Disclaimer: This work is intended only for a consenting adult audience. If you are underage, do not wish to view explicit adult content or if this material is prohibited or banned in your current locale, do not read this material.
Author’s Note: I feel like I’ve written two stories here, and am a bit torn about it.
Chapter one of Bitten was originally posted as a stand alone short on the MC Forums, and I feel that this is its strongest form.
However, Tiffany and Abby thought otherwise and the story kept going on after that, forming chapters two and beyond.
So, you can either treat chapter one as a stand alone piece and leave it there, or read the rest of the chapters together as one story.
Anyway, I’ll stop talking now ...
All comments and criticism (positive, constructive, and negative) welcomed.
Thanks and enjoy the show!
Dark-O-Meter: Medium/Mild (Dark-ish). Contains potentially strong emotional content, including topics of betrayal.
Bitten
Chapter One
“Tiffany please!” I pleaded, “don’t do this!”
I looked at the reflection of Tiffany Wakefield in the full length mirror that was attached to the back of the bathroom door, in the little one bedroom, off-campus apartment we both shared. She stood behind me and was unbuttoning my blouse, her gaze fastened to the pulse in my throat. For the first time since my college roommate and childhood friend had become a vampire two months ago, I was terrified.
“Shhh. Abby, I need this,” she said, her lips inches from my ear.
She pulled my blouse up over my shoulders and down my unresisting arms. Then she looked at me through the mirror again and placed her hands on my shoulders. She brought her lips back up to my ear. “I need this. I need you.”
Two months ago, her eyes had still been the plain brown eyes she’d been born with. But since her change, they were a bright, iridescent violet. She had come home tonight with a hungry expression, had pinned me with those eyes and dragged me into the bathroom.
“Please Tiff, don’t do this ... don’t—”
“Be quiet.” Her eyes held mine and I couldn’t speak.
Two months ago she’d been out with some people she’d met at one of the dance clubs downtown. The four girls, two humans, a werewolf and a vampire, had been driving home when they’d gotten into a car accident. I’d found out afterward that they’d all been drinking, of course. Even the werewolf who had been driving. The car went left of center and hit a truck.
The werewolf and the other human had died instantly, but the vampire had managed to pull Tiffany out of the car, even though Tiffany was bleeding badly. She had died in the vampire’s arms before the ambulance could come, and the vampire had brought her back, brought her over.
I had gone down to the hospital and sat with her while she recovered. She was, after all, my best friend. I was thankful then that she had survived, thankful that she was back. But she had changed.
Tiffany undid the clasp on my bra and slid that off too. “Put your hands on the glass.”
Helpless, I leaned forward and put both hands on the mirrored door.
She leaned into me. She slid her hands up around my hips. Dragged her nails lightly up my stomach. She cupped my naked breasts. I breathed in, pleading at her through the mirror with my eyes.
Slowly, she ran her nose across my shoulder and up my neck. I shivered.
Before tonight, she’d never used her vampiric charm, her compulsion, on me. Things had been normal between us, even though she’d had new needs.
Her classes had been moved to the late night sessions held for the “no sunlight” students at the college. We saw each other in the early morning and mid evening, one of us going to bed, the other just rising. I helped her cope with the changes as best I could. Let her know that we were still the lifelong friends we always had been.
But there were some aspects that I couldn’t help her with. Like her new thirst.
Bottled blood had only helped for the first few weeks. After that, she’d been embarrassed, telling me that she needed to take blood from donors. I told her that was fine, I was ok with it. But it was hard, because I knew what she meant. I knew where she was going.
In most cities, there were bars setup to help meet the needs of young vampires. Seedier dance clubs, with volunteers lined up to “donate”. And those clubs always had regulars. Girls and guys that could be depended on to be there, to be willing to offer themselves. They were there for the sexual rush. Thralls to the pleasure.
Tiffany ran her teeth over the skin of my neck, raising goose bumps. She backed off when her fangs became more pronounced. She blew across my skin, and I became wet.
I wasn’t into girls, and Tiffany hadn’t been either. But vampires ran to type. Guys to guys, girls to girls.
Tiffany had struggled with it at first, but as she “matured” over the first few weeks, that changed too. Again I was supportive, or I tried to be. But then things between us had started to change too.
It had started with catching her looking at me. Lingering glances. She’d turn away blushing. Awkward pauses in our conversations.
But I rationalized. This was just how she was now. We were still ok as friends. As long as she didn’t act on those feelings.
... Like she had acted on them tonight.
I felt so helpless. So terrified. Standing there barefoot and topless, my hands glued to the door while my best friend breathed in my ear and cradled my breasts. I hated this, didn’t want this, but I was transfixed by her eyes. And despite the hammering of my heart, my body was electrified by her touch.
Then she bit me.
I gasped out loud, overwhelmed by the sensations. By the feelings.
It hurt. Her teeth bit into my skin, tore into my flesh. Agony shot through me. I whimpered.
But it also felt so damn good. Above the pain, woven through it, pleasure rippled outward from my neck through my body. Tiffany closed her lips over the wound and drank. I jerked. I moaned.
She drank deeper.
She dropped one hand and dug into the front of my jeans. She wrapped her arm around me and squeezed my breast. I lost myself, shaking and screaming in ecstasy.
I must have blacked out, because I came to sitting on the floor, my back to the door. Tiffany knelt just in front of me. Her eyes were conflicted, worried. But her body was relaxed. Sated.
I lifted a shaking hand to my neck. The skin was slick with saliva and blood, but was smooth. The wound already healed. But I still felt torn inside. Stained. I pulled my hand away from my neck and looked at my fingers. They glistened in the fluorescent light of the bathroom.
I started crying.
“Shhsh. It’s ok. It’s ok.” Tiffany said. She took my hand and licked my fingers clean. She looked at me with eyes full of both lust and sorrow. “It’ll be alright.”
But I knew. I took my hand back and cupped my throat, and felt an answering throb between my legs.
I knew that I would never be able to forgive her. That our friendship had changed forever. I hated what she’d done. But I also felt more bound to her than I ever had as her friend. I knew that she would need to feed, and that I would never be able to stop her. That I would let her do it to me again. Anytime. Anywhere.
And damn me to hell, I knew I would love it. Every single time.