Creative Workshop

A meeting place for artists, photographers and writers
 
HomeHome  FAQFAQ  SearchSearch  RegisterRegister  Log inLog in  

Share | 
 

 Red's Robin Vampire Memoirs book 1 by Nicola Ormerod

Go down 
AuthorMessage
nicola ormerod



Posts : 1
Join date : 2010-02-03
Age : 38
Location : aberdeen uk

PostSubject: Red's Robin Vampire Memoirs book 1 by Nicola Ormerod   Wed Feb 03, 2010 2:28 am

This is my first stab at being an author. My first book, its cost me a small bloody fortune but fingers crossed it gets me somewhere in the end.
Be warned this is a bit saucy!



Chapter 1




Some people would have labelled me a whore, some people would have said I was liberated and others would’ve said that I was just plain stupid, but I can’t help it if I have a high sex drive. I also have the attention span of a gold fish. There lies my problem. I’d find a cute guy, I’d hump the ass off him for a couple of weeks, get bored and move on. Shit, men live their entire lives in this fashion. Hugh damn Hefner has a whole fucking harem going on in his mansion and he’s a hero for Christ’s sake, so what the hell was her problem? I’m getting ahead of myself here and I should really explain why I was in such a foul mood.

The woman in question is my mother and on that particular day I’d gone for my monthly visit to see her and I’d received a lengthy lecture about how many men I went through and how I should be settling down and making babies. I hate babies, and they in return hate me. It’s a mutual thing and I’m quite happy with it.

We ended up arguing big time. She liked reminding me that I’m pushing thirty (twenty-six actually), and I can drink sailors under the table, not like that has ever happened. She also hated that I was pretty enough to be a successful model but at the same time I’m so unladylike and at times a little uncouth.

My mother and I never used to get on, just never clicked. She was pretty young when she had me, just sixteen. My father, she told me once, was a good-looking charmer who was all for the baby thing, until I arrived that is. A couple of days after I was born he ran away with another girl who was fourteen and yes, pregnant with his baby. He took along with him my mothers dreams of marriage and a ‘happily ever after’. She, despite everything, loved him and she probably still does. She waited years for him to come skulking back but he never did. He could have died for all she knew, he just disappeared off the face of the earth. For whatever reason, I’ve no idea; she never fell in love again. She never let anyone else in, not even me, and I think deep down a part of her kind of blamed me for him running away. We never loved each other like a mother and daughter should. Up until very recently ours has been more a relationship of duty than love to be completely honest. I haven’t had an abusive childhood and I can’t ever remember going hungry but I just never got the love vibes from her. I used to think she should have given me up for adoption the day my father ran away.

Still, she lived in hope that I’d find a rich husband, get married and have kids. That’d make her proud, in her eyes that would make me a good daughter. The sad thing is she would probably have made a good grandma. She seems to want the life she was denied through me. God it used to annoy the hell out of me because I liked to cut loose when I wasn’t trudging from shoot to shoot in the pouring rain or the freezing cold. A lot of her ways and mannerisms have definitely rubbed off on to me because I used to absolutely hate my personal life being invaded; I never liked guys getting too close, too clingy, it was best to keep everyone and everything at a distance. No one can hurt you when you don’t get too attached. Like every red-blooded woman though, I had wants and needs. That’s the bit my mother seriously didn’t get. She’s lived like a nun for so many years she must be a virgin again by now. I, on the other hand love sex and it’s at the top of my list of fun things to do. I decided who and when I did it with and when I got bored they were never too unhappy when they were given the boot. It upset her that I was often the object of gossip on the grape vine and in the occasional magazine.

“No man will want to marry you if they think you’ve been round the block,” was one of her favourite quotes. If only she knew the extent of it. I used to have a little black book, it was actually black funnily enough, and in it were a bunch of guys’ numbers. If I was having a slow month there were plenty in there that were more than happy to drop what they were doing and oblige me. I had the ideal life, or I thought I did. I never felt lonely and I had a wardrobe full of expensive designer clothes. She should have been congratulating me on being an independent woman not wanting me tied to a kitchen sink with a dozen brats biting my ankles. She used to get me so fucking annoyed sometimes.

That wasn’t the first time my mother and I had fallen out, it was a regular occurrence. Most visits ended with me leaving in a pissed off mood. I would wonder if I’d been too harsh on her, then think No, fuck it, andI’d just be pissed off again. Eventually guilt would win me over and I would call round a week or so later bearing a gift of jewellery or flowers, depending on my income at the time.

I tried my best to push it to the back of my mind and focus on better things. My best friend Danni had called me that day asking me to go out. At the time I couldn’t be arsed to but after my visit to my mothers I was well up for it. There was a new club opening and she wanted me to go along. I was just in the mood and I hadn’t been laid for like two weeks, it seemed like forever.



Two, OK three, hours later I’d slipped into a little black number and new pair of Jimmy Choo shoes that I’d treated myself to the previous week (£705 and worth every penny). I looked in the mirror and I liked what I saw. My lovely long mane of hair was GHD’d to perfection. My eyes were dusted with smoky brown eye shadow and my complexion was even and blemish free. My very expensive fake tan was looking fab too. I ran my hands over my hips enjoying the expensive feel of my gorgeous dress. I rarely do high street, I’m a designer girl all the way! It’s probably why I never had any money in the bank; I always had my eyes on the next prize! I’d by then long forgotten about my mother and was far more focused on looking great and having a good time.

Don’t hate me, but I am just one of those girls who are beautiful. I’d go the whole hog and say I was slightly shallow. Beauty does not come easy or cheaply, so I wore my shallowness with pride. I looked after myself, well, I had to. As a model, the industry is pretty brutal to begin with but I’m five foot two and, believe me, I had to work twice as hard as all those naturally tall bitches. People are under the impression that models earn a fortune but by the time you pay for all the shit you need to look good there isn’t much left. I never quite made it to the catwalk but if you are willing to work hard enough then a shorter model like me can make a comfortable living.

There’s a lot I had to sacrifice though. I hardly ever indulged in junk food because just the mere hint of a spot or an extra microgram of fat could mean the difference between you getting the job and the dizzy blonde next to you getting it instead. I pounded the gym four times a week; I did yoga and kick boxing too, to keep my body in pristine condition. I did try not to be too big headed about being pretty but it’s hard, being bitchy, shallow and diva-like goes with the whole model persona, it sort of creeps up on you like mould. At school I was butt ugly and I was a nice person. When I blossomed the boys suddenly looked my way and the girls lips curled. As time went on, I hardened my heart against it and its part of the reason I was the way I was.



Danni met me at my house with a bottle of expensive wine to set us on our way. Danni is an old friend I went to school with. I can safely say she is the only girl I really truly like because regular, run of the mill girls tended to hate our type.

She is every bit as shallow as me except she doesn’t sleep around. She finds herself a nice rich guy and milks him for all she can, literally! I did like rich guys, don’t get me wrong. If they wanted to buy me expensive stuff or give me a credit card for my personal use I wasn’t going to complain, but I would rather have had a quality shag than have to worry about how much a guy earned. I couldn’t stand to be with someone if they weren’t up to scratch in the cock and bedroom department.

Danni was also a model but more of a part time one really, she used to be a personal assistant until I got her into modelling and she loved it, but gold digging was her number one occupation. I’m not kidding, she used the model front to bag herself a potential millionaire and then went months without working and was quite happy. I liked my independence and never brushed off a job for a bloke no matter how good he was in bed.

Anyway, we ordered a cab so we could both drink. Danni told me she just split up with her latest and longest conquest, a forty-five year-old married multi-millionaire who she was dating for eight long months. He wasn’t a particularly pretty sight and she said he was hung like a five year-old, but he loaned her a Lamborghini, the lucky bitch. She gave him a blowjob whenever he desired and told him he was the best lover she ever had. I introduced her to the Rampant Rabbit, which she said was the only reason she was able to stick it for so long. He’d get jollies then she would leave the room for a good half hour appointment with Ann Summer’s finest. Seriously, no other toy comes close. Every woman should have one. The first time I tried the Rabbit I thought I’d never need a man again, well, for at least a week.



















Chapter 2




The club was in full swing when we arrived and Danni had bagged some VIP tickets. We sauntered past the great long queue like we owned the fucking place. Inside was awesome. Dark and almost gothic, or is it Emo nowadays? Everything was black and purple: black leather seats and purple suede walls. The lights were low and the bar was heaving. A famous blonde supermodel waved at me from the far corner of the VIP lounge. We’d had a ‘thing’ a couple of times in the past, so I made a mental note that she was there in case there were no decent blokes (I swing both ways but ultimately it’s all about the cock for me).

We ordered a bottle of champagne from a topless barman who was, to be fair, rather tasty, then we found the rest of our crew. I loved hanging out with our gang. Three gay guys, me, Danni and Cutie. Cutie was a former gay guy and was still at the stage of telling us how wonderful her new vagina was. I didn’t need to see a photo of the damn thing; she had already described every millimetre of it. The drunker she got the more vulgar and explicit the details got, it was hilarious.

Our little group was fantastic and it worked because Danni and I were the only real girls in it. You see, another thing about us shallow model types is a gay man is a must have accessory. Gay guys are our best friends. They tell us when we look a fucking state and they hold our hair while we vomit. They have to be the good looking, over the top gay guys as well. You know the type, they scream at the top of their lungs when they get excited. They are usually really hot, and girls always completely fall in love with them thinking they can turn them. I slept with one once. They wouldn’t know where a clitoris was even if they had Sat-Nav to lead them there. The good thing about them is they are always honest, sometimes brutally, but you know where you stand with them. Of course, if I wasn’t a model earning decent bucks none of our group would have been interested in hanging around with me apart from Danni, but that’s the industry I was in. When you’re hot, you’re hot. When you’re not, fuck off.

As models, we in turn introduce them to gays and bisexual rich guys through our various contacts. You’d be surprised at the amount of straight married men who like to put on ladies pants and tights and have unspeakable things done to them. Then they go home to their wives and children and their boring mundane jobs and no one is any the wiser. Politicians are beyond a doubt amongst the worst.

We quickly finished off our first bottle of champagne. The VIP area was a hive of activity so I decided to go to the bar myself. I headed for the loo first where the famous blonde supermodel was snorting cocaine. We chatted for a couple of minutes catching up; she offered me a line. “I’m sorted,” I told her. I never touch drugs but at the same time, I don’t want to be seen as un-cool. I know that’s really horrible, but its reality. Almost everyone you see in magazines is taking drugs of some description and you don’t want to be singled out. I gave my hair the once over with the GHDs sitting on the side and tipped the bathroom attendant with a tenner. On my way back to the bar I passed by the balcony overlooking the bit of the club for non VIP’s.



Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I got the distinct feeling that someone was watching me. What the…?

I looked down to the bar below. It was crowded and I couldn’t tell what had my hackles up. Maybe it was someone I knew. I looked harder, scanned the crowd meticulously. Everyone was pushing and queuing to get to the bar and away again, a sea of unknown faces.

Then I spotted him. I didn’t know him, I’d never seen him before in my life, but every cell in my body wanted him. He was staring back at me as everyone moved around him. His eyes pierced me in a way which I’d never felt before, and I have never been one for corny shit. He cocked his head ever so slightly and smiled at me. I actually felt my legs go weak and my head started to spin. My vision went out of focus so I shook my head to clear my thoughts and when I looked back, he’d gone. I frowned in disappointment and ran my eyes over every inch of the crowd to search for him. I couldn’t see him anywhere. I wanted to remember what he looked like so even though I must’ve looked like a complete tit, I stood there and closed my eyes so I could mentally picture him.

Long, dark brown hair tied up, tight white sleeveless t-shirt, chiselled features and from what I could gather well toned muscles. His face was like the face of a god. To top it all off he looked tall. I love tall men. Even though I call the shots in the bedroom I like to feel towered over when it comes to my men. The taller the better and that guy was at least a head above everyone at the club. He was exactly the type I usually go for but hell, I’ve never wanted anyone like that before. I opened my eyes and tried again to find him in the crowd but to no avail. Damn it. I stomped to the bar, ordered my champagne and returned to the table so I could tell the gang about the hot guy I just saw. I had just taken my seat and opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. That was because the hot guy was now stood in the door way of the VIP lounge. He was now wearing a long leather jacket over his t-shirt and looked every bit as gorgeous. He motioned with a flick of his head for me to follow him and I got up. My friends asked me what I was doing. I ignored them. I’m not normally as bitchy as that but I just had to have him, right then, right there; I’d explain my reasons to them later. All I wanted was to feel his hands on my body, everywhere.

I was burning for him and I wanted him to do unspeakable things that would make even me blush. It didn’t even feel strange, the desire, like it was natural and meant to be.

Before I knew it we were outside the club and he had me slammed roughly up against the wall in the alleyway. As his body pressed into mine my head spun and I couldn’t focus. It felt like I was high. He looked even better close up. He had no irises, just black eyes; two black eyes staring straight into my very soul. His hair was almost black and his dress sense impeccable. If someone bundled up Brad Pitt, Jonny Depp and Vin Diesel in a burlap sack and gave me it for Christmas it wouldn’t make a dent on the appeal this guy had. His chest felt so hard crushing me. It was as if he was built of stone but I didn’t care, in fact, I liked that I was completely at his mercy.

We hadn’t even spoken. I didn’t even know his name. We looked at each other and in that look we exchanged something primal, something animalistic that said we were going to fuck, and it was going to be spectacular. His lips crashed down on mine and he grabbed my hips and pulled me even closer to him. He cupped my ass like a man who knew how to work a woman. I swear to God, as he was kissing me and fondling my behind, I actually orgasmed. I broke away from his kiss and threw my head back and cried out, ‘Holy shit!’ as I lost myself in bliss. It was then that he smiled and I saw he was wearing fangs. They looked really cute. I had to laugh, he didn’t.

I pondered for a moment while I looked at him. I was torn between wanting to kiss him again and being slightly scared at the way he was looking at me. Then something inside me clicked. I looked at him, I looked into those eyes, and I knew he was the real deal. I mean, it sounds stupid to write it but I just knew. He must have seen the slightly petrified expression on my face.

“Don’t be scared,” he said to me. “I want you, but I won’t hurt you.” I couldn’t pinpoint his accent but it sounded as sexy as hell and polite at the same time.

I nodded. It was all I could manage to do. I tried to regain some composure but I could feel his erection digging into my stomach and it was making me feel like molten lava. He kissed me again and his hands found the hem of my dress as we frantically fought to devour each other. His hands travelled up my thighs taking my dress with them. One of his knees found its way in between mine parting them. I suddenly realised what I was nearly doing, in an alleyway, in Manchester. I was a class act all the way.

“Not here,” I eventually replied tugging my dress back down. “My place or your place?” He kissed me again. I was lost. Was I under some strange vampire spell? This was dangerous. Not just dangerous, stupid, really, really stupid. My thoughts were scattered and I couldn’t focus my mind on anything other than his luscious lips devouring mine and his spicy scent invading my head.

“Your place,” he said. He led me by the hand and we jumped in to a cab. I wanted to rip his pants off and suck him dry and it took every ounce of will power I could muster to stop myself. “You are beautiful, Robin.” I asked him in surprise how he knew my name. “The bar tender told me, it’s not some strange power. My name is Redvick, but most call me Red.”

I liked it, it rolled off my tongue. I gave the cab driver my address. Thank God I didn’t live far away. I could barely stop myself tearing his clothes off on the back seat. We made out a little more, just kissing, neither of us wanted to give the cabbie a free show.

He hadn’t actually told me he was a vampire and I should have been bothered by the fact that I was probably for dinner but some instinct told me to go with it, that along with the unbelievable craving for his body. More than a little part of me was seriously turned on by the fact that he was going to devour me in every way.

It was obvious that he wanted me the same, the pants he had on were quite tight and they were biting into him. I couldn’t take my eyes off his erection, it was huge! He caught me staring and smiled showing me his fangs. I think I actually swooned.

“I usually have more self control. I don’t know what’s got in to me,” he said.

We pulled up outside my lovely three bedroom house. He paid the cab, left a huge tip and led me up to my front door with fierce determination. I fumbled in my bag for my key. Why did huge fucking handbags have to be in fashion? I felt Red’s hands snaking behind me fondling my breasts, his erection pressing into my back. He was tall, about six-three and I, a puny five-two.

I dropped my key.

“Fuck,” I said out loud. It had dropped onto the lawn, which was due a trim, unlike, my other lawn, which, thank god, was freshly waxed. I bent down and swooped my hands in the grass to try to find it in the darkness. Red took one look at my ass and booted my door in. I didn’t care.

“We shall worry about that later,” he said as he ushered me upstairs to my bedroom. His hands were everywhere, touching me over the fabric of my dress. They explored my body with urgent need as our lips met with desperation. My hands were everywhere too, his body was so tight and muscular that I couldn’t help myself, every curve was as solid as stone and begging to be touched. He skin had a cool touch, like he’d been stood by an open window but not as cold as I expected. I released his hair, letting it fall around my face and running my hands through it. He smelt divine, clean and so masculine. He was intoxicating.

We tore at each other’s clothes and I was wearing an eight-hundred pound dress. It didn’t matter one bit; I needed to feel as much of his skin as possible pressed against mine.

He stood up in all his naked glory and I, in my black Jimmy Choo high heels and a tiny black thong. I looked him up and down. He was by far the biggest man I’d had in my bed I wondered if it would hurt, but I didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t as pale as I would have imagined a vampire would be but his veins were quite prominent. He was perfect, absolutely perfect in every way. His stomach was flat and muscular and all his body was gloriously free of hair apart from the dark patch of curls surrounding his wonderful cock. I would like to say that I could’ve looked at him all night but to see him was to ache for him to touch me.

He kissed me and my thoughts went fuzzy again. The only thing clear to me was that I had to have this man, this vampire. He grabbed the side of my thong with his forefinger and tore it from my body so I was just wearing my little black heels. He inched me onto the bed. I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see where he was going to kiss me next. I felt his mouth enclose around one of my nipples and his hair lightly tickled me as he travelled from one to the next flicking his tongue over them in turn. One hand snaked its way down to between my legs where I was already ready and burning for him.

I came the instant he found my clitoris. I arched my back and cried out. He didn’t give me any chance to recover before he was kissing his way down my belly. I felt his fangs scrape my skin and I shuddered. His mouth replaced his hands and at that point I was practically screaming, you know, like you do. My neighbours were probably calling the police. I felt his tongue swirling around my nub and when he slid two fingers inside me I bolted up in bed crying out.

“You’ve got to stop,” I panted.

“Why?” he smiled. “You taste delicious.”

“Please, I need you to fuck me now so badly.”

“Lie back down. I’m not finished here.” I did as he commanded. He parted my legs as far as they would go and resumed devouring me. I had three more orgasms before he had mercy on me. I would have liked to return the favour but he kept me pinned to the bed. It seemed he could not get enough of me. I was completely and utterly at his mercy.

He stopped and towered up over me looking me straight in the eyes as he drove himself deep inside me. I screamed even louder as the pain of his size gave way to the most intense feeling I had ever experienced with a man. His mouth captured mine and I tasted my own desire. He filled me to capacity. It was bloody uncomfortable but so overwhelmingly fantastic that I begged him to fuck me deeper and harder, bringing my hips up to slam into his. He obliged me with just as much urgency.

I was covered in sweat from head to toe and I thought I would faint if I came again. Both my heels had pierced my duvet cover giving me the leverage I needed to meet him stroke for stroke. Suddenly from nowhere another wave was building and building. I was crying out his name when he sank his fangs deep into my neck. I gasped as my skin was pierced but there was no pain, just ecstasy. My latest orgasm lasted the whole time he was drinking from me. I was throbbing and clenching around him and I could tell by the way he quickened his strokes that he was about to climax too but he wasn’t letting go so easily.

I honestly thought to myself, I’m not going to survive this. How can you feel so much in such a short time? I was practically buckling underneath him. I never wanted the pleasure to end but feared if it didn’t I would surely pass out. Finally, he released himself inside me and removed his fangs from my neck, planting small kisses there.

“Jesus fucking Christ” I said, and then I fainted.
































Chapter 3




I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious. I couldn’t see anything but I remember hearing voices; one was Red’s, the other I didn’t recognise. It was like I was hearing them from far away. My body felt so heavy that I couldn’t even muster up the energy to move. The voices drifted, loud and quiet, like someone was twiddling with my volume button and I found it difficult to focus on any one in particular. I felt as though I was trapped inside my own body. I thought at first that maybe I was dead and I was slowly drifting away from my self. Well as far as ways to go that one had to be top of the list. It wasn’t painful and right then I felt so serene and peaceful. The voices I heard seemed to drift closer.

“Red, just leave her. She’ll be dead by the time the ambulance gets here.”

“I want her. I need her. I must have her”

As I heard his voice it sent fresh shivers all over me.

“What do you mean you want her? You evidently had her.”

“You don’t understand what I think she means. I need her, it’s like an ache.”

“We’ve got too much shit going down, Vinnie will kill you if you get distracted.”

“I do not care. We are taking her with us.”

I concentrated on his voice to try to hold on.

“If you want to keep her you’re gonna have to turn her now. It doesn’t look like she’ll make the journey.”

The voices seemed to get further away. Then Red spoke into my ear. “Drink for me, Robin.”

He pressed his wrist up to my mouth and I tasted his blood. It was like nothing I’d ever sampled before and I knew in that instant why he had nearly drank me dry. I wanted to drink from him forever. It was bitter, sweet and cool. I could feel my strength returning and I moaned as I drew each mouthful from him. I felt my lips clamp round his wrist and he held it firmly in place. The flow kept slowing down but I chomped angrily on his flesh to keep the blood flowing consistently. My heart was hammering wildly in my chest and I could feel a whooshing noise in my ears. I wanted to cry out but most of my senses were still numb. My heartbeat increased even more so it sounded like one long purr, it stuttered then gave out one final loud beat then I passed out again.





I awoke on a bed in what appeared to be a cave. The lights were dim and I propped myself up to try to get a better view of my surroundings. It was very tastefully furnished and clean, but shit. A fucking cave, he lives in bloody cave?! Why couldn’t he live in a great big mansion? Deep down I didn’t care really, it was just the first thing that sprang to mind. He could have shagged me upside down in a dustbin and I wouldn’t have complained, well, not a lot. My body now felt fantastic, groggy and dopey, but fantastic. I glanced around the room trying to pin point what felt different. Colours seemed sharper, like watching a Blu-ray film for the first time. I could see everything, even particles of dust floating through the air. I could see every fibre in the carpet on the floor.

I was also hungry. Like hangover hungry. My stomach felt awful, somewhere between queasy and ravenous. If I’d have been at home I would have been cracking open the bacon for a sarnie. I looked at my surroundings. The walls were rough stone and patches of plaster (no windows though, hence the cave thought). I was laid on a huge black leather sleigh bed with satin sheets and plump comfy pillows. There was a desk in one corner piled high with what looked to be maps and blue prints and a four door wardrobe in the other. All the furniture looked expensive and slightly eastern to me but I’m no expert. There were two doors, one that was slightly ajar and I could see a large cast iron bath and I could hear distant noise through the other.



I put my hand up to my neck. No mark. I ran my fingertips over my teeth. No fangs. Was I a vampire or had he changed his mind? Apart from the excellent vision I really didn’t feel any different, I certainly didn’t feel dead. I inhaled deeply, my lungs still worked OK. I checked my pulse. When I finally found it, it was beating but only once every thirty seconds or so. I wasn’t sure how many beats in a minute a regular heart should beat but I knew that wasn’t normal. Weird. My skin did look paler but the light was quite dim in that little room and it was hard to tell really.

I had been dressed in a beautiful silk and lace slip, no undies. I liked that. My legs were satiny smooth. My skin felt perfect like it had been buffed almost to a shine. I ran my hands through my hair. Did it feel thicker?

My mind drifted to that passionate encounter in the club and the even steamier one on my bed. I definitely wanted, no, needed him again. I remembered his hands everywhere and the aching need to be filled by him, possessed by him. I remembered his lips, so perfect and full, tasting me, sampling me like some exquisite brandy. I didn’t care that I was possibly deceased and that he had been the one responsible for the said condition. I just wanted more of him. Then I remembered his taste as I had drank his blood. Like the sweetest candy sent from heaven making me scorch inside. I wanted to taste him again; it was as if my life depended on it. I was addicted to him. I have never touched drugs, not even cannabis, but I needed my fix of him. Just the thought of his hands touching my body awakened new desire within me and I contemplated getting out of bed to go look for him. Lucky for me I didn’t have to.

The main entrance to the room opened and a whole lot of noise came in.

Red entered quickly closing the door behind him. He wore black trousers and black boots and a collarless white shirt. His long hair was pulled back off his face in a pony tail. I drew in a sharp breath at how perfect and masculine he looked standing at the end of the bed, staring at me. His jet black eyes told me that he wanted to devour me just the same as I wanted him. It seemed like an eternity passed as we sized each other up, both contemplating the enormity of the emotions fizzling between us.

“You’re awake,” he said, approaching me.

“Are we in a cave?” I replied. He laughed and it was so sexy I could barely contain myself. I couldn’t pin point where his accent was from. It sounded British but not an accent that I recognised. It was sexy as hell.

“Yes, we are in a cave. It’s temporary but necessary. I don’t live around here, the pack does.”

“Where do you live?”

“About eighty miles outside of Manchester, usually.”

“Usually?”

“My job takes me all over and I have properties all over the world.”

“Your job? You mean being a vampire?” God it sounded silly when I said it out loud.

“No. I’m a relic hunter of sorts.”

“You mean like Indiana Jones?”

“Sort of, although I wouldn’t have described it like that, it’s a lot more mundane actually.”

“Hmm, OK. Was I just dreaming or did you nearly kill me and then feed me your blood?”

He smiled again. “I didn’t have a choice. I think you’re my soul mate.”

Way to get heavy on a girl after one date. I’d never had a guy tell me he loved me before let alone be soul mates. I usually ran a mile and then some at the slightest hint of love from the opposite sex, or any sex for that matter, but for some reason with Red I didn’t mind one bit. I should have been shitting myself at that thought. Alarm bells should have been ringing away inside my head but they weren’t. In fact my body was saying, ‘Give me more,’ and my mind was saying, ‘Why the hell not!?’

“Don’t you feel it? Every time you think about me, every time we touch. It’s like electricity,” he continued. A seriously cheesy Electric Six song popped into my head. Danger, danger! High voltage! When we touch! When we kiss! I smiled to myself and then quickly brushed it aside.

“Oh, I felt it alright and it was fantastic, the best! But I thought that was your vampire magic drawing me in for a feed or something.”

“No. I do have the ability to attract the opposite sex for feeding purposes but you’re different. I was overwhelmed by your smell and your taste. It invaded my senses and all I could focus on was touching you and feeling you. And when I fed from you it was the most potent blood I had ever tasted. Something inside me made me lose control and I couldn’t stop until...”

“I nearly died?”

“Yes,” he said, solemnly.

“I know that should bother me and I should be angry but I’m not. Don’t worry, it’s OK. I feel the same. From the first time you looked up at me on the balcony I was hooked too. Like an electric charge when your eyes met mine.”

“It’s not OK though! When I felt you go limp in my arms I realised what I had nearly done. I was so angry at myself. I couldn’t believe that having just found you, I had nearly lost you just as quickly. I couldn’t have lived with myself if you’d died. I called for help. You see, we have to ask permission to turn vampires, and we have to give people several years to think about it. I nearly blew it all. I hope you can forgive me Robin.”

“Of course I forgive you.” He looked relieved.

“You sound so sure. But you have every right to be vexed.”

“I’m not… vexed, whatever the hell that means, just annoyingly horny and so, so thirsty. I’ve never been so thirsty in my whole damn life, so chillax Red, it’s fine.”

“I will get you something to drink in a minute. Tell me, do you feel it now, do you feel drawn to me?” I nodded. Even though I felt quite exhausted, I was so aroused by his presence that I was already moist. I wanted him.

“What exactly does ‘soul mates’ mean?” I asked, trying to distract myself and failing miserably, the man was sex on legs!

“Once I had you safe down here I went to see our pack leader. I knew the basics but he is much older and filled me in on the parts I was unsure of. Soul mates are two bodies destined to be together but it doesn’t happen very often. It’s unavoidable, once they have encountered each other they are compelled to be together. You can search for centuries and never find your other half. Only a few that I know of have found a soul mate and had them reciprocate those feelings. I’m three hundred years old and you are my first.”

“Aww.”

He frowned.

“Not that first. Soul mate first.”

“You mean you can have more than one? And you’re how old?!” This was too much. This guy was around before cars, electricity and iPods. No wonder I couldn’t pinpoint his accent, it probably didn’t exist any more and it explained why he sounded a little like a Shakespearean throwback.

“I’m three-hundred and twenty-six and yes, it has been known for a vampire to lose a soul mate and find another but I’ve never personally seen it.”

“No wonder you sound so bloody posh, I bet it was all ‘la-de-da’ tea parties for you back then, eh?”

“Actually no. When I was human I was a farmhand, but as time goes on you adapt to your surroundings.”

“Ah, and now you only mingle with the rich and famous.”

“That’s correct. Some other vampires have the ability to blend in better.”

“I love the way you sound, it’s so refined.”

“I’m glad you approve.” He chuckled

“So with the soul mates thingy, the other person doesn’t always feel the same?”

“Correct, and the unlucky one can go insane from their feelings of lust and love but it eases with age. It’s easier if the other party is out of the picture. Distance and time can make the longing easier to bear.”

We finally shut the hell up and he closed the gap between us and kissed me gently. It was such a contrast to our other kisses, sweet and slow. He ran his hand over my nightie. I became aware of the fact that I could smell him. Not a horrible smell or an aftershave smell, just his own natural smell. It was earthy and spicy at the same time. As I breathed it in it made my head spin and I forgot my incredible thirst. I ran my hands over his body marvelling at how taut he was beneath my fingertips.

I broke reluctantly away from his wonderful kiss. “Am I really dead?”

“I have turned you. Your heart beats unnaturally slow, too slow, but you don’t need to breathe so in theory, you are dead. Some of our kind use the term ‘undead’.”

“Well I don’t feel dead anyway, and I can still breathe.”

“You can still breathe but it’s just force of habit. You’ll find as you age you will cease to breathe all together.” As he was speaking his hand made its way up my leg to the part of me that craved him the most, and he whispered in my ear, “And you definitely don’t feel dead to me.”

I sank back into the sheets and gripped handfuls of silk as he teased and played with me, all the while smiling down at me with a face like a cross between a God and a movie star.

“God, that’s good,” I groaned.

“You need to eat,” he said

“I want to eat you,” I replied, looking up.

“Later. Let me get you something to drink and you’ll feel stronger. Then we can fuck all day long.”

The word ‘fuck’ in his ancient accent was so out of context but was so incredibly hot.

“How will I know I’m stronger?”

“You just will. Feeding is a very sexual thing and as we drink we are invigorated.”

He left briefly and returned with a glass, which obviously contained blood. I could smell it and it made me want to retch. The dark liquid clung to glass as it swirled round.

“I can’t drink that! I'll puke. I faint at the sight of blood!” I said turning up my lip in disgust.

“You won’t now. Once you have your first sip your instinct will take over and you’ll devour it.” I was sceptical. I took the glass and brought it slowly to my lips. The smell was making me nauseous. I touched my lips to the ruby liquid barely letting any in my mouth.

“Eugh! That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted, it’s like mouldy metal!”

He looked puzzled. He took the glass back from me and took a sip himself. He closed his eyes as if he were sampling some exquisite vintage wine.

“It is fine. Just drink it”

“No, it’s rank.”

“Rank?”

“It means gross.”

“You have to drink it.”

“I do not.”

“You will die.”

“I can’t drink that, Red!” He could sense I was getting agitated. He polished the blood off himself and started to remove his clothing. He saw me looking at him.

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” he said, finally.

“OK. Maybe it’s a bad batch.”

“Maybe you should just drink it and embrace what you have become.” I didn’t answer him, but I knew there was no way I was ever, ever going to drink that stuff. With a heavy sigh he carried on undressing, looking at me with a most puzzled expression on his face.



Once Red was fully naked he climbed into bed next to me. I shuffled over and kissed him. There was still an underlining hint of blood in his mouth but it didn’t stop me claiming him. I wanted to take control so I climbed on top and straddled him. He smiled at me as we kissed.

“You are so wet,” he whispered. He closed his eyes as if he were savouring me.

Our first teeny tiny argument was long forgotten. He was already rock hard and I ground myself against him coating him with my moisture. He groaned in response. I enjoyed the fact that he couldn’t resist me just like I couldn’t resist him. I scooted down so I was on my knees before him.

“Bring me your ass up here,” he said.

I shook my head at his request and smiled wickedly. Lord knows I wanted ten screaming orgasms in a row but I knew I couldn’t concentrate on pleasing him with my mouth if he was eating me, and I wanted to please him, my soul mate, my creator, my vampire.

He laid his head back and moaned as I took the tip of him into my mouth. I found that I could take a surprising amount of his length. I guess that’s a perk of not having to breathe and I held my superfluous breath all the way through. I made sure he was really wet to heighten his pleasure, and then I went to town, taking as much of him as I could then holding it before slowly sliding my mouth off. My composed vampire groaned as I worked and milked him with my mouth, and when I cupped his balls gently in my hands he jerked in response. The fact that he was losing all composure was seriously turning me on, but I had to focus. He laid his hands on the back of my head brushing my brown hair aside so that he could watch me as I suckled him. He seemed to be completely losing himself, calling my name and grasping my hair tightly, almost too tightly.

I thought he was close to his climax but before he could give himself release, he literally picked me up and impaled me onto him. In one fell swoop his entire length was inside me and I was grinding him for all I was worth, wanting more, even though he was already filling me to bursting point. My lips found his urgently as we rocked together and I tasted his unique scent, it invaded my head and senses, making me lose control. I eased off so just the tip of him was inside me, and then I lowered myself back down fully onto him until I could feel him touching my very core.

Then I felt something new. I didn’t know he was ready to come but I could actually sense it, like a fire building up inside him. I sensed the blood flowing through his veins, slow and sluggish. The vein in his neck bulged in response, beckoning me. I felt an overwhelming pain in my mouth as my fangs pushed two of my own teeth out to make room. I cried and spat them out. I tasted my own blood and it spurred me on, building my own orgasm inside me. As I was about to find my release I sank my new fangs into Reds neck. His blood rushed into my mouth like a burst dam and I swallowed my first mouthful. A wave of pleasure so intense came over me. I felt my body clutch Red’s cock as I came and still I drank. Red was writhing in pleasure beneath me as his body finally gave him release. And still I drank. Our orgasms lasted for what seemed like an eternity before I withdrew my fangs from his neck and collapsed on top of him.

Red looked puzzled and weak. I kissed him gently on the lips then I lightly lapped the wound on his neck I had made and I watched in fascination as it started to knot together and heal until the skin was as smooth and as perfect as before. Red was still inside me. I laid my head down on his chest and enjoyed the feeling of him there.

“Your eyes,” he said, as I looked up.

“What about them?”

“There’s a mirror in the bathroom.” I reluctantly left him, padding quickly into the room I had seen earlier. I then looked at myself in the mirror for the first time with my new eyes. I nearly gasped. My tan had gone and in the bathroom light I looked really pale. I paid quite a hefty amount each month towards my spray tan!

My lips were ruby red and my cheeks were flush from our love making. The shocking thing was the irises of my eyes were bright post box red. I looked fucking scary! As I watched myself, the redness in my eyes began to fade, until they were just like Reds, black. My fangs were sharp and pearly white. They were nearly a centimetre longer than the rest of my teeth and they slowly began to retract until they blended in nicely with the rest. I couldn’t believe how different I looked and yet it was still me, still Robin. Underneath the new exterior I was still the same old me. Wasn’t I?

I looked down at my body. My skin was satin smooth and my muscles slightly more defined without appearing masculine. I returned back to Red.

“They are black now.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you OK?”

“Just feel a little weak.”

“Can I get you something?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep.”

I went over and kissed him again. Even in his weakened state he responded. I broke away and exposed my neck to him. I wanted him to experience the same pleasure I had felt as I had drank from him, but he looked puzzled and turned his head away. I cupped the back of his head gently and kissed him deeply. I had bitten him and now I wanted to give myself to him in this way too. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I offered him my neck again and then some primal instinct within him in took over and he grabbed me roughly by the hair. I watched as his fangs slid out, then he sank them into my neck. God, it felt good. I felt as if I were being completely taken and dominated. I felt submissive but at the same time in control because with each mouth full he took, I could feel him getting harder against my thigh until he pushed me roughly back and entered me once more. I cried out, but he did not release me. He pounded me with such ferocity that I thought the bed was going to give way. He withdrew from my neck, crying out as we both found our release.

“There is something amiss here,” he said, lying back.

“Amiss?” I giggled. “Yeah, your eyes don’t go red, Red.”

“They aren’t supposed to. Neither are yours.”

“But they did.”

“And vampires do not usually feel the need to feed off each other.”

“But you did.”

“I know.”

“It was fucking great,” I said, enthusiastically.

“I know but…”

“Loosen up. Maybe it’s this whole ‘soul mates’ thing.”

“Maybe, but it’s more than that. We need to go and see Vinnie.”

“Who’s Vinnie?”

“My boss.”

“You have a boss?” I laughed.

“He turned me. He is the oldest in our pack, the leader. Let’s get you something to wear. He’s going to be cranky when I wake him.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No. When I was first turned I practically snatched the goblet of blood from Vinnie’s hand for my first drink of human blood. You were repulsed by it.”

“Look, this is silly, lets just chill for today. We are both exhausted and sweaty and need some sleep, so let’s sleep and deal with this later.”

He hesitated. “OK, if we must. I need to feed.”

“You just did.”

“I can’t survive off your blood; I need human blood to get my strength back up. I’ll be right back.”

He slipped on a t-shirt and boxers and left. He returned once more with a pint glass full of blood. I could smell it even stronger than the last drink he had brought in. I bit my tongue. He was obviously freaked out a little that I hadn’t instantly turned into super vamp. These things must surely take time sometimes? He drained the glass in a couple of mouthfuls.

“It tastes better fresh,” he sighed, looking into the empty glass longingly.

“What where you like when you were human?”

“Poor.”

“God forbid,” I laughed.

“What about you? What were you like…yesterday?”

“A successful model and party girl! I have, by the way, left my house behind with a broken front door and thousands of pounds worth of shoes, handbags and designer clothes in it.”

“You sound like Elaina. She loves handbags. I am positive she has one for each day of the year. We took care of your door so don’t worry.”

“Erm… rewind! Who is Elaina?” I said, defensively.

“She’s like my sister. Vinnie made the two of us close together. We knew each other when we were little. Why does a woman need hundreds of handbags for Christ’s sake?”

“And you and her have never fucked?” I said getting back on subject.

“Jesus Robin. No! I told you she is like my sister.”

“Hmm, OK,” I said, slightly reassured. “I don’t want to have to compete with someone else for your attention.”

“I’m afraid that, as my soul mate, I will have eyes for only you for as long as I live. Have you left anyone behind you need to call?”

“Nah, not at the minute. My mother is a fucking pain in the arse, we’ve never got on. We just had this huge row yesterday about my life style. She wants me to settle down and have ten kids. It’s not me though, I can’t stand kids. I suppose I don’t have to worry about all that now.”

“No. Does it bother you?”

“Lord, no. Some people just shouldn’t have kids. I’m one of them. It sounds selfish but there just hasn’t been room in my life for any. My Mum, though, wants me to have kids so she can love them like she could never love me. She’s lucky if I visit once a month; it’s all I can bear. She spends the whole time bangin’ on about how if I leave it much longer she’ll be too old to be a grandma, she’s only forty-two for fuck sake! Anyway, my dad went AWOL when I was a baby and I have no brothers or sisters. I suppose there’s my best friend Danni, I should probably call her in a week or so.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not recently. I was having what I would call a dry spell.”

“Oh,” Red patted my head patronisingly, “had it been a while?”

“Two weeks.”

“Robin, I think that you and I are going to get along just fine.”
Back to top Go down
http://www.vampirememoirs.co.uk
pammyz

avatar

Posts : 18
Join date : 2010-02-03

PostSubject: Re: Red's Robin Vampire Memoirs book 1 by Nicola Ormerod   Thu Feb 11, 2010 5:38 pm

Best to you and write on cheers
Pamela Jansen
Author of How I Became A Fearless Woman
www.pamelajansen.com
http://fearlesswoman.blogspot.com
Back to top Go down
http://www.pamelajansen.com
 
Red's Robin Vampire Memoirs book 1 by Nicola Ormerod
Back to top 
Page 1 of 1
 Similar topics
-
» Penworthy Prebound Book Contest *usa only*
» What if Ben 10 as Comic Book Superhero
» Women's Showcase Book Lovers Sweepstakes
» Penworthy Prebound Book Contest
» 400 BEST Sandwich Recipe Book Giveaway *Canada and usa only*

Permissions in this forum:You cannot reply to topics in this forum
Creative Workshop :: Writing :: Books-
Jump to: