The Nightlife: New York ( The Nightlife #1)

The Nightlife: New York ( The Nightlife #1) Page 9

While doing a double take, he snapped, “You just shoved me off the roof of a building. Can I have a chance to get my head straight?” As her words penetrated his frustration, he began to warm to all the wonderful possibilities that stemmed from her blatant proposition.

After a minute of silence he back tracked, “Look, I’ll admit the roof thing was exciting and kind of fun and … I don’t even have a scratch on me so … I guess there’s no harm, no foul.”

“Does this mean we are going to have sex now?” She slipped her fingers through his hair seductively, massaging his scalp in wonderful little circles. “I promise I will not order you around … this time … Ça va?” She gave him her most innocent look while wrapping her arms around him to bring his head down to her breasts.

“Well, since you put it that way.” he mumbled into her mostly uncovered cleavage. He couldn’t say no, didn’t even want to say no. Why bother pretending? For once he was getting laid and he didn’t even have to beg for it.

They could let bygones be bygones for the moment. She wasn’t gonna force him, or so she said. But then maybe that sort of force wouldn’t be so horrible. As the saying goes, you can’t rape the willing. Michelle took control of the situation when she lashed out to bite him on the neck. He reacted without thinking. It was an instinctual thing that just happened. He wrapped around her and bit her right back.

He realized she’d been counting on it. She wasn’t the least bit surprised. He fell into a heavenly bliss of feeding and drug-like euphoria as the venom-induced ecstasy brought him to climax simultaneously with Michelle. She purred her pleasure at him, grinding her moist hot crotch all over his leg.

“Oh oui, encore! It has been such a long time since I felt this way. Only with vampires can it be so … mmm … there is nothing quite like it … is the sense de la vie!” She licked his blood from her lips and caressing his hard cock from the outer bulge of his pants.

His mind whirled with the overwhelming power of her presence and touch. He felt like a kid in a candy store. He could scarce believe his good fortune at being the object of this super model’s seductive attentions.

“You know I’m not really experienced.” It slipped from his mouth without any thought, his venom-saturated loins speaking before his brain kicked in. As the words tumbled out, he mentally ordered himself to shut-up.

“Oui. Is no problème. I will teach you everything in time. You must trust me. I know you don’t, but you have no choice.” She stated this matter-of-factly while unbuttoning his pants with quick, deft movements. The girl was an old pro.

As she undressed him, she explained, “I know how the world sees French women. They say we are sexually liberated. Oui?” He nodded slowly, uncertain where she was headed with this revelation.

“The truth, we are actually quite traditional. We like the old-fashioned courtesies. Comprends?” He nodded again, entranced as her hands undid buttons and zippers and slid his shirt off his chest.

“I expect the simple courtesies like opening doors, pulling out chairs, changing light bulbs, unplugging the nasty sink drains, answering phones to fend off telemarketers … sending flowers for no particular reason. And most important, you must give the courtesy of allowing me to orgasm first.”

“That’s the French way?” He swallowed with an audible gulp as he stepped out of his pants and underwear. He had never been naked with a woman with the lights on, it was kinda nerve-wracking.

“Oui. Classical European etiquette. This one time I will make an exception, for the purpose of our lesson.”

She gently pushed him back onto the bed and proceeded to work him by hand. She knew exactly what he wanted, how he wanted it, where he wanted it. She plucked it straight from his mind. Within moments she worked him to a back-arching explosive peak, robbing him of the ability to think or speak. This was achieved in the same impersonal manner she had adopted as his official teacher of the fine arts of vampirism.

She gave him a short minute to compose himself while cleaning her hands methodically. Then she stepped out of her dress and stood before him in nothing but the tiniest pair of black thong panties he’d ever seen. He grew rock hard all over again staring at her fabulous body. She had to be completely shaved. No way hair could hide under her minuscule fishing-line panties.

She represented every ridiculous Hollywood-inspired fantasy he could recall. He’d jerked off to far less attractive swimsuit models as a teenager.

“Oh my god, you are so beautiful.” He blurted it out like a lovesick idiot.

She worked the black string down her hips and stepped up to greet him and his swollen erection thumping against his belly.

“Now is my turn.”

She took his hand and directed his fingers down along her smooth belly to the soft mound between her legs. Her delicate folds were warm, slick, swollen, flowing over his fingertips like liquid silk. She showed him the key points of female anatomy that must be attended to and duly appreciated.

Following her lead, he learned all the sensitive erogenous zones of Michelle’s body, each touch eliciting a corresponding musical sound. She opened her psychic link, allowing him to feel all that she felt, to reinforce her instructions with her response to his hands, tongue and teeth.

“Oui, there … and here. Oui, oui! Faster, harder, don’t stop!”

He found the noises of her pleasure fascinating. She was not a quiet lover. Michelle made wonderful French music with her moans, groans, and sighs––and the occasional growl or grunt.

“Oohh … Ahhh … OH! Aiieeee … Oooff … aarrggghh … Shoosh!” Her hands gripped his wrist, humping his fingers without reservation. Her crescendo finished in a screaming orgasm of, “Oooouuiii!”

After catching her breath, she crawled over the top of him. Unsure what she had planned next, he asked, “Do you want to be on top?”

Fangs fully extended, she grinned gleaming white and licked her lips. “Bien sûr.”

Legs wide open, she impaled herself all the way down in one smooth move. Michelle was indeed an old pro. She rode him with the enthusiasm of veteran porn-stars, gliding up and down, popping and grinding her hips to get every last inch of him. Soon her pace and force reached that of hard, pounding, pelvis-crushing slams. It hurt, with her preternatural strength and vigor, but the intensity of their dual climaxes wiped away all discomfort.

Breathing heavily with a glazed smile on her face, Michelle hauled him over to the side, rolling with him. He ending up on top with her legs locked around him in a professional wrestler’s hold. She bit him for a moment allowing the magic of her venom to engorge his arousal. He grew a full size erection inside of her within seconds. Without speaking a word she instructed him in a series of motions through their psychic bond. She taught him all the different angles and methods of intimacy from this position. She showed him exactly where she wanted it, how fast, how hard, and rewarded him with little squeals and grunts as he hit her spot. Her educational series took them through another mutual mind-numbing orgasm punctuated by episodes of mutual biting. They screwed until he could take no more.

“Please … let’s give it a rest … it hurts,” he admitted sheepishly as he tried to catch his breath after the umpteenth round of sex. She surveyed his cock as it started going limp.

She rewarded him with another of her glorious smiles. “D’accord, that will do for now. We have all the time in the world for more lessons.”

In the morning just before sunrise, as they lay tangled together in bed after three hours of blood-sucking-mind-blowing sex, Michelle considered her situation. She knew he was infatuated with her. He couldn’t hide it. But he was very young, and such things are common with inexperienced men. Michelle thought it possible she might eventually develop some sentiment for him. He had a certain boyish charm, he seemed so guileless. He was not a deceptive or malicious person. Those two points alone were enough to hold her attention. Such men were a rare find in this culture of artificial personalities. He was genuine, maybe a bit too naive, but still genuine.

She had found him fresh and clean, uncontaminated by the decadence of the New York scene. Michelle assumed it was only a matter of time before these qualities she admired would dissipate. Life had a way of stripping away luxuries like innocence and naiveté. She would lose this fresh young boy eventually. She intended to fully enjoy him while it lasted. Quite a nice change from the men she normally met in her line of work.

Emotional attachment was the issue now. She couldn’t really afford to get too close to him. If he started to turn sour and violent, like her former master, she’d be forced to deal with it. She couldn’t allow her feelings to sway her judgment. She had to stay objective about killing him. For the meantime, she was willing to discount her lingering attraction to him as nothing more than the sated after-effects of great sex.

She wasn’t really willing to examine her feelings in any great depth. It seemed wiser to maintain his fear and respect, keeping strong emotions out of the equation. Sex, for her, was not complicated, especially with Aaron, who unlike the weak humans, could actually keep up with her physically in the bedroom.

However, emotional commitments were very complicated. She hoped to maintain a balance in the master/slave relationship without becoming too overbearing and avoiding emotional involvement with her slave. It would be a challenge, but she was up to the task. Michelle prided herself on her rigid self-control.

CHAPTER 7

Police Chief Schueller yelled in Detective Konowicz’s face, “I know this chic didn’t go ballistic on you two for no good reason. I know what the fuck you were doin’! Don’t lie to me!”

Konowicz spluttered, “She was on drugs, crack or meth or somethin’. I’m totally serious, Chief. She was all speeded out, a real public safety hazard!”

“You’re gonna find this girl, and I will find out the truth! If I hear you were hittin’ her up for money you’re gone. I told you last time, if another hooker files a report against you, it’s over. Not even the union will be able to save your ass.”