we even made it to the party.”
“Morning,” Abigail corrected. “It’s 9 AM.” She pulled up a chair and sat down across from him. I’m going to be overseeing your progress here. I’ll work with a team, so you’ll have a nurse, Ms. Vanderhyde whom you met this morning, and a psychologist Mrs. Greengrass whom you’ll meet tomorrow. How are you doing so far?” She pulled out a note book and a pen and took down notes as he spoke.
He smiled. So many women, he thought to himself, this would be good women were typically more easy to manipulate then men, not that men were a challenge, but he did enjoy watching a women bend to his wants. “Ah yes, its hard to tell, no clocks, no windows, I’ve been up for hours.” He spoke softly kindly, and smiled. “Well, the pain has stopped, I suppose that may be a good sign.”
He decided he could see if he could push his luck. “Perhaps you can unstrap me, let me strech my legs.”
Abigail had plenty to drink, switching off blood and alcohol, and by the time Rabastan approached her, she was feeling quite a bit more personable in general. She stared at him for a moment with the question, and then recalled, yes she had just gotten married and she had to do all the things she was supposed to do. She nodded to him and took his hand before the pair walked out onto the dance floor. Everyone was looking at them as if they knew she was going to screw it all up, but she was determined not too, as much as touching him spoiled her good mood. The song was slow, and she placed one hand on his shoulder as they began to do the steps.
He didn’t know how to dance. not like this any ways. He was king of the dance floor for fast paced songs, the kind of music that was Blasted from car speakers and danced to with a solo cup in hand. This dancing, it was not his forte, so he stumbled, he stepped on her feet, and he tried his best to not feel awkward, but it was, holding her, thinking of her as his wife. “I think we can make an escape soon.”
i just one yesterday // fall out boy ii eyes on fire // blue foundation iii chopin nocturne op.55 no.1 remix // selvacier ravenhill iv who are you really // mikky ekko v gods and monsters // lana del ray vi bloodstream // stateless vii moonlight sonata [remix] // solarfist viii cold // aqualung & lucy schwartz ix bread and water // sheila nicholls x can’t pretend // tom odell xi breathe me // sia xii heavy in your arms // florence and the machine xiii crazy in love // beyonce xiv i walk the line // halsey
The first subject had gone well, and the target was to have a dozen more complete by the end of first quarter. They would have the dark winter to work though, and that suited the secrecy of their experiments well. Though there was a relative success to their first one, Abigail was sure they could improve upon the process, and her insights were what got her a flight straight to the Alaska lab and assigned to one of the subjects.
She flipped through his chart while she watched him through the two way mirror. Rabastan Lestrange, subject number 6, and ex-con who signed up for project hawk to get out of life in prison. His physical health was impeccable, but mentally there was something left to be desired. His chart noted psychotic tendencies, delusions of grandeur, and recommended a diagnosis psychopath. Abigail shrugged it off. She wasn’t a psychologist. She was a geneticist, and what soldiers weren’t a little crazy? He was just already there.
She placed the chart back into its slot, and swiped her key card against the black square door lock. “Good morning Mr. Lestrange, I’m Dr. Nott,” she said.
It had not been pleasant. The transformation, the fusion of unnatural powers mixing with his body, he had blacked most of the last few days out, the only thing keeping him sane - it was this or death. And the choice was simple, powers to rule the world, to be greater then his brother, and stronger then his friends. Or death for a foolish mistake.
But He could not help but think perhaps death would have been better around the 14th hour of fire. he came to tied to a bed with leather straps in a white hospital wall, withe a giant mirror. He could feel them watching. Rabastan let the hum of the silence surround him, his did not know the day, or the time, but he did know with everything inside of him, he did not want to be tied down. He was not a zoo animal, placed there for there entertainment, he thought it would be a few pokes, some testing but not this. He would find a way to escape soon, but inpatients, annoyance and anger made it impossible to keep a steady head. the door opened and a blonde in a lab coat came through the doors, her high pitched voice making him want to cringe.
He wanted to yell and scream and ring her pretty neck, tear her in two and use what ever powers they had given him and escape. but instead he remained silent for a second before smiling, a plan in his head. “Good... afternoon?” He asked it in the form of a question.
She was beautiful. Long dark hair, heavy eyes that looked over him, they were gleeful, full of laughter. It echoed off the walls, her laughter, surrounding him as if there was no escape - and he knew at that moment there wasn’t. It was agony. “Aw spiderling,” it said in a heavy accent and glee in the voice. “You can take it,” She was looking over him, “Stop crying so loud, and maybe I will let you see the sun.” There was mocking in her voice as the pain started again and he was screaming, almost as loud as the laughing.
--
They hadn’t had to go to Pettigrew, so it didn’t seem like they had been gone that long. Abigail insisted on holding the potion tightly in her lap while Igor manned the horses of the cart. When they arrived back Abigail was straight to the library where they had left him, too quick for Igor to caution her. She was running, down the stone hallway until she was out of breath. She burst into the room to see a sweating, weak Rabastan, eyes wide with terror. “Rabastan, we got the antidote! Rabastan?”
--
“NO!” He was yelling once again, his body twisting in agony as if he were on fire, he just wanted it to stop he just wanted the pain to leave and to be left in the dark - for everything to fall over him, for death to take him from her grasp. “No… I can’t, don’t make me please,” He was begging now, his throat burning, for relief, he could smell it. “I don’t… don’t make me…” He was screaming at his sire, who he saw before him. “I want to die!”
--
Abigail’s eyes grew wide with horror. She ran her hand through her hair only to be reminded that it was now gone. She trembled, and in that moment Igor raced up behind her. “Give me that,” he said wrenching the bottle from her hand and stuffing it into his pocket. “Love you won’t want to see this,” he said, but she couldn’t move. Her hands still held the shape of the vial as she watched him. He procured a length of rope he wore, and unknown to her it was laced with stems of vervain. He formed a lasso and began to loop it around Rabastan to hold his arms to his sides. The only thing that was clear is that Igor had done this before.
--
It burned, the whole world burned, he could smell the rotting flesh, but he could not stop the monster, he lunged, towards the sweet smelling blood, he had to have it, he did not care if it turned him, if it cursed him, he had to taste it, taste her. His teeth were snapping and his throat growling. He could not move his arms. “Let me… Thirsty!” Was what he cried, “Mistress let me have it!” He was begging the invisible women. and then he felt something in his mouth. It tasted sour.
--
Abigail couldn’t look away. She had to see every moment of Igor wrestling Rabastan into submission while he writhed and screamed, and shouted at specters. She watched him uncork the bottle with his teeth and shove the thing down Rabastan’s throat. How he came away without a bite she could say, only every movement was fluid, intuitive. She fell to her knees, paralyzed by wonder and fright. What had she done?
--
It did not quench the thirst, but it calmed the burn and his teeth was snapping, looking for flesh and laughter faded and it took the burn with it, his screaming stopped and soon the only thing he could hear was his own breathing, his eyes closed as he came too, remembered what happened. His eyes flew open - moving so that he could see her, his girl. He was breathing heavy and looked at her, she had her hair cut. “Which one touched you.”
--
Abigail watched his body go limp. Igor laid him down, untied him and gathered up the vial as if it was pure muscle memory. She couldn’t bring herself from the floor until she saw him twitch and groan. She sighed in strange relief, and she began to rise. By the time she did he was before her as a flash of lightning. She wanted to marvel at his recovery, and she had so many curious questions for him. “They took my blood and my hair for payment,” she said, reaching her hand back to touch the wisps that were left. “It’s alright. It’ll grow back,” she said, but it wasn’t alright. By the time her year was up, it wouldn’t be as long as it had been before. Tears started forming in her eyes.
--
Rabastan searched her face and looked down to the scar and his face tightened. “I should rip out one of their hearts and turn the other - make them suffer,” he said it aloud - and he wondered if he was asking for her permission. He turned to Igor, “Bring me a whore… I need to feed.” He turned back to Abby. “Would you prefer to have a wig?”
--
Igor cast Rabastan a quick nod. His job in that room was done, and so he left. Abigail hardly saw him go, her gaze locked onto her master’s. “I don’t mind it,” she said. Her voice began to tremble as she spoke. “Is it okay? Does it look okay? I was thinking I can ask Gemini to clean it up, clip the stray hairs in the back,” she said beginning to ramble.
--
He nodded, and moved to run a hand through it - it was much shorter than he liked, but he did not mind. He just wanted her to not cry, to not be sad. She sacrificed blood for him - willingly and hair… that was more than he ever thought she would. It made him curious. “If you like it, then it’s fine. You could ask and see if she knows any growth potions or oils, if you want to grow it back that is.”
--
Abigail brightened at the thought of it possibly growing back before she died. She brushed the tears from her eyes, and nodded. She tried to smile. He was being terribly sweet, so she shouldn’t be sad. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll ask.” She placed her hand over his carefully, and finally managed a real smile. “Are you okay?” she asked.
--
She was smiling and that made Rab’s mouth pull at the edges, and then fall again with her question. Was he okay? He didn’t feel pain any more, the anger had passed, and the return of bland had set in - only this time - it seemed there was a small spark when ever he looked at the blonde. He wondered what he face would look like painted into a canvas. “I do not remember what I was seeing, I apologize for anything i said or did while I was… out of control."
--
Abigail shook her head. "It's fine. I just stood there. Igor did everything," she said. She knew she should feel more than what she did. She should be forlorn that she missed her chance to escape, but strangely she didn't care. "I'm glad you're okay."
--
“I’m thirsty,” He commented, a part of him hoping she would volunteer herself. but then he remembered she had given enough blood for him for the night - for the week. So his eyes moved from her neck to the door. Igor was most likely running to the brothel to pay for one, they would be back in an hour, “But other then that I will survive.”
--
Abigail lifted her wrist. She was none too aware of the blood loss before, only the two of them and their emotional well being. He was safe, and she was safe, and things could go back to what has become her new normal.
--
“Right, well….” He took a step back. “thank you for saving my life.”
--
What was he doing? She was offering her wrist, and he was stepping back her face fell, gaze slipping down to her feet. Her arm dropped. She shook her head. "You saved mine," she said. What choice did she have?
--
He knew he should but he couldn't help but think that it would scare her away. But then she dropped it, and he wanted her to offer it again. “I just… You deserve a break - You have lost a lot of blood, I thought you would appreciate a night off.”
--
"Oh," Abigail said. She had lost a lot of blood. She should probably worry about herself instead of worrying about him. She blinked up at him as she contemplated what she should do. "I think it'll be alright if I eat something," she offered. She felt a tug towards him. She was supposed to feed him, and now they had protected each other's lives. Something deeper was beginning to happen. Possibilities we're opening.
--
He took her hand, but instead of moving to place his mouth on her wrist he moved towards the door, he lead her into the kitchens where Gem was cooking. She jumped. “Hello sir! I... “ She cut off when she saw Abby and smiled. “Dinner?” She asked softly, I have something still warm over by the fire. Rabastan nodded. “You do not have to at it all.” He told Abby, “Just eat something.”
--
Abigail smiled as they walked towards the kitchen. She wondered if that meant afterwards they were going to have some time together. She surprised herself for wanting it, and silently chastised herself for giving into her body's desires. She nodded at him, and in the moment of hearing his voice talked herself back into having him feed on her. He would be hungry too after all. She sat down at the counter as Gemini passed her a plate of squash casserole. Abigail began to happily dig in. “Thank you,” she said, and she saw the witch eyeing her hair. “It’s okay,” she said. “But maybe you could help me even it out?” she asked.
--
Gemini nodded, and smiled, I can make an oil if you want, all you would have to do is put it on your hair and it would grow faster - you could have it all back in a couple weeks.” Gemini asked and Rab pursed his lips. “Perhaps tomorrow,” He said pointedly to the witch “After we have had some rest,” He wanted her to leave them be, let Abby eat.
--
Abigail almost replied to Gemini, but Rabastan’s words silenced her. She continued to eat as quickly as she could. She did need rest, and was sure he did as well. It would be an early night. She was sure she wouldn’t see the sun before she fell asleep. Gemini eventually went about her business in the kitchen, and Abigail didn’t speak again until her plate was cleared. “I do feel better now,” she said softly.
--
He smiled watching her eat and then he stood up. “I’m glad to hear that.” There was a pause, his own hunger driving him but at the same time knew he had to be gentle, did not wish to scare her, did not want her to change her mind. Her blood tasted so much better than a whore’s, and the way she moved in pleasures, the sounds she made got him more riled up than those trained. Rabastan nodded. “To bed?”
--
Abigail sighed in relief. “Thank you Gemini,” she said as they left the kitchen. She almost expected him to send her off to her own room, and to take the prostitute he’d asked Igor to fetch. She could hardly believe her luck that hadn’t come to pass, and so they walked up the stairs to the bedchambers. She found her hand slipping carefully into his.
--
Rabastan grinned, so much had changed - perhaps he should have saved her life sooner, he lead them to his room, there were candles lit but even there light did not go far into the darkness, he pulled her towards the bed. “Do you have a request as to wear I bite you?” He asked, “I know it feels different in different places.”
--
Abigail felt shivers run down her spine. He was not only being so kind to her, but asking her preference. No one did that. She almost didn’t know what to say. Sure that she looked so awkward standing there with no answer, she finally stammered out an answer. “The neck,” she said with a forced smile.
--
She seemed to have an internal debate, and Rabastan nearly regretted asking the question, but then her answer made him smile. The neck was a fantastic choice. He moved them to the bed, so that they both sat upon it. His hand went to her neck, missing her hair because how he enjoyed sweeping it away, but he moved slowly, his nose touching her skin and trailing it along her neck, his head turning and he opened his mouth and sunk his fangs into her vein.
--
Abigail felt his hands upon her, and she turned her body towards him, knees knocking against his. She closed her eyes, and her hands gripped the blankets underneath them. He was gentle, slowly, and she felt her heart flutter. Sensations washed over her body as the drug in his saliva slipped into her veins. She whimpered softly, and one hand left the bed to instead be placed atop his thigh.
--
Rabastan tasted the blood and it took everything in him to not go wild, he wanted to take his time, and perhaps now was not the best time for it, but he would feed more heavily on the whore later, for her he drank slowly, letting her feel the pleasure, he traced his hand down her back down her sides, exploring her. Her hummed as her hand found his thigh, he felt his cock twitch in excitement, mixed with the taste of her. He wondered briefly, if he could make her cum just like this, and if she did, perhaps she would return the favor.
--
He had never drank for this long before, nor this slowly. She thought for a moment she might melt into the bed. She squeezed her thighs together, as something stirred between her legs. She pushed away the little voice that told her she was sinning, and climbed into his lap. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders. What did it matter? No one else was there to judge her.
--
Suddenly she was on his lap and that surprised him, he never expected her to be so forward. All he did was pull her closer, the bulge in his pants growing as she squirmed and moved atop him and a hand went down to her thigh so that he was sure she was wrapped around him tightly as he pushed her back onto the bed, moving his body against her, still fully clothed.
--
Warm wave after warm wave passed through her body. Her jaw slacked, mouth falling open into a pant. Her legs squirmed as she lay underneath him. She felt the tightening of her abdomen as she had the night his fingers were there. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding his body down close onto her. “Rab,” she whimpered into his ear.
--
He felt his hips move of their own accord. thrusting against her and he very much wished they were not wearing so many layers, he could usually control himself, but not when she was whimpering, begging, moaning. He pulled her as close as she could possibly be, his hand sneaking up her skirt feeling the bare skin there, how warm she was.
--
Abigail felt him thrusting against her, and if she wasn’t so far gone, so close on her own she might have stopped to ask questions, to worry, to analyze what was going on. Though in this state all she wanted was to make him happy. Her whimpering got quiet, shifting to soft moans. She squeezed her thighs, wetness dripping down her legs underneath her skirt. Sweat beaded up on what parts of her skin were exposed. She felt throbbing, and then contractions, and then soft fluttering. “Rab,” she whispered again.
--
He felt her body let go, and so his teeth left the side of her neck and he smiled, healing the bite her moved to kiss the side of her neck, and then her jaw line. He smiled, the way her body was moving and pleading. He paused, and then grabbed her hand to slip it between their bodies, placing it over the bulge. “Dear Lord, you are so beautiful,” He whispered in her ear, “You can’t even imagine what you do to me.”
--
It was quite easy to imagine what she did to him. Her hand was on it. Everything was a haze after her orgasm. The only thing in her field of vision was him, and so she began to palm at his hard cock. His length was held against his stomach by tight clothing that her hand ran over and over, up and down. “That felt amazing,” she said when words finally came back to her.
--
She was exploring, and he smiled, his eyes closed at the feel of her hand on him. Rabastan smiled, so many things had changed in such a short couple weeks. He breathed against her ear, shaky slightly at her movements. “Good,” he said, his hand let her’s go. “Giving is just as fun as receiving, do you want to try?”
--
“Okay,” Abigail said tentatively. “What do I do?” Her hand was still stroking up and down, palming at what was underneath his clothing. She wondered what all of this meant. Was still still virtuous? Could she still even call herself a Christian? She was enjoying herself with a demon, and that was it. She was enjoying herself.
--
The grin on Rabastan’s face was dark, and his eyes sparkled, oh how enjoyed corrupting her. She knew nothing, fresh snow, and now, now he was convincing her to do all those things against her faith and what she was taught. “Untie my pants, and pull them down.” He whispered softly.
--
Abigail’s other hand joined the first, and she began to unfasten his breeches. She pushed them down as far as her arms could reach, revealing his undergarments, and his cock tented beneath them. His body was still on top of hers, and she found herself enjoying looking up at him like that. Her hands brushed against his length as she began to pull down his underwear. “These too?” she asked.
--
He hissed softly and the feel of her hand, his eyes scanning her face, and he smiled. “Yes. Those too,” he studied her face, watching her reactions, she seemed so shy, but also something behind those eyes, he used his hands to hold up his body weight, so that she was free to explore.
--
Abigail pulled his underwear down until his length sprang out. Her hand wrapped around the base of it and she began to stroke it up and down. It was soft and smooth, yes hard as well. She wasn’t sure what she expected it to feel like, but it was sort of pleasant. She looked up at him, and watched him staring back at her with lust blown eyes.
--
Her hand wrapped around him and he smiled, she felt so warm against him, her blood was running through her veins and her heart beating so fast that it made it all that more erotic. “It will be easier if you wet your palm, with your mouth or…” He trialed of and let her decide.
--
The idea of spitting into her hand sounded gross, however so did a lot of the things they had been doing that felt amazing. So she pulled her hand away and spat into her palm before returning it down to his length. Her hand slipped easily from the base to the tip, fingers trailing over the head. She watched him, and smiled slightly. It was fun giving as well, seeing him happy.
--
He hummed and felt her hand wrap around him once more, making their slow movements up and down his member, he enjoyed the movement but whispered. “Faster,” His breathing picking up and his smile never fading. “And you can squeeze a little tighter as well.”
--
“Okay,” Abigail said. She squeezed her hand down on him and pumped him from her elbow, quickly up and down. Her lips parted as she began to breathe through her mouth. She found herself wanting him to come undone as she had. They deserved to feel good after today.
--
He was breathing loud now, panting, his hips moving to meet hers, slightly fast, her eyes falling closed, and something like a growl coming from the back of his throat, enjoying her touch and corruption, he focused on what she was doing, on what he had manipulated her to do, and he felt the tightening in his gut, the signs that he was about to be pushed over the edge, his hips spasmed and her came into her hand, panting and grunting.
--
Abigail watched him with rapt attention. She had never seen this before, only heard stories, and seeing him up close was an experience she wanted again. Suddenly he was grunting and her hand was wet. She didn’t know what to do with it, so she kept pumping his length, and let the stuff coat the midsection of her dress.
--
“Fuck.” Rabastan cursed, perhaps slightly harsher than he meant to, his breathing uneven. his hand going to hers so move it away from his member, now sensitive. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. His eyes closed, and his body weight laying more on her. “That was fantastic,” he whispered to her softly.
--
Abigail let go as he pulled her hand away. She wanted to wipe it off, but there was nothing around seemingly to do that with. She ended up wrapping her arms around him, and letting her sticky hand press against the back of his clothes. He’d shown no care for clothing after all. He’d simply get new ones if he needed to. She smiled at his words, and relaxed down into the bed. She returned the kiss with one to his cheek as well. “Do you need more blood?” she asked.
--
Rabastan sat up, his hands going to his shirt that he started to take off, he felt that he should settle in for the night and the shirt smelled of werewolf, and then he looked at her shocked. “Are you offering?” He was curious pulling up his underwear and leaning back down over her. “because if so, then yous should take off your dress” he kissed her jaw.
--
“I’ll go to sleep after, so I think I can handle a little more,” Abigail said. She actually welcomed the opportunity to take off her dress, but being nude may be too far. “May I change into a nightgown?” she offered as an alternative. She knew there were many in her wardrobe.
--
He wanted to say no, wanted her bare and in front of him, but he knew that was asking too much and denying her would ruin the mood there were in. “I suppose, but come back quick,” He demanded and kissed the top of her forehead rolling off her so she was free to go.
--
Abigail smiled and quickly left the room. She couldn’t get the ruined dress off quickly enough. She wiped her hands on it, and placed it over a chair to be laundered the next day. She changed into a long silky nightgown, and hurried back to his room. She returned and climbed quickly into bed where it was warm. She snuggled up against him. “Was that quick enough?” she asked.
--
He had closed his eyes and let the memories that had been dragged up to try to fade. That he had to remember his sire had left, and he was safe, the wolves would be disposed of shortly, and he was not dying. He felt the bed move, and he smiled as she snuggled against him, the cool silk against his body felt good, and he turned his face and looked at her, they were nose to nose and he smiled. “Yes, that was, now where were we?” he wanted to hear her ask him to bite her again.
--
Abigail flushed pink and giggled lightly. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she pulled her body in close to his. “You were on top of me,” she said slowly, quietly. It was too embarrassing to go above a whisper. “And you weren’t full yet,” she mumbled.
--
He hummed and rolled so that he was over her, his body not touching hers, smiling down at the girl beneath him. “Like this?” He whispered, matching her tone, and then he slowly moved so there bodies were touching his head going to the side of her neck. “I can hear it rushing through your veins, are you excited?”
--
“Yes,” Abigail said still whispering. She was sure her face was as red as a poppy. “This is embarrassing. Just do it,” she said with a giggle. Her hands were behind his shoulders, fingers trembling, and pressing into his skin. She turned her head to the side so he had better access to the soft skin of her neck.
--
“Embarrassing?” He asked softly, and kissed the spot where he was planning on biting. “Interesting.” And then he bit, drinking faster than the last time, enjoying the taste of her, it was sweeter after orgasam, and he wondered, just out of curiosity how different it would be if he took her innocence.
--
Abigail almost asked him what he meant by interesting, but didn’t get a chance to. His teeth sunk in and that pleasant feeling washed over her. It felt completely different post orgasm, and she found herself enjoying it even more than she did the build up. Her body was warm and content, and she felt her muscles begin to tighten all over again.
--
His hand slipped up her nightgown and felt her soft skin, his eyes closing, as he enjoyed the touch of her, the warmth that seemed to warm him inside out. His hand slipped farther and farther until he reached her underwear. He pulled away, knowing she would be losing too much blood. “Can I make you feel good again?” he whispered softly.
--
Abigail was left a panting mess. Her eyes blinked, trying to focus on him while he pulled away. Why was he stopping? She whimpered as she tried to process what he was saying, and then she slowly nodded. “I’m still a virgin, since the potion worked,” she murmured.
--
Rabastan smiled and his hands moved and pulled down her underwear. “I told you you would be” He whispered and then smirked. “How about I do something better, but I promise you will still be a virgin.” His hand moved slowly down to her center.
--
“Okay,” Abigail agreed. She lay beneath him, his hand underneath her clothing, but between the orgasm and his continuing to feed on her she was in too much bliss to argue with anything. Her hands trailed along his jawline, and she noticed just how handsome he actually was. In that moment she could hardly believe some of the monstrous things he had done, and some that he would do.
--
He smiled and moved down, tossing her skirt up and pulling down her underwear off, her center glistening, and he smiled, he moved so that he was laying on his stomach, opening her legs, his arms wrapped around her legs and pulling her closer, his thumb brushing against her clit and his lips placing them against her slit, easing her into it.
--
Abigail watched him curiously for a moment. He was getting into the strangest position, and then putting his mouth between her legs. “W-what are…” she tried to ask, but words failed her as her mouth fell open. His lips were so soft on her folds, and she panted. It was more than his fingers did before, and quite different than the sensation of him drinking from her, though it stirred the same core deep inside of her.
--
He felt his lips tug up and his tongue peaked out from his lips and licked up the slit of her center, his thumb placing slightly more pressure against her clit, she tasted divine, he wondered for a moment as to what tasted better, his juices or her blood. He moved his tongue up, moving his thumb and liking her clit.
--
Abigail moaned, and spread her legs to give him more space between them. Her hands gripped the blankets that covered the bed, and she felt the skirt of her gown bunch up underneath her, but she didn’t care. Everything his mouth was doing made her body crave more. Her head fell back against the pillows, and she closed her eyes. “Rab,” she whimpered.
--
Rabstan moved his tongue expertly against her, his hands going to her hips and moving her closer, his eyes examining her face and they way her body reacted beneath his mouth. He trailed one of his hands up her body and grasped one of her breasts, massaging it through her clothing.
--
Abigail writhed underneath him, hips rolling up into his mouth. His tongue on her felt better than his fingers alone, and she couldn't stop whimpering. That was until she felt the tightness forming again in her gut. "Don't stop," she whispered.
--
His hand snuck in the neckline of her nightgown, his finger trailing over her breast and to her nipple, his tongue focused on her clit, working faster and faster. And then his fingers pinched her nipple softly, his mouth letting out a hum, encouraging her to the edge and over it.
--
Abigail's whimpers fell soft and her body tightened. Her stomach clenched and her thighs trembled. Her body feel over the edge, contractions clenching against his mouth. Her lips parted and she breathed deeply. "Rab," she whimpered at the end of her orgasm.
--
Rabastan pulled away as she came and bit the side of her thigh, just for a sip of the orgasm flooded blood. It was sweet, and rich, moving fast into his mouth and tasting her, he healed the wounded and climbed up her body rolling over and pulling her so that she was lying on top of him. “Papillon.” He whispered.
--
Abigail's arms wrapped around him as she breathed heavily. Her chest pressed against his underneath her, and her head fell against his shoulder. "Thank you," she said, and she would have been surprised if her mind wasn't completely clouded by a post orgasm haze.
--
“No need to thank, you showed me appreciation already.” He smiled his hand trailing up her back and placing them, breathing in. “Sleep here tonight,” it was not a question, but if she said no, he would let her leave.
--
Abigail nodded against his skin. She couldn't imagine making it back to her room. She slipped her body off of him and got comfortable. Her head laid against his chest, and she pulled her nightgown back down. "I'm glad you're okay," she said for the second time that day.
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