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Ara Van Helsing always remembered the first time she had dreamed of him. As a child and into her teen years, she had followed her mother, Mary, into the abbey many times. Most days her mother kept a close eye on her; however, on that day she was distracted. Ara had caught her mother muttering to herself, Mary's back turned, and with a smirk, a then 16-year-old Ara wandered off by herself. She heard the gentle whispers, and unable to make out more than a soft mumble followed the direction of the noise seeking the source. Venturing down into an open vault, she found herself faced with a large silver coffin. She walked around the box but found no latch. Running her hand over the crosses that sat atop the lid, she hissed in pain when a sharp edge caught her palm. Pulling it back, she found a deep bleeding wound, and clutching her hand, she fled the room seeking her mother. The first dream came that night as she found herself back in the coffin room only this time the lid was open. Her curiosity got the best of her as she padded quietly around the room on bare feet. Peeking inside, she found it empty and let out a sigh of relief, her hand coming to rest on her throat, a smile of embarrassment over the scare she’d given herself even if no one else had witnessed it.
“Does it truly terrify you, what might have been in the box?” came the rich soothing voice from behind her that made her gasp in actual fear this time.
Spinning around, she saw him. He was tall with wavy black hair and piercing blue eyes. He was dressed in black from head to toe. “Who are you?” she managed to squeeze the question past the fear catching her breath, her voice no louder than a whisper as her heart speed up.
“A friend,” he softly tells her, getting a look at her. She was stunning with her long brunette hair that lay in curls about her face, cascading over her shoulders, while her green eyes shone brightly in the muted overhead light. Neither the grey of the stone walls nor the starkness of the lighting prevented him from seeing the overwhelming beauty before him.
“Of my parents?” she questions knowing neither of her parents would let anyone, even a friend, into the abbey alone to freely wander.
“Perhaps of yours,” Dracula gives her an old-fashioned bow, “You may call me Drac,” he introduces himself, his accent making the name sound more like Drake to her ears. Stepping closer, he can smell his blood running through her veins, he’d tasted it earlier when she’d bled down his prison, it held an essence he’d craved before, Mary. “May I ask precious, who is your mother?”
“Mary,” Ara tells him breathlessly on a sigh. He wasn’t crowding her, in fact, he’d left a respectable distance between them; it was she who had an overwhelming desire for him to be closer. “Mary Van Helsing. I’m Ara.”
His grin was roguish as he brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I see,” he tells her, his voice sounding pleased.
“Is this real?” she asks him, voice still soft as she looked up into his blue eyes, sure that she’d see a hint of red but then she’d blink and it would be gone. This all felt like a weird dream that she liked but scared her too.
“Do you wish it to be real?” he counters, his fingers moving from her hair to cup her chin, tilting her face up in order to search her stormy green eyes, fascinated by the multiple rings of grey-green that created their beauty and would give her such power when she accepted his gift, unlike her mother who had thrown it away and turned her back on him. He had no desire to allow that betrayal again and vowed to woo this female into loving him long before claiming her as his own.
“I don’t know,” she honestly replies, feeling a bit like Alice as she tumbled down the rabbit hole, end over end, hoping the falling would stop and praying you never hit the bottom all at the same time. “I’m afraid any moment I am going to wake up, and I don’t know if I want to because I’ll never see you again; although the thought of you being real terrifies me.”
“Perhaps then, I’m a dream you will have again,” he softly tells her, “Would you like that?”
“Yes,” came her instant reply.
“Then it shall be so,” he smiles at her pleased as he pulls her in for a kiss.
Jerking awake, Ara sat up in bed and instantly turned to click on the bedside light. Throwing back the covers, she checked her inner wrist for the bite mark that she could still feel from her dream. Her skin was unblemished, and she groaned clicking off the light. She flopped herself backward to find her pillow. The same words tumbling around in her head: Blood of my blood, all that I am is yours.
**********
Five Years Later
Ara just looked at her mother as she packed her bag. “You’re leaving? But dad is still gone. I have finals Mom; I can’t look after this place.”
“It will just be a few days, Ara. Your father needs my help,” Mary scoffs as she zips the bag and hefts it onto her shoulder.
“To buy an antique?” Ara asks shooting her mom an incredulous look.
“Yes, my darling girl,” Mary just smiles at her daughter, never telling her the truth about their work trips. She and Simon were still cleaning up the mess Dracula had caused 25 years ago, and it seemed that once again they had found another vampire. She had never told her daughter what they did, agreeing with Simon to wait until she had finished college to tell her the truth of it all, including her lineage and the truth of what the abbey housed. “Just close the door and lock it. It will look after itself for a few days.”
Later that night Ara couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning, she decided to just get up. Walking around the penthouse she found herself drifting downstairs to the vault. She knew the way; she had done this plenty of times since originally finding the room; although since that first night it was typically done in her dreams. The coffin was still as it was on the day she found it, only open during the dreams when he came to visit. She hadn’t tried to open it since the first time, but as she circled the table it sat upon, she slowly reached out and touched the cross that years ago had given her the scar that ran across her palm. Touching the circle designed into the meeting point and felt the small sharp point that had cut her and putting her hand over the whole thing she dropped her head with a groan. Walking away, her fingers pulled on one side, and she felt it move. Stopping, she wrapped her fingers around the cross and twisted.
The lid opened with a hiss and placing her hands on the heavy lid, she pushed up. Her heart stopped cold when she found Drake lying there dead. Her hand instantly went to cover her mouth as she took a stumbling step backward. Dropping the lid, she bolted from the room never seeing the hand that stopped it from closing. She stopped on the roof, the cold night air clearing her head and slowing the beating of her heart. She leaned against the railing and tried to slow her breathing.
“Ara, precious?” came the honeyed voice behind her.
Spinning around, she faced him once again, or was it for the very first time, she wasn‘t sure anymore. “This isn’t a dream,” she cries, as the tears started to run down her face, “You were in that coffin. Why were you in that coffin? How long have you been trapped there? Why would my parents do that do you? Because of me?”
“All that matters is you freed me,” Dracula tells her walking closer.
“How are you real?” she cries out, begging him to explain all of this.
“Ara,” he chastises, “You knew I was always real. I have waited for someone like you for an eternity. Someone like me, not made but born. Join me?” he holds his hand out for her.
“What are you Drake?” she demands.
“Have I ever harmed you, my love? Have you not trusted me all these long years? Trust me now,” he pleads in return and sees the moment she gives in to him as she grasps his outstretched hand allowing herself to be pulled into his arms. Holding her close, one hand like a band across her lower back, the other reaching up to her hair and forcibly tilting her head elongating her neck.
He laid a kiss upon her neck as he whispered, “You are mine, as I am yours,” and bit into her flesh.
Mary knew something was wrong as she looked around finding herself once again faced with a vision of Dracula feeding. When he pulled back, she found her daughter in his arms. “No,” she tried to scream shaking her head back and forth, “You are dead. I killed you.”
“Didn’t your father tell you,” he taunts leaning down to lick the blood off Ara’s neck, “I can’t be killed.”
“You can’t have her,” Mary tells him, her voice shaking.
“She is already mine,” he chuckles as the vision disappears.
Cradling the back of her neck, Dracula guides Ara’s head to his neck as he slices into his own flesh, “Drink love,” he orders her as he feels his own blood swell to the surface and begins to flow down his skin. He groaned when he felt her tongue flick against his skin catching the first drops chasing them back to their source before latching her lips around the wound and drawing his essence into her mouth.
They appeared in her bedroom as her mouth released him, and he kissed her deeply the instant she pulled back. He still had an arm cradling the back of her head and one around the small of her back now to keep her body pressed against him. This she knew, this she recognized, as Drake had loved her in the dreams they had shared. Although, the reality was so much better as her body demanded to be touched, kissed, and wanted, as his power grew inside her, changing her to stand at his side for eternity.
He leaned her back and began to kiss down her neck, nibbling on the spot that only moments before had bound her life to his and causing her to cry out as it sent erotic sensations throughout her body like a passion she had never felt before.
As she reached to wrap her arms around his neck, the hand at her back released her sliding up her bareback dragging her nightshirt with him. He soon had her breasts in his hand, knowing how to touch her to make her moan for him as he ran his fingers across her nipples, lips moving back to her mouth. Her whole body pressed into his hand, caressing her for what felt like forever as her nipples hardened giving him more reason to stay and touch. Every second was ecstasy, promising more to come.
Standing her upright, Dracula tore his mouth from hers to pull her shirt from her body revealing her to his gaze. He took a moment to look at her naked form and resumed kissing her neck before moving lower and lower. As he kissed her breasts, he played his lips and tongue over each alternatively, keeping her longing for more of the desire only he had ever given her feeling her writhe under his ministrations.
Chuckling darkly, he knew what she wanted as his hand moved down to her leg and stroking her there before sliding his hand toward her inner thigh where he knew she was wet and waiting for him. He outright laughed when he felt her reaching for his hand and guiding it to her center, “Please,” she begged.
Her moan was exquisite as the pleasure exploded over her body, her head thrown back, her chest heaved more heavily into the vampire’s waiting lips as his fingers and hand rubbed up and down between her legs. He played his fingers around her vaginal lips, over them, between them. He pressed, he rubbed, he tingled...in her, on her...her vagina, her clitoris...and all the while, keeping her breasts firmly in his exotic power. And he began to move up, kissing the side of her neck, across her shoulders. He moved up, kissing just around her ear, over her cheek, and thrust his lips onto hers. The kiss was full, passionate, and she threw herself into it just as much as he did. She ran her tongue over his fangs. It was hard to keep the kiss for long, but she needed to moan. She needed to urge him on, to let him know vocally and with her body that everything he was doing was glorious.
She lifted her head to watch his hand tease her body. She moved her hips to let him know that she was more than ready. Instantly his hand pressed hard onto her bare clitoris. The sensation was so incredible, that she arched her back against the arm holding her up and yelped. Her body now throbbed with anticipation. Her muscles were tensing with every movement of his hand, which was steady and relentless. He wanted to make her cum. He wanted to feel her body release itself and her voice to echo in these halls. Within a few minutes, he was not disappointed.
But now, she wanted to repay the pleasure she was feeling. And since she had just come to orgasm, she could think clearly as to what she wanted to do. Without moving much, so he could continue to use his fingers on her core, she slid a hand down the front of his pants. His sex was fully erect in her hand. She wrapped her hand around and began to match the pace of his movements. He closed his eyes and rocked his hips in time with it. That's how they remained for a while, standing, masturbating each other, her in his arms. And while playing with her clit was turning her on, she wanted him to do a bit more. And just as she thought it, he thrust his two middle fingers deep into her womanhood. He prodded, he teased, and he pressed deeply into her. Now they were mimicking what they knew was to come soon. The feelings she was getting told her that this creature would treat her body well, and she would be relieved more than a few times before it was over.
Though she really, really didn't want to, she removed his hand from between her thighs. He pressed hard into her, but she insisted that his hand be moved. She placed her hands on his arms before she moved her hands down his muscular sides. Looping her hands in the sides of his pants, she slid them off in a movement.
She dropped to her knees and looked at his cock. She wrapped her hand around him and looked up at his face. He was grinning, just so slightly that his teeth showed over his bottom lip. His eyes—oh, those eyes—looked down. He knew what she intended and wanted to show her that he wanted her to do it. She worked him with her hand, then began to kiss the length of him.
“Watch the fangs, love,” he tells her as she kissed and licked up and down his member, feeling it throb more as he wanted her to insert him into her mouth. Slowly, she conceded. Soon, she was working both her hand and her lips around him. Surprisingly, the taste was sweet and slightly salty. Not altogether unpleasant. Slowly, slowly she worked so she fit more and more of his manliness into her mouth. He began to moan and move his hips into her. As she worked faster and faster, she could feel him tense. But she didn't want him to cum now. That would be a waste of an orgasm. She wanted that to be inside her. So, she pulled him out of her mouth. She looked up and said, "Take me. Fuck me. Love me."
He wasted no time. His hands had already been resting on her shoulders. Now they picked her up to walk her to the four-poster. He lay down beside her, kissing her neck and her breasts. His lips and tongue began to trace down her body. Normally, she would relish if he were to repay her for using her mouth on his body, but tonight she wanted SEX. She wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted to feel his body on top of her. She gently lifted his face to look at hers. "Please, I want you inside me. Now."
She didn't have to repeat herself. He quickly positioned himself with his hands on either side of her head. She reached down, spread her body to accept him, gripped his length, and pushed him inside her. Her body exploded with feeling, an intense, lustful, indescribable passion. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing his body against her breasts, feeling the length of him move in and out of her body. Moan after moan escaped her, even when he was kissing her. Not only had her body craved this, but this vampire was very experienced in pleasing a woman, specifically had grown experienced pleasing this woman over the last five years she had fed him and restored his health.
He moved just how she wanted him to, slow, steady, increasing in pace only when she moved her body in a way to signify it. He pressed hard into her, so with each movement of their hips, he crashed and crushed into her most sensitive of areas. It made the whole experience more incredible than she had ever thought sex would feel. She wrapped her legs around him, thrusting him hard into her to stay while she rotated her hips. He wasn't the only one in the room who knew how to please the other party. And the look on his face as he propped himself on his arms and moaned to show that he enjoyed the sensations she was making him feel. And she was feeling it too. His body brushed her clit; his penis rubbed around inside her. She released her grip and let him go back to setting the pace.
It was good to have him on top of her, controlling the situation. She didn't want to be dominant right now. She wanted to be controlled. His eyes and his aura made her want to be his slave; to exist only to please and be pleasured by him. Once again, he read her mind. He enjoyed the feeling of her fingernails digging into his back; however, tonight he grabbed both wrists with one hand and thrust them onto the bed above her head. She was now helpless and at his mercy. He leaned further back and pushed harder and faster into her body. She could feel herself tightening. She was going to cum again. Her body shuddered and she screamed aloud as she orgasmed, even harder than she had before.
Now it was his turn. She would take over the power. She rolled him over, never letting him remove his throbbing penis from her. She sat up straight on him and with her back perfectly straight, she began to sway her hips back and forth. He pressed hard and deep into her tight place, with all the pressure concentrated upward between her thighs. The motion and the strength of her were obviously doing the job they were supposed to. He closed his eyes and moaned a subtle moan as if he was trying to stop the sound. But she knew that this would drive the beast into throws of passion. She upped the ante. Without breaking stride, she began to add a forward movement to her hips. Now she was working all around his member with her body, feeling him move around inside her. He was so deep in that she could feel his package rubbing the lower part of her vagina. It wasn't long till she also had her head back, moaning and chanting a slow "yes, yes, yes".
She looked down at him. He had lifted his head and had been watching the movements of her body. The delight in his eyes at everything she did was thrilling to her. He wanted to watch her body. He thought that her body was beautiful. She could only imagine what it looked like with the candlelight flickering off her toned body. Increasing her speed, she began to work up and down on his penis, feeling every inch move in and out of her body and pressing hard down when she came down. He got the idea and matched her movements with a thrust upward into her waiting body as she reached the peak of her motion.
Every second increased the pace, in an accelerando of pleasure for both. As she got lost more and more into the sensation, she leaned back to scream another orgasm. Her body convulsed and shook. Her body longed to feel it again. Never had she been made to cum so many times, and she knew he wasn't done.
He began to sit up, never breaking a stride, matching her body stroke for stroke. He wrapped his arms around her back and forced her to wrap her body around him. She sat now, in his lap with that amazing extension of his body filling her. The intimacy of this simple position made every feeling even more incredible. She squeezed his body into her with her legs, and pressed her face into his, kissing him deeply, feeling the sharp fangs play with her tongue. Laughing when her new fangs nipped his lip.
He pressed her away so that she leaned into his arms and rocked her back and forth, so his swelling penis hit her within forwards and backward. There was again not a millimeter of his dick outside of her body. The depth with which he could fill her was incredible. Her body tightened around it, wishing to add an amount of friction to this movement. Using her legs, she began to slide up and down looking into each other's eyes. He knew what she wanted. She had been made to cum so many times, and surely, he was working on another, but now she wanted him to cum, to feel the ecstasy of his body explode within her. And she wouldn't stop until she got what she wanted. She told him this with her eyes.
He read the signs and sped up, making the sensations feel like lightning within her body. This obviously was turning him on to the point that he could not contain himself anymore. In a quick and powerful movement, he gripped her around the backside, lifting her off of the bed, he found them on the ceiling and thrust her body against it. Now he was slamming his body against hers with a strength he hadn't shown before. And it didn't hurt. In fact, the feeling of helplessness she had now was exactly what she was going to need for one more mind-blowing, earth-shattering orgasm. But she would hold out until he came. He HAD to cum.
She urged him on. She dug her fingernails into his back, she squeezed his body with her bare legs, she yelled and screamed with each movement. And the lightning came faster, his body thrusting deeper into her and pressing hard against her clitoris so that everything that he could do to pleasure her was happening at once. She began to move her hips in time, showing him that she could keep up with his strength.
It was the last thing that he needed. Quickly, he spun her back to the bed, crushing her body under his, arching his back, and holding her now. She felt his body begin to quiver. She could not contain herself any longer. In an explosion that she could not describe, she came again, attempting to work him into his orgasm. It worked. He came hard into her, and she felt all that build-up explode into her body. She had done her job. But Dracula was not done. His eyes flashed downward as she arched her back and threw her head back into the bed. Her neck was exposed; she was the perfect target. He threw his body down on her and bit her neck hard and deep. The feeling of him taking her, of his teeth deep in her neck. She was his. And in that thought, she came one final time before she lost consciousness.
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Ara awoke fully clothed, lying in the same bed they had made love in. She felt a bit weird, as if there was something different, she couldn't put her finger on. She was wearing a beautifully simple white gown that flowed down her body like it was made for it.
He was standing by the window, the night still casting shadows. "Glad to see you awake," he said in that incredible voice.
"You bit me," she began to remember, “I drank your blood...What...what am I?”
It was several moments before he turns to look at her, the grin on his face showed a handsomeness that few got to behold if they weren’t marked for death; however, for the very first time, he did nothing to hide his fangs as he tells her, “You are mine forever now love.”
