Next week kept him busy. Busy enough not to go out at night. Busy enough to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was still curious, but too exhausted to investigate Marie further. Then, one night, well past midnight a soft rap against the window woke him up.
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She looked famished, and stumbled heavily against him when he opened the window to let her in.
“Buffet is closed for tonight,” he grunted, throwing a long sleeved shirt quickly on. The girl stared at his throat longingly, then curled upon a soft armchair in the corner.
Minutes ticked by. He was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable. Every time she looked up from where she sat she clearly tried to avert her gaze, to look somewhere else entirely, but it took no time from her eyes to find him.
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“Why?” He asked.
“You didn’t die. I… I tried to be careful, but they always died. You didn’t.”
“I didn’t die for the first time, so you thought it would be okay to come for seconds?”
“You taste different. Metal. Too much of it…” She whispered. He snorted and unsheathed his claws, letting the silver of the moon to fall on them.
“Too much? I’d say there’s just about enough to get rid of you,” he said, stalking closer to the girl.
“I kind of doubt that…” Her voice came from behind him, cold breath tickling the side of his throat. The armchair was empty, and he could feel her hands at his waist, fingers smoothing over his shirt, her breasts rubbing against his back. Then she was lounging at the armchair again, staring at him, practically drooling. His claws slid back in agonizingly slowly.
“What the fuck do you want?” He asked.
“I don’t want to kill.”
“And I don’t want to start donating blood on daily basis. Find yourself a new donor.”
“I could… Make it worth your time…”
“I kind of doubt that.”
She was suddenly standing right in front of him, her breasts rubbing suggestively against him, her slender thighs wrapped around his powerful one, and she was nuzzling against him like a cat in heat.
“I still haven’t paid back what I owe you…” She purred, reaching higher and licking his earlobe. This close he could smell the death on her. Feel how cold and rigid her flesh was. He couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine.
“Of course this would be more… Enjoyable for you if you let me feed first. I assume making love to a corpse doesn’t rank too high on your list of pleasures…” He quirked his eyebrow.
“Making love? Jesus Christ… You’re a loony bitch. And how do I know you won’t just leave me with a fucking blankie and some OJ after you’re finished? I fucking paid you to have sex with me every time last week, and got nothing in return.”
Her palm clasped over his throbbing crotch and squeezed gently.
“So… It’s a good fuck you’re after, is it?” She whispered almost coyly. His eyes narrowed.
“It sure feels like you could use some… Tension relief therapy…” She purred, keeping the steady pressure, rubbing his cock through the denim of his suddenly all too tight jeans.
“But what is it that you want? What do you like? Why did you seek me out in the first place?” She asked, her questions more rhetorical as wicked gleam settled in to her eyes and her lips turned to a knowing smirk.
“You like it rough, don’t you?” She said increasing the pressure and the pace she massaged him. When he felt the need to move his hips, to respond, he snarled and shoved her away from him. She landed on to the bed on her back, her victorious giggle ringing in the air.
“Oh, please, mister… Don’t hurt me,” she crooned mockingly. That pleading, yet scornful moan made his resolve snap.
He grasped her from the front of her shirt and backed her against the wall, her back and head colliding with a sharp thud.
“I won’t hurt you. Much,” he grunted, tearing open her pants and shoving his free hand down, spreading her thighs, his fingers seeking her cleft that he found cold, but already slick and wet. She laughed when he yanked off what was left of her jeans and unbuttoned his own. She laughed when he forced his way between her thighs and entered with one quick thrust.
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She was enjoying it, eyes closed and her head thrown backwards, smooth column of her pale white throat bared trustingly. When he picked up the pace, dead on sure he would break her soon she just wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned little further from the wall, granting him a better access and leverage. She wasn’t supposed to enjoy. He pulled out, them rammed back in, through her anus this time. Her eyes snapped open and her head fell forward, her lips pulling back to reveal impressive set of ivory fangs on her upper jaw.
“My, my… You do like it rough…” She hissed, more amused than worried though he knew from the increasing scent of blood that he must have been hurting her.
“But as fun as this has been… There’s proper time for everything… And I’m hungry now!” She growled, grasping his hair and yanking his head backwards, her lips pressing over his jugular.
Her teeth piercing his flesh and his blood rushing forward to quench her hunger triggered him. He came with a sudden, almost painful flash of brightness, sinking slowly on his knees on to the floor, pulling the girl with him, shivering and convulsing as his body emptied in to her.
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He lay on the bed, weak but sated, warm quilt tucked around him, a glass of water on the nightstand waiting for the moment his hands stopped shaking.
“I told you that I’d make it worth your time…” He heard her whisper, then she was gone.
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