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Click-clack… click-clack…
Penelope hustled down the streets of Bloomsbury, the sounds of the soles of her slippers on cobblestones echoing around her. The carriage she took to the printers was gone from where she had left it, and she was in a mild panic over how she would get back to her family’s home in Mayfair. There wasn’t a hackney in sight, but perhaps if she headed toward a busier thoroughfare, Penelope could find one to get her home before it was too late.
Thump… thump… thump…
Another sound, one that hadn’t originated from her. Further away, but she could hear it. Penelope picked up her pace, cursing how the click-clacking of her heels was still as loud as ever with just a quicker tempo now.
There was an alleyway she could duck into, a shortcut to Guilford, where she would encounter more people, young lawyers and doctors stumbling home from the pub or even ladies of the night would be welcome. Anyone other than whoever was following her.
The second she turned into the alley, Penelope knew it had been a mistake.
The thumping was getting louder, closer. Whoever it was, they were in the alley with her.
The alley curved and opened up to a courtyard of sorts, and once she crossed it, she would be twenty feet from Guilford. Maybe she should make a run for it, but then her pursuer would surely start chasing her. Penelope doubted they would let her get to the street either way, so she took off.
She had nearly made it across the courtyard when she knew she was caught.
He’d wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards a wall, hidden from the street she was trying desperately to make it to.
“What’s with the rush, little strawberry?” said the man pushing up against her from behind.
“Get off of me!” Penelope growled. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Oh yes, I do,” he snarled. “Now be a good little strawberry and don’t scream.”
It was then it took over her. She had warned him, and he hadn’t left her alone. Penelope didn’t want to have to do this, but at this point, it was instinct.
With little effort, she straightened, standing upright and throwing the man clear across the courtyard. His body hit the building opposite them and crumpled to the ground. Lightning fast now, Penelope zipped to his side, and she could see what he looked like.
The man was fairly young, though certainly older than Penelope had been when she was turned, with blond hair and a beard. He was still alive. Penelope could hear the thumping of his blood pumping through his system.
Her fangs were out. Penelope had warned him, and still, he meant to harm her, use her, maybe even kill her.
And she was hungry.
“What in the bloody hell are you doing?!” the blond man shouted at her as he simultaneously winced, rubbing the back of his head that was lightly bleeding from his encounter with the wall. He was dazed, his eyes almost unfocused as he looked up at her, staring down at him menacingly.
She was small in stature, but her position above him was still intimidating. Her eyes blazed red as she lowered herself towards him.
The man trembled uncontrollably while she loomed above him, his position had gone from predator to prey so fast it gave him whiplash. He was about to open his mouth to speak when Penelope cut him off.
“What is your name?” she said harshly.
He sputtered for a moment. “Why should I tell you?”
She smiled, showing off her white fangs that glittered in the moonlight. “Because I’d like to know who’s about to become my next meal.”
He took a sharp intake of breath. “D-D-Debling. Alfred Debling,” he said quietly. “P-please, don’t do this. I’m a respected researcher, I didn’t mean any harm -”
Her eyes narrowed at this as she shook her head, tsk-ing in a way reminiscent of a mother scolding an insolent child. “Do you truly expect me to believe that Alfred?” She leaned down as he scrambled backwards, his back hitting the wall with nowhere left to go. “Is that really what you mean, or am I just the first one to finally fight back?”
“I - er - no, I mean,” he sputtered, clearly incapable of forming a plausible retort.
“I didn’t think so,” Penelope said with a smirk. “Well then, this is for any future ladies you may have intended on harming.“ With that, she dove forward, fangs bared, and sunk them into the soft flesh of his neck. She felt the vein thrumming beneath her tongue, the pulse fast and strong, spurred on by fear. The first taste was acidic and sharp, full of adrenaline and not at all what Penelope wanted, but she persevered, feeling the life slowly drain from the man as she feasted on him thoroughly.
By the time she was done, blood dripped from her lips in a brilliant scarlet standing in stark contrast to the creamy white skin of her chin. She stood above him, shaking her head slowly.
“That’s for anyone who came before me, who couldn’t defend themselves,” she said quietly, pulling her hood back up and moving slowly away from him.
She was just re-emerging from the alley, intent on returning home as quickly as possible, when she ran smack into a hard chest as she turned the corner.
She pulled back dazedly, looking up at the figure before her and gasping.
“Pen?!” he said with wild eyes.
“Colin?!”
He hadn’t meant to appear in front of her now. He’d been watching long enough to know her routine by heart. But today she seemed more vulnerable than ever. When her hack left, he began planning how to get her out of there and to safety. Then some excuse of a man decided to attack her, and suddenly she was in more danger than he had anticipated. He had to improvise.
That was what brought him here, bumping into her. With his casual charm he’d used since their first meeting, he said, “Pen, you shouldn’t be out here at this hour. Let me chaperone you home.”
He slipped his hand behind her back and guided her away from where he sensed the danger lay. Voices rose behind them: “She was wearing a black coat.” “She’s one of them.” “That poor man needs help.” He understood immediately, this was a distraction. Whoever was after her this time had a plan, and he had to stop it.
He scanned the street and spotted a narrow alley. Swiftly, he pushed her inside and found the arch of a doorway. Slipping her into it, he tucked her in front of him. She was so small that he could shield her completely from sight. He hushed her with his fingers against her lips. He tried to master his feelings as he held his hand there, pressed against those beautiful plum lips, and prayed he could save her from whatever came next.
Looking into her questioning eyes, he tried to convey safety. But ever since he’d received his mission five months ago, he had been losing his way. The target: a lady who had infiltrated London society, publishing a column under the name Lady Whistledown. A vampire of unknown origin.
The mission: eliminate. Do not engage.
He had planned to carry it out. The first night he studied her routine, searching for the right time to strike. But he never managed it. That very night she had found a lost little girl. He had almost stepped in to save the little girl, but he stopped, astonished, as he watched her take the child in, feed her, and reunite her with her family, with a kindness that stunned him.
From then on, he watched her every night. She never attacked unless provoked, as she had today. She fought only to protect herself or other women. She enchanted him, not just with her white porcelain skin, fiery red hair, or curvy figure, but also everything she did: how her words always stood up for the weak, or saving women from rakes.
He went so far as to introduce himself casually at a soirée. Since then, he had spent every evening watching her, dancing with her, cultivating the familiarity he thought he might one day need.
His organisation sent letter after letter. He stalled, then ignored them, until today. Now, he knows. They must have sent another hunter. Someone who would be after her and then after him.
His mind was racing. He was out of time. She had taken care of this one, but there would be others.
He knew how the organisation worked, he could run with her. But for how long?
Would they travel the world trying to outrun the hunters? Would she come with him?
He tried desperately to calm his rapid heartbeat as he let his eyes meet her quiet assessing gaze.
He gulped hard against the rising jealousy that the stained crimson of her lips and rose blush to her cheeks was not from him, had never been. But he wanted it to be.
Since their first meeting he couldn't stop the dreams of her lush body pressed against his as she drank from him. His blood heated in his veins. His clothes suddenly felt too hot and restricting.
He was certain his ears were burning red. Her chest rose and fell seemingly in sync with his own.
Could she sense it? His lustful thoughts? The wanting for her that heated his core?
Perhaps it was a sixth sense, detecting the pulsing warmth of their victims?
He tried to banish the thought. The popular propaganda that they were blood thirsty fiends. If her Lady Whistledown pamphlets had not changed his mind with its witty and compelling aim to dispel the false narrative surrounding vampires, her presence did.
She didn't act out of primal instinct. Always necessity, preservation. A smirk graced her crimson pout.
"So, you've known all along, Colin?" she said in more of a statement than a question. His instincts told him to retreat, find a way to charm her, free himself of the threat, but his body had another agenda. He leaned in.
"I suspect you have as well, Pen."
Her eyes warmed at the shorthand they had developed over countless interactions.
"Why didn’t you eliminate me as you have the others?" he queried.
"You did not approach me as they had," she answered simply. "Where are we going?"
"To my lodgings. They knew your route to the printers, they know where you are staying. It is safer for you to stay with me."
He knew she could protect herself. Knew that it was he who was not safe, but he didn't care. He would offer protection, his heart, his life.
As they entered his abode and silently made their way to his chamber, he knew she understood. The implications, the risks, the agreement they were entering into.
The fire illuminated her copper curls as she removed her cloak. He worked quickly to bare himself to her, fingers trembling as he removed his cravat watching the crystalline blue of her eyes flash ruby at the sight.
At her instruction he nearly tripped trying to get to the chaise quickly. His cock strained against his trousers as she came to stand between his legs. Her delicate fingers caressed the side of his face and trailed down his neck. A question in her eyes as she consumed him with her penetrating kiss.
Penelope straddled Colin’s lap, the satin of her skirts curtaining her center, pearlescent fangs peeked slightly over her crimson lips. Colin’s breath hitched as his palms slid from the length of her calves over the silk of her stockings until he reached the black ribbons that tied them to the plush landscape of her porcelain thighs. His calloused fingertips twitched in anticipation as he ran his thumb over her skin; it was soft, sleek as fine linen parchment and he ached to write his name over the expanse of her. “This will not.’’ He paused, swallowing thickly. “I mean to say -”
Penelope cocked her head; her red-ringed aqua eyes blinked slowly, fingers tracing a line from his stubbled jaw down the muscular cords of his throat. “Will not what, pet?” She purred as the pad of her thumb pressed against his carotid, shivering as she felt his pulse quicken.
Colin whimpered, mindlessly rutting into her, Penelope gasped, he was large, hot and erect, his cock straining against the ties of his breeches. “I will not become -” He paused again as Penelope growled and nipped at the column of his throat soothing the sting of her bites with soft kitten licks. “Oh, Gods, Pen. So good,” he groaned, pushing her away, his body begging for slight reprieve, he was close to cumming, cock throbbing. He gripped her chin dragging her focus away from his throat, “This will not make me….impotent. Will it?”
Penelope harrumphed. “Quite the opposite in fact,” she grumbled, frustrated by his impertinence.
Colin arched his brow approvingly. “You may proceed.”
“It is not permission I seek, Mr. Bridgerton.” Penelope smiled devilishly, shifting forward pressing her center against his clothed cock, grinding her hips in a slow circle.
Colin’s hands found her hips, stilling her with a slight squeeze. “What does it taste like?”
Penelope narrowed her eyes. “It varies from person to person, the last tasted of beets and barley. He will offend my pallet for a fortnight.”
“So a diet consisting mostly of vegetables makes the blood taste different from those who eat veal and such?” he asked, brows furrowing while deep in thought. “Do all of your kind feast upon …..”
“There are some who do not care much for the taste of human blood, they prefer instead to feast upon small creatures; rats, squirrels, rabbits,” Penelope said, scowling as she worked to free him from his waistcoat. “We call them Vasculartarians.”
Colin snorted.
“I prefer the sweet taste of a gentleman myself.” Her eyes flicked to Colin's thick hidden cock.
“I have a particular pallet as well,” Colin grinned. “I guess you could say I am a Vagitarian of sorts.”
Penelope rolled her eyes.
“Lie down,” he ordered, sliding down to kneel before her. Colin pressed against her opening with his thumb, his tongue sliding a wet stripe to her clit.
“Now this is a movement I can get behind.” She hummed as she wound her fingers through his chestnut curls. “Good boy.”
His first lick was slow, deliberate. She shuttered as his breath hit her inner thigh, his nose grazing her pearl.
“Fuck, you taste divine,” he choked out, before his tongue buried itself into her cunt.
“Yes, right there.” Her hand was still wound tight in his hair, pulling tightly as she guided him exactly where she wanted him–no–needed him.
He clearly wasn’t lying, about being a Vagetarian, she thought amusingly, as he expertly sunk two of his thick fingers into her center.
“Oh, yes, please keep going.” She found herself softly rucking into his face, her eyes falling shut as she approached her peak, almost embarrassingly quick. How was this simple human of a man able to undo her so fast? So thoroughly?
She was breathless, as she came, his name falling from her lips, her mind tunneling into this one moment as she crashed.
This man was intoxicating, she thought, as she finally caught her breath.
She tilted her head to look down at him, her mind turning and turning as he smirked up at her, a little pleased look upon his face.
“My turn,” she said, a devilish smirk coming to her lips. Faster than she was sure he could process, she was pressing him into the soft fabric of the lounge, falling to her knees before him.
His breath hitched as he looked down at her. Eyes dark and wide as she pulled the ties on his breeches. She kept eye contact with him, as she slowly slid them down his hips. He lifted his pert bum, to help wiggle them down his body.
Just as she knew it would be, his cock was thick and hard as it bobbed between his legs. Her small hands ghosted along the flesh of his thighs, his cock twitched as she ignored it.
“You know,” she said, settling between his parted legs, her fingers dancing lightly across his thighs once more.
“This is my favorite place to indulge myself,” she told him. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he took in what she was saying.
“It’s not very discrete, to suckle here.” Her fingers skimmed his inner thigh, right where his femoral artery was.
“It's faster, and less suspicious, and not to mention quicker, when I suck from the neck, but…” she trailed off, bending forwards, letting her lips press to his thigh, barely. She could feel him tremble beneath her.
“...but it tastes so gooood,” she groaned, her lips brushing his skin as she blinked up at him with pleading eyes.
“Will you let me?” she asked and he took another thick swallow.
“Huh?” he asked after a moment, clearly flustered under her soft light, barely-there touches.
“Will you let me have you,” she said, lightly licking his thigh, still maintaining eye contact, “here?” She licked him again, a little more insistent this time. “Will you let me have you here?” she declared, leaving no room for confusion.
She saw the moment her meaning registered on his face, was surprised when his already dark eyes turned even blacker with want.
“Gods, yes,” he groaned as she let her fangs scrape over his skin. “Yes, darling, you can have me anywhere, everywhere.”
Penelope paused, her heart stuttering both at the endearment and this beautiful man’s willingness to put his life in her hands. It had been months now, that they’d danced with and around each other, months since she’d realized what he was, months since she’d put her life in his hands–willing to sacrifice her own immortality for a little bit more time with him.
“What is it, Pen?” he asked, tilting her chin up so he could look her in the eyes.
“It’s nothing,” she lied with a shake of her head. He cocked his head and a second later, pulled her from where she knelt in front of him and back into his lap, tenderly tucking one of her copper curls behind her ear and placing a reverent kiss on her nose that would have been out of place if this were any other time, any other man.
But this was now, this was Colin.
“Maybe I should have said this before we started, Pen, but you should know how much I want you, how much I want this. I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you,” he said softly, pausing to press his lips to her forehead when a gasp fell from her mouth.
“Are you sure?” she whispered.
Colin pulled back and brought his hands to either side of her face, looking into her eyes. She saw nothing but earnest love reflected back at her as he nodded. “I want to be yours, darling. Until my heart stops beating and then some. With everything I am, everything I hope to be.”
Penelope caught the double meaning in his words, a tear dropping from her eye that he quickly kissed away.
“You’re mine,” she finally said.
“I’m yours.”
“I’m yours, too, Colin. Since I first laid eyes on you.”
He crashed his lips into hers, both of them laughing, relieved at the knowledge that their love for each other was returned. Their kiss quickly turned into a savage meeting of teeth and tongue as their passion was renewed. Colin whined as she maneuvered her way off his lap, though his protests were replaced with moans as she moved down his body–nipping him and soothing her bites with her tongue, careful not to sink her fangs in, not yet.
Once she was kneeling again, she peered up at him through her lashes. “Are you sure?”
“With everything, Pen.”
That was all it took for her to turn her head into his thigh once more, nipping and licking at the place where she wanted him. His hands floated into her hair, holding it back so he could watch.
“I love you, too, Colin,” she whispered just before she sank her fangs into his flesh.
Colin felt like he was floating. Like his body was floating in the warm waters off the Greek isles he had visited. Scents were delicious, the lights glistened, and then his eyes locked onto the flaming red of the beauty knelt before him. She was so peaceful, her fangs sunk deep in his thigh. Her bright eyes were the most incredible blue he had ever seen. Then, she pulled back, and licked the wounds.
“Colin? Are you OK? I didn't drink too much did I?” Penelope asked as her eyes scanned him, and she listened to his strong steady heart beat.
“What? I? No! I mean, that was incredible…” Colin was dazed, but no worse for wear once he came back into himself.
“Oh good!” Penelope said as she moved to eye his painfully hard cock.
“I was worried I wouldn’t be able to continue…” As she said this, her small hand moved to grasp him firmly. Her tongue travelled from base to tip, gathering up the precum that had already dripped down his shaft.
Colin’s eyes were glued to her, held captive by the woman that had plagued so many of his dreams recently.
As she worked her head down, swallowing more of him into her tight warm mouth than she physically had any right to be able to, her eyes snapped up to meet his. Her gaze held him in such a state of thrall at her beauty, he nearly forgot to breathe.
He sputtered and coughed as his brain was finally able to break the trance. “Pen, you do not need to…” though his attempts to protest were met with the feeling of her free hand slipping gently into his larger one.
As she pulled off of his length, she gathered her hair and brought his hand up to hold it. “I want this…”
Colin took this action to mean she would like him to set the pace, and use her mouth, fuck her face, take from her any and all pleasure he desired. And that is exactly what he did.
Forcing her down, he felt himself hit the back of her throat, and a spark lit in her eyes. He was merciless as he chased his pleasure, getting harder still as he noticed a tear rolling down her cheek.
As he came he made sure she had no room to pull off, shooting down her throat with a growl.
Penelope felt his hand go slack in her hair as he slouched back onto the chaise, causing her to sit back onto her heels and draw a finger to her lips to gather a bit of his spend that had spilled out as he went soft on her tongue. Gathering it onto her finger, she held his gaze as she coyly sucked it clean.
“So, Mr. Bridgerton, now that you have me, alone and helpless in your bachelor lodgings, what exactly do you plan to do with me?”
“Do I… truly have you?” he dared to inquire with his voice flirtatiously low.
Penelope gave a little scoff. “Colin, I have laid myself bare before you, and still, you harbor a shadow of doubt? Come on, now darling, please…”
“It is not that I–” Colin faltered. A sharp twitch pulled at his eye. What is this? Impossible. His breath hitched and soon, dizziness seized him like a sinister fog clouding his mind.
“I…what–what …in the Gods’ name…is happening?” One hand clutched at his temple, the other braced against the chaise. His posture became unsteady and his gaze shifted from hunger to horror as his body seemed to rebel.
Penelope stilled, her own eyes widening as she saw the change in him, as though the very air had soured all of a sudden. The weight of realization hung heavy between them. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“You…” he breathed, voice ragged, torn between accusation and fear. “You…” His chest rose and cut into jagged rhythms until his gaze fell upon his leg. There, he saw the two punctures, unmistakable, cruel in their precision. They glowed in the light, throbbing with a sickly radiance.
Penelope’s lips parted as she saw the colour drain from his face. “Colin, tell me, what’s wrong?” Her hand reached for him, but he struck it away, albeit weakly.
“What…have you done to me, Penelope? You’ve…you’ve made me ill.”
“I…I did nothing beyond what was required,” Penelope stammered, rising unsteadily. Her hands half-lifted as though to aid him.
“Required? What do you mean by that?” His voice, though faltering, carried the sting. He pressed his fingers to his skin, attempting to feel his pulse. She is still Whistledown, you fool!
“Colin, look, I–I am sorry. I am not sure what is happening to you, but this…is novel to me.” She bit her lower lip, faintly tasting the iron. What was she to do? She had never faced such consequence… never felt the aftermath of this reckless hunger as it was her first time. Her first time to draw from a living man who also happens to be her first love. Did she do it wrong? Did she suck too much? Was this the kind of effect she had on him? How dreadful! And yet, it had all unravelled so swiftly, it left her in disbelief. “Colin, do you need water? Maybe some water could be of help?”
“There is… a pitcher… near the dresser,” he managed to say, while cold sweat trickled down his neck.
“Near the dresser,” Penelope echoed softly. Her eyes darted around the dim chamber until at last she spied it. She seized the vessel, poured some water into a waiting glass and returned it to him.
As if to underscore the horror, their world was further intruded. A sharp neigh of a horse and the grind of a carriage wheel upon cobblestones were soon heard. Colin noticed it faintly but to Penelope, her blood quickened and her heightened hearing struck like a blade.
“They are here.”
Colin froze. “Already?”
She nodded, every nerve in her undead body alight. “Carriage wheels, four riders at least. They’ve stopped out front. Your brethren have come, Colin.”
Panic surged as he lurched to his feet, hastily pulling on his breeches and coat. He caught her hand and pulled her towards the back stair, pausing only to grab the leather satchel on his desk. “There’s a hired hack waiting. Come.”
They walked towards the plain carriage that awaited them. Colin all but shoved her inside, following at her heels. Once the door shut, he fished out a book from his satchel and began riffling its pages.
“What are you looking for?”
“Answers. I believe I know why I reacted so violently to your bite. The Council has invoked the ancient oath, my mark glows and pulses.”
He bared his forearm, revealing his hunters tattoo: a compass, the needle pointed at her. Now, glowing, pulsing.
Penelope’s eyes widened.
“It is our tether,” Colin said hoarsely. “When it burns, reason falters. It drives hunters to see your kind as nothing but prey, to slaughter without thought. And if mine glows—then others will soon be chasing you like hounds.”
“Then why haven't you killed me yet?”
Colin gazed at her softly. “Because I love you.”
Her lips parted, her eyes misted and the world seemed to still, when he reached for her.
Their mouths met in a fierce, desperate kiss born of terror and devotion entwined. She tasted salt and iron, his human warmth pressed against her undead coldness, and yet never had she felt so alive.
After they parted from their kiss, Penelope found her voice first, soft, shaken. “You cannot protect me for eternity, though, Colin.”
His jaw tightened. “I know. But I can ensure that you're unharmed till I breathe.”
She laughed bitterly. “You think the Order will allow it? That compass seared into your flesh says otherwise. It will drive you to the brink, strip your will until you are no more than their blade.”
“Perhaps. But even now, when it burns the hottest, I look at you and see not a monster, but the woman who leaves bread for hungry children. The woman who risks exposure each night to spread words that topple the proud.”
Her breath caught. No one had ever seen her like that, not even herself. “Colin… you’ll damn yourself. They’ll call you oathbreaker, traitor. You will lose everything.”
“Then let me lose it,” he said fiercely. “What is duty, if it costs me you?”
She shook her head. “And if the Mark wins? If you wake one night and all you can see is my undead heart to sink your blade in?”
He looked straight in her eyes. “Then find a way to stop me. Better your hand ends me than theirs.”
“You ask for a future the world does not permit. Love like ours is an impossibility.”
He leaned closer, his breath warming her lips. “Then let us make it possible.”
Eyes glistening with tears, but no answers in sight, she cupped his cheeks with both hands and kissed him with reverence, knowing their time together was bound to a painful ending.
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips then muttered, “and I am not giving up, ever.” She secretly wished her love could take away his pain as she locked eyes with him, pressing their foreheads together. “Promise you won’t either!”
“Promise,” he murmured, pulling her close, kissing her back to seal their vow. To fight until their last breath for each other, praying the time of the Mark never prevails. Every peck evoked a desperate need for more, each taste of each other's lips another temptation to mark, each tongue stroke against the other a hungry cry to claim.
“You’re my whole world, Colin!” she confessed breathlessly, and it was surreal how much she needed him to know the depth of her love. Before they ran out of time.
“And you’re mine, Penelope!” he groaned between kisses trailing down her neck.
Hands fisting in his hair, she tilted her head, surrendering. “I don’t want to live in a world where I have to fight you, let alone hurt you.”
Colin froze, shifting backward abruptly in. “What if…you didn’t?”
Startled, she managed, “What if I didn’t what, Colin?”
“You didn’t have to live in a world where we had to fight or hurt each other,” he asked sincerely.
“Please, Colin, stop this cruel, mysterious teasing!” She pulled back this time, her hand slipping from his hair to his cheek, eyes pleading for his mercy. “My heart can’t take it.”
“But what if…” he trailed off, reaching for the book, frantically searching it. Penelope watched him patiently, noticing how he winced in pain, rubbing a thumb over the pulsing compass on his skin. He tried to brush it off as nothing when he noticed her studying him, but she knew better.
“Charmádh ” he pointed at the map. “It’s half-a-day’s carriage ride away.”
“You…you want to go there? Now?” She couldn’t hide the worry in her voice.
“The witch of black magic lives there. She owes me her life. If someone knows a way out of this world…” He looked up at her, only to find her panicked expression. “Are you…afraid to stay in a confined space with me for so long, love?” His soft voice soothed her, despite his doubtful words. “You needn’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”
“I…I know…I just, it’s not that–” she tried to explain.
“Because you’re going to tie me up,” he spoke firmly, then ripped a piece of fabric off the bottom of her skirt, offering it to her.
She gasped, heat flushing her cheeks. “You…” she swallowed, slowly blinking with wide eyes, “you want me to tie you up…for the whole carriage ride?” Her voice held a teasing lilt despite the gravity of the situation.
“It’s a long ride ahead, my love,” he caught on, smirking.
“Indeed.” She took the piece of fabric, biting her lip.
As the carriage rumbled along, Penelope’s eyes were drawn towards the fabric wrapped around Colin’s hands. She stared at him, her fangs peeking out and catching on her bottom lip. Her hunger had been satisfied, but now there was an entirely new hunger burgeoning within her. One for the flesh.
She was never very good at resisting her hunger. And Colin was so delectable.
“Are you alright, my darling?” Colin asked, bringing her out of her thoughts. Her eyes swept over his messy form; his windswept hair and high cheekbones flush with that beautiful blood coursing through his veins.
“Perfectly fine,” Penelope replied, staring at his hands. The blood was rushing through his wrists, hurried by the tight bond holding his hands together. It had only been around thirty minutes since their carriage departed, and already Penelope was about to pounce on Colin and suck him dry. She fanned herself, looking out the window and watching the countryside.
Colin shifted in his seat, his binds straining against his muscles, and Penelope swallowed roughly as she pressed her thighs together. They were in a moment of life and death, a brigade of vampire hunters nipping at their heels, but all of that faded away at the sight of Colin.
Penelope kneeled, taking Colin’s breeches and untying them. Colin stuttered, his eyes going wide as he stared at her. “I cannot take it anymore,” Penelope muttered.
“I do not think this is the time—“ Colin groaned as Penelope pulled out his thick cock, the tip weeping with precum. He writhed against his bonds, but was unable to move. Penelope looked up at the sharp line of his jaw, his flaring nostrils as he tried to control himself, his pupils swallowing his irises as they betrayed his lust.
“If we are to die, I do not want to go without having you fill me,” Penelope rasped, fluttering her lashes. “I want all of your love, so if the Mark wins, I will pass happily.”
“Do not say such things,” Colin hissed, looking at her intensely. “Our love will conquer all.”
“Then let it conquer me.” Penelope slid her hand over his cock, her core clenching as Colin groaned loudly. His member twitched in her hand, and she smiled. She saw his healing wound on his thigh drip some blood, and she licked it up. Colin shuddered, his body jerking towards her. She climbed atop his lap, shifting so she sat comfortably atop him, and Colin looked up at her with something akin to awe. She had never been looked at that way, as if she were a goddess.
When she slowly sank on him, Colin made a whimpering noise, his thick thighs moving to accommodate her. Penelope gasped as his cock breached her cold cunt. To her surprise, he did not wither from the temperature, but surged inside her. She wiggled her hips to sink deep, and he gasped loudly, throwing his head back for a moment and panting.
She writhed on top of him and Colin fought against his constraints, eager to stroke her long tresses and pull her closer. He could not think straight, his head and heart were clouded with the pounding rhythm of Penelope, Penelope, Penelope. He wished to stay in this moment of deep, aching connection but knew it was impossible.
Because Penelope would live forever and he would die.
Would she find someone else? Was he even her first love?
It mattered not. He would be her last.
Perhaps not tomorrow, perhaps not next year, but eventually he would die. And Colin knew that not even black magic could keep him by her side forever.
No. For the only one who could keep them together was currently astride his cock, kissing down his neck, whispering naughty promises into his ear.
“Penelope,” he breathed. “Penelope, please.”
“Hmm,” she hummed into the column of his throat, the vibrations shooting straight to his erection, wrapped in her heat. “Do you wish to be free from your constraints? Test your willpower?”
His hands jerked against the fabric and he flexed his fingers, numb from disuse as he fought for concentration against her wicked machinations. “Penelope, darling,” Colin gasped.
“What is it, love?” she murmured against his cheek, blissfully unaware of what he planned to say. Of the request he was about to make.
“Change me.”
Penelope pulled away from him with a gasp. “What?”
“Change me, let us bypass the Mark, the witches, the Order - everyone. Let me be with you, forever,” he pleaded, tears forming in his eyes.
“You do not know what you ask. I cannot ask you to turn away from your Order, your family. It is a lonely life, wandering the world only looking for your next meal.” Her eyes glittered bright blue even in the dark carriage and he wished he could wipe away the tears that fell down her porcelain face.
“But it will not be a lonely life for we will have each other.”
“You are quite serious?” He nodded. She bit her crimson lip as she considered him. “Then I will do it.”
Colin let out a disbelieving laugh and ignored the burning pain from his Mark, for he knew the pain of leaving Penelope would far surpass whatever pain the Order inflicted on him.
“But first,” she wiggled against him, eliciting a deep groan, “let me have you once as a human.”
It was hardly a price to pay, he thought as she blinked at him with wide, almost innocent eyes. Colin rolled his hips underneath her and watched as pleasure moved through her body.
“Kiss me, darling. Let me love you before we step into forever.”
She dropped a tempting kiss to his lips, just a tease of what was to come and smiled mischievously. “Shall I remove your constraints?”
“No,” he croaked. “Take what you will from me, my love.”
Penelope cradled his head in her hands as her eyes darkened. She smirked, wicked and alluring. Colin recognized that look – similar to the one she would bestow upon her victims shortly before they met their demise. Though, at this moment, it was hungrier. Needier. Only for him.
“As you wish,” she whispered against his ear, giving it a little nip. A shiver rolled down his spine.
She moved slowly, grazing her lips over his smooth neck, then dragging the sharp points of her fangs across his pulsing artery.
“I’m so looking forward to this,” she purred.
Colin gulped. The very idea of what he just agreed to should be terrifying, but the prospect of forever, of knowing her inside and out, of quite literally being one when their bloodlines combined, was profoundly thrilling.
“As am I,” he breathed.
Penelope pulled his bound hands over her head so his burly arms surrounded her. Her nimble fingers released the top button of her cloak, then another, baring more of her ample bosom to him as she went.
Colin had been hoping to release her from that restrictive cloak since the very moment she hastily threw it on during their rush to the carriage. Colin wondered, “Can you read minds?”
“No,” she simpered darkly. “But, I can read your eyes.”
He chuckled. Fair. He had been rather indiscreet about his leering.
Colin leaned forward to press his lips to her plump porcelain skin, just above the edge of her bodice.
“Colin.” The warmth of his breath fueled her hunger. Lifting her hips and sliding back down over his cock, they both moaned, loud enough where the carriage driver would surely hear.
“Take me, Penelope.”
She moved with purpose, rhythmically gliding over his swollen manhood. Colin pulled her tighter against him and buried his face in her neck. Sucking a bloom of red into her creamy white complexion, he mimicked precisely what he wished for her to do to him.
“I need you to touch me.” Penelope spoke frantically as she pulled his arms back over her head, biting into his restraints like a ferocious animal. With his hands freed, she could hear the blood as it rushed back into his fingertips. It was almost enough to be her undoing.
She guided his hand beneath her skirts until he found her clit and began rubbing it briskly.
“Colin! Oh…Yes!” she cried.
“Pen…I’m…I-I want you to…” He was utterly blissed out, lost in her climax while he teetered at the precipice of his own. “Please!”
Penelope continued to thrust, swallowing his cock with her cunt as he begged for release.
Raking a hand through his hair she tugged him back, exposing his neck.
“I need to know you are certain.” With remarkable self-restraint, she waited for confirmation.
“Yes,” he whimpered. “I’m yours. My blood is your blood, Penelope.”
Pure ecstasy. Euphoria. Blinding pleasure wracked his body as she sank her teeth in.
Penelope bit him through his release as the hot evidence of his need filled her, harder and faster and more than he had ever experienced before.
Because he was with her.
Would forever be with her.
“Pen,” he murmured as she pulled away, placing gentle kisses on his eyelids and nose. “I am ready, darling.”
“You must drink my blood,” she whispered in his ear. “Just a drop.”
“Yes,” he sighed, mourning the loss of her as she slid off of his cock, fastening his trousers before settling back on his lap. Holding his gaze with her own, she brought her own wrist to her mouth, piercing her flesh.
“Does it hurt, my love?”
“Only a little,” she hummed. “Drink, Colin.”
Taking her outstretched wrist, his eyes lingered on her fresh blood that would grant them all of their desires before lifting her elbow and peppering kisses along her forearm and allowing his lips a moment to attend to her fingers. As their eyes met, he sucked the tip of each finger and slowly pressed a kiss into her palm. His tongue finally found her perfect wound as he lapped one drop of blood on her wrist, moaning as he sealed their fate and rewrote their destiny while the other hand of the woman he loved rested upon his cheek.
“Colin,” she sighed as they closed the distance between them and captured each other’s lips, their tongues mingling as he began to feel lightheaded.
“I believe it is happening,” he murmured into her mouth as she nodded against him, sliding off his lap to sit beside him and offer him her own.
“Rest here,” she said softly and his heart clenched as he laid his head down upon her thighs, delighting in her fingers raking through his hair, her nails against his scalp as the world began to darken and drift away around him. “Rest now, Colin.”
His eyelids fluttered closed for what felt like no more than a moment, but had surely been more if the placement of the sun when he opened them again could be trusted - the brightest day he had ever seen. He inhaled and smelled her sweet perfume, citrus and floral, and heard the crunch of the gravel beneath the horses hooves.
Sitting up, he found Penelope watching him, tears in her eyes as a grin spread across her face.
“How long was I asleep?” Colin asked, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close.
“About a day,” she whispered, nipping at the spot on his neck she had used to bring him to his release. Somehow, he found it even more pleasurable now. “I told the carriage driver to keep on driving.”
Colin sighed as he dropped his head, nuzzling his nose against her neck as he chuckled.
“How long would you like them to drive, dear?” he asked, dipping down to lick the salty essence of her from her skin.
“Forever,” she whispered as his fangs grazed her throat.
He was home.