The Prey of the Huntress Chronicle One

The Prey of the Huntress Chronicle One

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

She walked into the room and the fire wound down in the hearth, as if a cold draft had settled inside as she moved. Her eyes were gleaming, now brighter than the fire. And her face looked flush, like she had drawn the warmth of the flames within. She smiled and the heat extended from her, advancing across the room. She watched as his eyes lit up, soaking the warmth she offered like a sponge.

Summary

She walked into the room and the fire wound down in the hearth, as if a cold draft had settled inside as she moved. Her eyes were gleaming, now brighter than the fire. And her face looked flush, like she had drawn the warmth of the flames within. She smiled and the heat extended from her, advancing across the room. She watched as his eyes lit up, soaking the warmth she offered like a sponge.

Content

Submitted: June 30, 2013

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: June 30, 2013

A A A

A A A


The Prey of the Huntress

Chronicle One

 

Anya was born 200 years ago, in a small port town close to Savannah. She was 18, when her soon-to-be husband was killed in a naval accident. At least that was the official story. The truth was that she never even knew the man, not really. Her father had practically forced her into allowing the brute to court her and gave his full blessing when the man asked for her hand. Between the two of them, they had her whole life planned out, until the stranger intervened. Not a day passes that she doesn’t recall the only time she ever saw him.

She was riding her favorite chestnut mare, past the footpath and along the dunes. She rode down to the beach and hit the waves nearly head-on, then veered the horse sharply to the left to ride parallel with the water. She felt the spray on her face, it was windy and the sun had just peeked out from behind the soft white clouds as the sand beneath her glistened warmly. She urged the mare faster and faster, her heart racing as wildly as the beast she straddled. She could feel the taut muscles of the horse moving against her inner thighs, her dress hitched high around her middle. She got lost in the moment, but only for a moment, as she closed her eyes and tilted her face towards the sun. Just as she looked back up, she felt herself lean forward as the horse skittered to a halt. She felt a shiver run cold along her spine and her flesh prickled on her neck. Her dark hair fell into her view and as she went to swipe it from her face, she felt a hand catch her wrist.

“Come with me.” the stranger said, as she flicked her hair back and annoyingly struggled to wrest her arm free.

“I can give you what you truly want. Come with me.” he said, as he turned and left her astride her horse. Stunned, she watched as he quietly moved across the beach. Amazed, she felt herself slide from her mare and land softly in the sand. When she looked up, she had to scan far up the beach to find him and she felt her heart panic at the thought of not finding him. She dropped the reins and left her horse standing, all the while becoming consciously aware of the tingling between her legs. The sensation grew until it covered her body and she gasped as her muscles felt contorted in pleasure. She hit the ground, nearly sobbing from the first orgasm she had ever experienced, without using her hand. She felt her cum moisten the hair between her legs and trickle down her thigh. When she found her strength returning, she looked up in time to see him disappearing behind the tree line and she followed.

He turned her that day, after he had given her the best fuck of her life or death (depending on how you want to look at it), and she has been hunting him ever since. He instilled not only the lust for blood, but a lust for pleasure in general, when he made her a vampire. A consuming sexual desire that drives her uncontrollable search for complete and utter satisfaction is the story of her hunt. Here is the chronicle of her first encounter as the huntress.

 

Chronicle 1

Anya watched the small fishing boat come into view, the moonlight playing tricks on the turbulent water. Even though the storm had passed, the wind was still making the ocean churn violently. Her dark locks were wet through to her scalp and although the water was at hypothermic levels, she was not ready to come in from her swim. She had begun hunting at night, shortly after the stranger had left her. Her thirst for blood was overwhelming in the beginning. So far, she had been enchanting the locals on the small island and she used them to do various things for her, but mainly she used them as her life vein. She would pick and choose her victims at will and they would open themselves up to her, gladly. She would dine on them for hours and yet she could still feel the hunger, growing inside. No matter what she did, she could not tame the urges inside her. She had taken to swimming in the ocean. She found that she could survive off, not only human blood, but the blood of animals as well and it thrilled her. Animals were not enthralled by her, they always ran and it ignited her to embrace the hunt. She also discovered that she could swim as fast as the fish and she soon delighted in the chase as she often found herself swimming through the waves and well out to open sea. After her catch, she was amazed that she could smell her way home. It was on one of these “hunting trips” that she saw the boat. But, it was more than that; she could smell the young captain on board the small boat. As she lifted her head further out of the water, she caught the scent of him. She could smell the other smells as well, the freshly gutted fish and earthy aroma of rotting planks, the salt on the air and the seaweed that clung to her hair. This was sweet. This was different.

She dove beneath the water and darted towards the small vessel. She felt the water part around her naked skin as she neared the boat. Above her, she could see the moon waving through the water and the shifting outline of the boat as it came into her view. She swam around towards the back of the vessel and listened as the captain ordered his crew about. As she broke the surface of the water, she was immediately intoxicated by the smell of him and the sound of his voice was awakening desire she only knew existed with the stranger. Her hands wound tight around her, in reflex at the thought, and her legs parted in the water. She felt the sea stroke the softness between her legs and she almost convulsed with pleasure.

“We had a good day today, boys.” the captain said and from the water, Anya allowed herself to look up at him. His face was partly covered in shadow, but with her heightened senses, she could see him clearly. She didn’t recognize him. She knew everyone on the island, small as it was. She had made it a point to know everyone when she chose to call the island home. In the past six months, she had never discovered anyone new. She recognized the boat and the crew, though. The boat had belonged to an elderly sailor who had died soon before she came to the island. It had floated in the docks empty, the whole time she had been living there. It was a solidly built craft for its size and the decks could use a little scrubbing but it seemed in good repair, otherwise. A little paint and it would be good as new.

“We going out tomorrow, Captain?” one of the locals asked, eagerly.

“No, but I do want you all here, we’re going to get this vessel into shape. Prepare to be on your knees, boys, I want the decks scrubbed and a new fresh coat of paint on her by sunset tomorrow.” The Captain said, as he patted the sailor on the back and smiled. Anya ducked her head beneath the water and waited.

After the ship was properly docked and the last of the crew had departed, the Captain sat alone on his ship. Anya found herself climbing from the water to stand on the docks. She was wet. The water streamed in rivers down her breasts and stomach. She stood as the water pooled around her feet, slowly absorbing into the soft wood. The Captain hadn’t heard her come out of the water. He was standing at the helm, looking out on the moonlit sea, when she stepped over the railing onto his boat.

She stood there staring at his back, her nipples hardening as the cool wind rushed across her wet skin. She could hear his heart beating a soft and soothing rhythm. His breathing was a rushing sound in her ears and her head felt light as she took in his tall muscular frame. He turned around and she slipped from view, never taking her eyes away from him. She watched him move from the helm down the three steps to the main deck, where he stooped then stretched, yawning. He started humming as he turned toward the door to what she assumed was the Captain’s Quarters. As far as he knew, he was alone.

The deck was briefly bathed in yellow light as the Captain entered his dimly lit quarters and Anya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She moved effortlessly to the closed door and paused with her fingers on the handle. She felt the boat rocking gently beneath her feet as she listened to his faint humming from behind the closed door. She turned the handle and entered the room silently. From inside the cabin, she could see him at the far corner of the room. He was pouring water from a pitcher into a wash basin. She stood there in the shadows, naked, as she watched him bathe. He stripped in front of her, unaware of her presence. With every article of missing clothing, his body became more alive to her. When he was fully undressed, she watched him wet his hair down. She was mesmerized by the water as it streamed down his back and over the firm roundness of his buttocks. She drew in sharp breaths that made her lightheaded, as she smelled the soap washing the dirt and sweat from him. The soft light, from the lone flaming candle, cast an eerie glow just before she watched him snuff it out. She slipped further into the corner of the room as his eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight penetrating through the porthole. He then eased himself into the comfort of his bed. She listened as his breathing became softer and more rhythmic. She could still sense the lingering aroma of soap, but the smell of him was returning with a vengeance as she stood there in the dark. She let it fill her senses as she struggled to keep her hands from sliding between her legs.

When she could take it no longer, she all but ran to the side of his bed. He never stirred as she lightly traced his face with her fingertips. Slowly, she slipped the cover back and moonlight crawled across his skin. She could hear the blood rushing through his heart, slow and methodical, as she uncovered his chest, then his stomach. She paused for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall, the muscles in his stomach relaxing and tensing slightly with each breath. She could see the faint outline of moistened fabric on his pillow, a product of his damp hair. She lightly ran her fingers through it and he shifted, peacefully oblivious. She pulled the covers back until she could see tufts of hair peaking from under the soft folds of blanket. Her other hand found her own breast and she gently squeezed her nipple as a soft moan escaped her lips.

All at once, he rolled away from her, exposing his left cheek and pulling the covers, tightly, as he turned. Her hands let go of the blanket and her nipple at the same time, he had startled her. She almost laughed. She should drain him of blood and carry his corpse to her favorite feeding ground to bait her ocean prey. And yet, she knew she wouldn’t. She wanted his flesh as badly as she longed to taste his blood. She decided at that moment, she would have both, slowly.

She had left the cabin at that instant, quietly slipping through the door; she ran across the deck and dove off the side of the boat and into the cool waters below. She swam hard and fast out to the open ocean and hunted fiercely. She could not be satiated. So, she swam back home. As she was nearing shore, she saw a fire on the beach. When she got closer she could see a single human shape outlined, sitting on a piece of driftwood, tending the small fire. She was hungry.

She swam until her toes touched the sand below and then she walked the rest of the way onto the beach, straight into the light of the fire. Her long hair draped down her naked body and pulled slightly at her scalp. She moved it to one side and let it cover one of her breasts, leaving the other exposed to the warm firelight. She smiled pleasantly at the startled man she had intruded upon.

“Come here.” she said and waited for the local islander to do as she asked. She took in the full sight of her meal, as she had him undress on the sand. She watched his cock grow at the sight of her naked body. She looked up into his eyes.

“You will do.” She told him soothingly as she closed the distance between them, her nipple brushing the hair on his chest. She reached down with one hand and palmed his cock, while teasing his nipples with her flicking tongue. He tasted of sweat mingled with sand and sea. She was stroking the length of him, when she bit into the soft skin around his nipples. She teased the blood from him at first, letting the taste consume her senses. She bit down harder, little by little, sucking more furiously as his dick throbbed in her hand. Disappointed, she felt his seed hit her bare stomach and she sucked even harder, nearly draining him as his cum slid warmly towards the valley between her legs. She left him sleeping beside his fire, alive, though in need of rest, and returned to her home, still not fully satisfied in her thirst for blood and pleasure. Tomorrow, the Captain would be hers, she thought, acutely aware of her aching need.

***

Anya was back at the docks as the first light of morning began peaking from the east. She looked down, keeping her face in shadow. Even though the sun did not burn her vampire skin, her eyes were especially sensitive to the light, seeming to absorb the sunlight as they grew fiery like amber. The first time she had witnessed the phenomenon, it had startled her.

She had been out about mid-morning, the day following the visit by the stranger. Walking along the beach, she was keenly aware of her surroundings in a way that was completely foreign. She could hear the birds flying toward shore, spot boats miles and miles out to sea. She could taste the air and it tingled on her tongue. She could smell the fish and crabs being prepared in the village for the noonday meal. She was alive in ways she never imagined and she loved it. She had felt strong, yet surprisingly, apprehensive. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, but it didn’t penetrate, not fully, and it unnerved her. The night before had been terrifying for her as she succumbed to death and then accepted her new life. But she had gotten over it, quickly. Everything had happened quickly, at first. Then time had slowed to a crawl and she tired of everything, except the hunt.

But, on that first morning as a vampire, the tide was low and there was a biting wind blowing from the northwest. The cold soaked her through and yet she didn’t feel it, seeming only vaguely aware of its presence as it did not affect her. She stood in a small pool of water, left in the divot of sand by the tide. She was facing the ocean, squinting at the sun, with her arms outstretched slightly from her side as the wind wrapped her hair around her neck. She stood that way a few moments while it pushed against her. As the wind died down, she let her head tilt forward and widened her vision. With the wonder of a child, she stared at her reflection and was amazed that the eyes staring back at her were her own, except that they weren’t. They were alien to her. They were exotic and the color was a dance of flames. They were vibrant and wild and beautiful. But they weren’t human.

And so she kept her head down, as she made her way down the row of fishing boats, focused on her hunt. She wanted him. She wanted to taste every inch of him. She wanted to take his cock in her mouth and swallow him. She wanted to taste his blood as he buried himself inside her. Her want of him was a painfully sweet sensation that made her feel alive. She reached the boat just in time to see him coming from the cabin. She did not hesitate; she leapt onto the boat with ease. She saw his mouth part in what she thought was amusement. She slipped closer to him, stopping about a foot from him.

“Stand there.” she said, instantly enthralling him with the sound of her voice. She watched him obey and it excited her. The patience she had up until that moment was lost as she slipped out of her satin dress to stand bare before him. She watched his eyes fill with desire. She stepped in and wound her arms around him as she pressed her lips so hard into his, she could taste his blood, sweet on her tongue. It fired up her senses and she pushed him back towards the railing on the far side. She would have her prey. She dug his hard cock out of his breeches as she licked her tongue across his injured lip. She raised herself up, wrapped herself around him and nearly screamed when she planted herself on his manhood. The wind was spraying mist on his naked back as she struggled against him. She bit into his neck, once, twice, and a third time. With each bite, she could feel his cock throbbing within her ready to explode.

“Not yet.” she whispered into his ear as she watched the blood from her bites become thin in the rivulets of ocean spray forming down his shoulder. She licked at it, and felt his cock obey her too. She teased him as she moved against him, grinding. She arched her back away and his hands caught her and pulled her close. She returned the favor with a fresh bite. She sucked harder and deeper this time, intent on the throbbing ache as he pounded her against him. She could feel him weakening from the loss of blood, his heart beating, ever so slightly, slower. She sucked deep and filled her mouth from his vein. As she swallowed, she convulsed in mini tremors. She rocked back and forth through the waves of her orgasm as his cock grew harder and her pussy grew tighter. She wanted to feel his cum in her, at that moment. The thought of it was driving her wild.

“Cum for me.” she said in his ear, her voice thick, still in her quaking. And she felt him shoot his seed and her mind shattered. She collapsed her weight against him, her senses on fire around her. They returned to her fiercely, though, after a moment, and she could hear people coming out onto the docks, far away. She slid her legs down, slipped away from him and picked up her dress where she wadded it up in her hands. As she walked across the deck back towards him, she tossed the dress into his chest, and then dove over the side to splash in the water below. She could feel his eyes searching for her and she heard the faint sound of his recovery as he secured his cock back into his breeches as she swam back towards her dwelling, knowing a small hint of satisfaction.

***

The next day, Anya found herself staring out at the ocean from the end of the dock, her eyes trained for signs of her Captain. She had returned the next morning, even earlier. She planned to use the good Captain all day, until she was fully satisfied. The urges had returned stronger than ever and she knew how to stop them. But, when she returned, it was to find him and his boat gone. To say she was angry was an understatement. She scanned as far out as she could and although she had spotted several fishing boats, none of them belonged to her prey. She could not smell him, either, which meant he had departed sometime in the night. She stepped off the end of the dock and her naked form slid into the water below. She dove deep and shot out toward the far off fishing boats. As she neared the farthest one out, she became more determined with each boat that passed overhead. She was hungry and there was sustenance aboard the far off vessel.

As she neared, she could tell the boat was very small. The sail was down and there were nets cast, which she slid around on her approach. She could hear three distinct separate heartbeats on board. She made her way towards the loading side of the boat, found a rope tied to the rails to use as a foot hold and climbed.

“Would you look at that!” one of the fisherman exclaimed as she swung herself over the side. She landed nimbly on the deck. She didn’t even bother to enthrall her victim. She swooped in and caught him by the throat, so fierce was her appetite. As she bit into his flesh, she tore him open and the blood poured into her mouth like a fountain. She drank deeply, desperately trying to fill the void inside her. She heard his scream, which had caught in his throat, become guttural as he slumped in her arms. She was vaguely aware of the commotion, rising around her, a distant annoying hum in the back of her mind. She felt hands gripping her, but they may as well have been the fingers of the wind, so little attention she gave them. She drank her first victim dry and tossed his body over the side, where she heard it plop into the water. The hands of the other two men, pulled away from her, but one was too slow and she snatched him to her. She heard his screams as she brought him around to face her.

“Shut up!” she snapped at him and as she turned, she watched the third fisherman back away, throwing his hands up to protect himself. She turned back toward the man whose screams had been replaced by sobs and it disgusted her, so she snapped his neck and sent him over the railing to his salty grave. Her attention was now left undivided and she focused it on the only heartbeat left. She could smell his fear; he reeked of sweat and urine. She moved forward until she had him with his back against the rail. She laughed at him when he looked over the side and back at her. I hope you do, she thought. The look on his face was one of pure terror as he jumped the railing and fell into the water. She heard his splashing and then she heard the steady paddling of his attempt at fleeing. She lunged over the rail and landed feet first in the water ahead of her prey. As she surfaced, she saw him looking back at the boat for her, he never saw her jump. She shot through the water and met him head on. He turned just in time to see her, less than a foot from his face. She caught his throat in her fangs, he never screamed.

She watched his face as it disappeared into the depths below. He looked peaceful in death. Her death, however, was not peaceful. Her appetite for blood was fading for the moment, but her feast had left her wanting. She was on her way to faster prey; sharks and barracudas were her favorite because occasionally one got away. She lived for the hunt.  She was nearing her hunting ground when she smelled the Captain. She had come to the surface to scan the horizon, when she caught a faint hint of his odor. She knew he was near. So, she searched the open water in the direction his scent had originated and spotted her prey. Instantly, she dove under the water and began the hunt.

As she neared the vessel, she slowed, silently stalking the man onboard. He was alone and his boat was anchored. She found it peculiar. From the cabin, she could hear him snoring, softly. She climbed the side and landed silently on the deck on all fours. She sniffed the air and watched as the last rays of sunlight played across the wooden planks. She ran to the door and paused, listening to the steady beating of his heart. Her desire was growing and her prey was within her grasp. She stood there for a moment, relishing how her senses were tight and finely tuned. She could smell his freshly washed skin, his cum soiled breeches that lay somewhere behind the door, and the storm that passed to the east. She could hear the soft whooshing of his blood as it travelled through his veins, the flapping of the riggings, and the whale swimming a league below. She could see the single fibers of splintery wood that made up the cabin door, the bit of frayed yarn at the top of the wound sail, and the fish in the seagull’s mouth a mile to the west. So keenly alive were her senses that they threatened to consume her as she burst through the cabin door.

He awoke instantly and she smelled his fear. It was mixed with anger. Her eyes travelled to the fresh bandages along his neck where she had tasted him, again and again. His hand moved reflexively to the wound and she could tell he was trying to wrap his mind around his situation. She took pity on him.

“Don’t be afraid.” she said and the tension faded from his eyes. She watched as the fear ran away from him and relaxation settled into his shoulders, back, and limbs. She smiled at him as she crossed the small space in two strides.

She kissed him so hard that she reopened his injured lip. She drug him down onto the damp bed with her, his body resting on top of hers as she ripped the bandages away, exposing his angry red wounds. She licked at them as his tongue played with her earlobe. She felt him wince slightly as she sucked fresh blood from the bites. She grabbed his hand and forced it down to her pussy. She squirmed under him as he flicked her clitoris with his calloused fingers. His middle finger found her opening and she gasped in pleasure as she threw her head back. She wanted him to taste her.

Slowly, she pushed him down the length of her, letting him linger at her breasts as he suckled and she clawed at his back. He kissed her navel and she returned the favor by digging her nails deeper into his back. She urged him further until he had her legs spread, kissing her inner thighs. When his mouth parted and his tongue started licking the inside of her pussy, she moaned, softly and let him play.

When she had cum the second time, he began rolling her clit in his mouth, sucking harder and harder until she screamed out for a third time in pleasure. She then grabbed him by the hair of his head and pulled him forcefully upwards to rest on her chest. She could feel the stiff hardness between his legs and she pulled him into her, anxiously. He filled her completely. He moved back and forth, grinding into her until she was sure he must be raw from the friction. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him even tighter to her. She bit into the hard muscle of his chest and he rammed into her, even deeper, his shaft stretching her inside as he gave her all of him. When he was spent on top of her, she felt his cum moistening her inner thighs and she let her hand find his thickening seed. She wriggled underneath him, smearing it all over her pussy as he regained his strength.

“Who are you?” he asked, his lips brushing her ear. She didn’t answer. Instead, she flipped them both over, quickly, yet gently. She stared down at him, fixedly, from where she straddled him. She wiggled against his limp cock, smearing their mingled cum. She felt him stir beneath her and she placed her hands on his chest and pushed herself down his frame until her pussy rested on his ankles, pinning his legs below her. She leaned down and took him in her mouth, tasting them both on her tongue. It drove her mad and she sucked furiously as he hardened in her mouth. She heard him moaning as she stroked up and down his thick shaft.

“Who are you, woman?” he all but screamed as he shot his second load into her mouth. Anya let him slip from her throat, scraping her fangs lightly across the head, as it passed. She held his seed on her tongue and began spreading it up his lower abdomen as she licked from the base of his cock to his navel. He shivered and she fluidly brought herself up to straddle him around his middle again. She could smell the small punctures on his neck mixed with the smell of their sex and it was a sinfully sweet sensation.

“Be still.” she said as she leaned down and carefully placed her fangs inside the old wounds and drank him to sleep.

She couldn’t take the chance on him leaving her again, so she rolled down the small rowboat after placing his unconscious body on it. Once the boat hit the water, she turned around and doused the decks with lamp oil, struck a match, and dove over the side. She climbed into the boat and rowed them both away from the burning fishing vessel. She plowed through the water towards the island, moving quickly. The rowboat touched the sandy beach and she felt it slide roughly as it came to rest on the ground. It was still dark and there was a chill in the air. Although Anya didn’t need warmth, she knew her Captain did. He had lost quite a bit of blood and he was weak. She watched him shiver as she lifted him up. She kicked the boat back into the water, where she knew it would float out with the tide and then carried her prey homeward.

Anya laid her Captain upon her bed. She knew she had nearly drained him and his heartbeat was weak, but steady. He needed food, water, and warmth before she could feast again. She left him naked, underneath her blankets and went after the small deer she could hear softly munching on the island vegetation. When she returned with her deer, she listened to his soft breathing as she built a fire in the hearth and then retreated back outside to prepare her kill.

By the time the first rays of sunlight were warming the sand, she was carrying a large serving of the roasted deer into her bedroom. He was still asleep and she left the meal on the table beside the bed. The sight of her Captain, lying bare amongst the coverlets in her bed was nearly more than she could stand and she left the room, putting a little distance between them. She was drawing water from the well outside when she heard him turn over. She could tell by his breathing that he was on the verge of rousing from his sleep. She grabbed the pail and ran inside. When he awoke, she was there soothing him.

“You need to eat.” she said as he pulled himself up to rest his back on the pillows.

“What happened? How did I end up here?” he asked groggily, looking about the room.

“I found you on the beach.” she lied, enchanting him, as she handed him a glass of water. She waited as he eagerly drank the water she offered.

“There was a storm.” she said as she sat on the bed beside him. She cut the slices of deer into bite sized portions and held them one by one to his lips. She watched him chew each one and it aroused her senses. She would have taken him again, but she knew it would be too much, too soon and she enjoyed playing with her food, even if it meant her own sweet suffering.

“You barely survived as your ship broke apart around you.” She said and watched his mind form the false memory that played in slow motion across his face. She leaned closer and offered him more water. He drank a few sips.

“You need rest.” she said as she rose from the bed and added more wood to the fire. She knew if she didn’t leave the room at that moment that she would kill him in her efforts to satisfy herself.

“I’ll return later. You should sleep.” she said, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. She heard his soft snoring moments later and left him alone as she went after their next meal.

When she returned later she found her prey just as she’d left him, sleeping peacefully in her bed. She fileted the fish she had caught and set about to grilling it with some limes she had found growing near the village. She had enchanted the tavern owner for some wine and she used it to make a sauce to pour over the fish. She was surprised that she could still prepare such a meal even though she wouldn’t be eating it. She preferred her food alive. When she carried the tray up, she found him sitting on the bed. She could hear his heart, and it was strengthening.

His color was returning, but he still looked more pale than healthy and she was apprehensive about pushing him, so she left the tray beside his bed and left him without so much as a word. When she came back after the tray, he was snoring softly. He had eaten nearly all of the fish she had prepared and drank a quarter of the pitcher of water she had left him. And he had left her a present in the chamber pot. Slightly disgusted, she rid the room of the smell of piss.

After about an hour, she heard him sit up. She felt the thrum of his feet hitting the floor. His smell was permeating her home and she could wait no longer for him to recover. She listened to his heartbeat, from outside the door. It sounded much stronger and she felt the tingling go up her spine and into her brain. She wanted him. No. She needed him. And she was the Huntress.

She walked into the room and the fire wound down in the hearth, as if a cold draft had settled inside as she moved. Her eyes were gleaming, now brighter than the fire. And her face looked flush, like she had drawn the warmth of the flames within. She smiled and the heat extended from her, advancing across the room. She watched as his eyes lit up, soaking the warmth she offered like a sponge. She could feel the pain between his legs, he wanted her. Not yet, she thought, First, I will have my due.  He gazed at her from the four poster bed as she moved effortlessly toward him. She stopped, just out of his reach, and released the strings of her robe. She watched as his eyes followed the floating, nearly transparent, crimson fabric as it slipped down her frame and landed in a small pile around her ivory ankles. She was on top of him, before his mind had time to register that she had moved.

She raped his body and his mind in her need.

“Fuck me.” she said and he sank his dick into her wet pussy as moan after moan exploded from her lips. He drove her mad with his thrusting, seeming to dig deeper and deeper with each stroke. She bit into new flesh and drank sweetly as she climaxed in his arms, each small sip a fiery spark in her mind. His sweat trickled down his chest and fell on her breast and still she would not release him. He pounded her thoroughly and roughly and she loved every moment of it; the rawness of it, the heat of it. She was drunk on arousal and she wanted more.

She made him fuck her until her pussy dripped and puddled on the bed. She felt wild and feral in her need for him. He vaulted into her and crashed them both against the headboard as he filled her with his cum. She lay motionless while he rested on top of her, his cheek against her breast, his body trembling, and his cock leaking inside her. And still she desired him.

She slowly teased his neck, gently scraping her teeth along his wounds, old and new. She tensed the muscles inside her and spit him out. He rolled over her to lie on the bed beside her and she wriggled down and took him in her mouth and down into her throat.

She held him there, slowly twirling her tongue around the head of his soft dick. She sucked what little seed was left in his shaft down her throat and he struggled under her as his dick puffed in her mouth. When she had him hard again, she stood up on the bed, and planted her feet firmly into the mattress on either side of him and squatted until he filled her ass with his swelling cock. She gasped as the sensation sent her head swimming and she ground into him. She could feel the opening of her vagina contracting in response to the presence of him as his cock pushed along the thin inner wall that separated her pussy from her anal cavity. She grabbed his hand and directed it to her clit, where he rubbed it back and forth, softly smacking the soft flesh. He sunk three of his fingers inside her pussy and the fullness of it sent her into fits of ecstasy. She melted into him, when she felt his load sliding around his dick and out of her ass to thicken down around his balls. They trembled together for a few moments as she licked at the blood dripping slowly down his neck, staining the pillow below.

She held him captive for six days as she sucked the life from him over and over again. She fucked him. She fed from him. Draining him and reviving him until she could no longer use him. Then she left him. Never fully satisfied, she left to hunt one day and never returned when she caught the scent of her next prey; two heartbeats.

***

To find out about Anya’s next hunt, read The Prey of the Huntress Chronicle Two by Susan Storm. You can also find me on twitter @SexySusanStorm


© Copyright 2017 Susan Storm. All rights reserved.

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