Ain't Your Bitch(27)

"We're going back." He started without waiting to see if she would follow. He evidently assumed that she was following, but when she didn't, he turned and stopped.

"What happened? How did you get out?"

"It's fine. We have to get back to Jason."

"No, it's not fine. You should have been dead! You were fighting a vampire, Isaiah. A vampire!"

"I've fought worse, now let's get going before someone worse than me catches wind that you're out here."

"Not until you explain what happened. I know you didn't just tough it out. You're hurt. I can see that. You need to get to a hospital."

"No. I'll be fine, but right now we've got other priorities."

"Screw priorities! Listen to me, damn it!" Sarah heard the words coming out of her mouth, so much more confident than she felt. "I'm worried about—"

He closed the gap faster than she had thought imaginable and captured her lips with his. If he was trying to silence any argument, it worked. Sarah wanted to stop him. Wanted to say something. Wanted to ask him what was going on, to make him explain it to her.

She wanted him to keep going more, though. She pressed her body back against his, enjoying the way that he seemed to growl, to grow more aggressive in his kiss. He picked her up with his good arm and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

The time she'd spent with Jason had only served to get her riled up and now she wanted to go all the way, damn what they thought of her. If she came off like a slut…

She shut up that part of her mind. She didn't need it, didn't care. She'd had too long a night, too terrifying. Isaiah tried the first door he came to. For a moment it seemed locked, and then he gave the handle a hard twist and put his shoulder into it, and it swung open easily.

Sarah wasn't the kind of girl to break into places, wasn't the sort of person to be in this situation at all. Isaiah, though… she wondered if it even phased him. He pushed her over the edge of a counter and onto her back. Sarah let her head hang back, feeling him working the fly on her jeans and pulling them down and off, onto the floor.

"Fuck me," she purred, feeling his hardness pressed against her. "Please, please fuck me."

He said nothing, his hands exploring her body, lifting up her shirt.

Sarah could feel the cool night air, could hear the cars driving past outside. Part of her worried that they might get caught, that they could have someone walk in on them. She worried, what would it do to her reputation, if that happened? What if the police came and arrested her?

The feeling of his hardness, pressed against her folds, silenced her doubts. A jolt of pleasure shocked her from her toes to her fingertips as he started to press into her. She felt so full, fuller than she had ever imagined. The toys she'd used couldn't compare, between the aggression with which he thrust into her and the searing heat where they connected.

It drew all her attention to the pleasure that was slowly building inside her, building up and out and filling her belly. This was what she'd been missing, all those years. What she'd been deprived of by the one boy she had let have his way with her. She tried to make a mental note to do this more often, but then another hard thrust sent her mind reeling.

"Oh God," she said, unsure whether it was addressed to herself or to Isaiah. "Are you going to cum in me? It's not—it's not a safe day, but—"

He didn't answer her right away and her mind raced with the possibilities. Part of her wanted him to stop, to pull out. She couldn't afford to get pregnant. She had a job, had responsibilities, had people who counted on her to be there. She couldn't meet those expectations if she was sidelined with a pregnancy.

The larger part of her, though, didn't care what he did, so long as it was what he wanted. That part wanted nothing more than to give herself up to him, to his will. His powerful body and powerful will seemed to add up into something greater. The strongest man she'd ever known, so powerful and commanding and beautiful.

Finally he answered her the only way that she could have hoped for. "Shut up."

His expression was intense, focused. Whatever pain he'd been feeling seemed to be gone, now, as he took his pleasure from her, and she took whatever he gave her.

Sarah's face was twisted in pleasure, enjoying the feeling of being fucked savagely by such a dominant man. She could feel his growing desperation in the speed of his thrusts; in the way that he seemed more and more as if he were chasing something that was just beyond the next powerful thrust into her waiting womanhood.

Then he let out a loud groan and used her hips as a handle to thrust his hardness into her, deeper than she had thought possible, and she knew that he was coming inside her. His manhood twitched with each spurt of potent cum into her womb.

Sarah imagined his sperm piercing the outer shell of her egg, growing into a child. Somehow, the vision and the feeling of his cock shooting into her drove her over the edge again, her body convulsing with pleasure. He pulled out, his breathing heavy. Sarah laid her head back, trying to catch her own breath and waiting for her vision to clear again.

She could feel his lips on her, starting at her breast, starting the stirrings of arousal deep inside her once more, kissing his way up to the collar bone. His fingers twisted her other nipple to painful hardness, each touch sending a jolt of pleasure through her. She gasped when his lips came to her throat, felt his teeth scrape against her exposed skin.

Then he jerked away from her, taking in a sharp breath. Sarah sat up to watch him. His eyes were wild and he looked strange—afraid, though she didn't know what of.

The cut on his face had faded into a particularly bad scratch, and he didn't stand at the same unusual angle that he had before. As impossible as it was to believe, he seemed almost as if he'd… just gotten better.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, after a long second of watching him stare at her and lean back against the shelves of the store they'd broken into. Unnatural healing, the power to fight with a vampire… That could only mean one thing. She tried to think of some alternative, but nothing was coming up.

"What the fuck are you?"

"It's not what you think," he said. Too quickly. He knew exactly what she was thinking.

And, she realized, in spite of what he wanted her to think, in spite of the fact that he wanted her to calm down and to stop freaking out…

He couldn't bring himself to say that he wasn't a vampire.





4



For a moment Sarah didn't move. Didn't want to think, didn't want to breathe. If she could have disappeared completely, she would've done that. She realized in that moment exactly what deer feel when they stand in the middle of the road, staring. Waiting for death.

Isaiah's face started to soften. For once his intense expression seemed to slip off his face like a mask. "Sarah, please—"

Then she couldn't stop moving. She slipped her clothes on, picked her jeans up as she moved past him. If she could just get past him… She shoved her way into her jeans as she stepped through the door, slipped her shoes on, and took one long look back at Isaiah.

He seemed to be waiting for something, his breathing heavy. He watched her, though, and the look in his eyes slowly returned to the same intensity, returned to the same power.

Before, it had made Sarah feel safe. As if he were driven. Driven to kill monsters, and by extension, to protect her.

Now she knew better. He was looking at her like she was a piece of meat, and to him, she was. A piece of the most succulent meat she'd ever seen. She started to run, not looking back.

She'd never been a runner. Her lungs burned, her feet felt like they were on fire. Her legs ached. But every time that she wanted to slow down she thought of that feeling, the teeth scraping against her throat. The way that with a simple bite down, he could have…

Her chest hurt, badly. She wanted to stop, wanted to fall to the ground. Her stomach churned with anxiety and fear and the ache of exertion all mixing around. Still she continued. It was only another half-mile, and if she'd come this far…

The loading-bay doors were closed when she got back to the warehouse. She slammed into it with her shoulder, her legs unable to slow her down before she hit. Then she slumped down, her body wanting to quit even as her mind raced.

No, she thought. She couldn't afford to stop now. If she stopped then she was dead. Isaiah could have caught her easily, but something had stopped him. For a moment, she knew. Any second he could come around that corner, and then she'd be helpless if she couldn't get up, get the door open, and get inside.

Once she was inside, she could talk to Jason. He needed to know what had happened to his partner, what had happened to her. He could keep her safe. He knew all about vampires. He hunted them, had been hunting them practically forever, he said.

If Isaiah was going to be a threat then Jason would know how to protect her. She forced her feet underneath her and made herself stand up. Her fingers scrabbled at the base of the loading-bay door. She took a moment to peek over her shoulder, praying that Isaiah wasn't there, that she had just a few more seconds.

Her hands caught on the handle of the door, and she strained her legs more than she'd ever strained before. As long as she could get through, she would be safe. Jason would be inside. He was her lifeline. She repeated it to herself, over and over.

Jason was safety. Jason would keep her safe. As long as she got the door open.