The Vampire's Mark

Chapter 3 of 7

Disclaimer: All characters, original story plot, etc. are the creation of one of my favorite authors, J. K. Rowling. They do not belong to me however much I wish it were so. If they were one of the events in The Order of the Phoenix and most of The Half-Blood Prince would never have happened . (I love you, Padfoot!) I have merely borrowed them in a twisted attempt to amuse myself and hopefully a few others. Lawyers, please be aware I have no money should you or your client decide to litigate. The only thing I own outright is my collection of Rock, Metal and Alternative Rock CDs, and NO, you cannot take them. (A few aren’t even mine.) If you’re nice I might let you borrow one, though I doubt it if you’re trying to sue.


Draco steps forward, runs his hands over my chest, and then buries them in my hair. “So soft,” he whispers threading through the strands, massaging lightly before initiating another kiss. He breaks it this time to move on to my neck, which he nips before biting rather hard.

The erotic play pushes away all control and I push him down onto the couch. He sprawls wantonly and I lean over to gently place kisses on his offering. Slowly, giving him time to back out, I sink my teeth in, making it as painless as possible. His groan and arch lets me know beyond a doubt that he’s enjoying himself as much as I am. I sip, savoring the robust flavor that spills out. Never has any tasted so exquisite. I force my fangs away and lick away the few drops of blood that have escaped. The wound heals itself, invisible to all but another Vampire. I have marked him as mine.

I glance at the handsome face and see drooping lids. Scooping Draco up I stride to my bedroom, deposit my bundle gently in the middle of my four-poster bed, and remove his clothes. I soothe his sleepy protests that he can do it with pecks rained on closed eyes and down his rock hard chest. I allow him the modesty of boxers, green with silver snakes. ‘Definitely Slytherin.’ I prepare for bed and climb in minutes later. Draco is sound asleep. I join him soon after.

A jab to my ribs wakes me midday. Half in slumber I grab the offending limb only to relax when I smell spices. I gather the sleeping man close, nuzzle his hair, and return to Dreamland.

Hours later I awake to the sounds of water running. My houseguest has decided to take a shower it seems. Unable to resist the urge I slip into the bathroom to take what is meant to be a quick peek at the gorgeous body of the blond. What I see changes my mind.

Imagine if you will a jungle paradise. Lush tropical plants and riotous colored flowers surround a huge pool of water. A waterfall tumbles off the edge of a rock formation in the center of the room. Under it caressed by the cool wetness is Draco. His head thrown back in total abandon the water sluices through his now dark blond tresses and runs in rivets down his sculpted back, which is to me, between his legs to splash in the knee deep pool. I watch as he chooses soap from an assortment and lathers up. He doesn’t use a washcloth, only his hands. They glide over his arms, stomach, and lower. How I wish he’d turn around! They make their way to his back, his legs, and finally his arse. He moves to stand back under the full spray of the falls and looks over his shoulder.

“Are you going to gawk all night or join me?”

I’m there in seconds, shampoo and conditioner in hand.

An elegant smirk appears. “Hope you’re not always that fast,” he teases.

“Sometimes one feels the need for a little speed.”

His grey eyes grow molten silver.

“If you sit on that low boulder,” I point, “I’ll wash your hair for you.”

He sits obediently and tilts his head back.

I pour the vanilla-coconut scented liquid in my palm and proceed to massage the silver and gold locks. Using a small bucket I conjure I rinse Draco’s hair, add conditioner, and rinse again.

He rises. “My turn.” He points to the waterfall and I let him lead me over. He takes his time bathing me.

I feel closer to him at this moment then I have ever felt to another, even my parents and sire. He tugs me over to the stone seat and repeats my hair washing performance. He’s in front of me, towering over me, pouring bucket after bucket on my long black hair. I drag my eyes from his six-pack abs lower. He’s hard and the tip of his sex glistens. I bend and engulf him. He’s so warm. Fingers dig into my scalp when my hands grab his arse to pull him closer.

Soon enough I hear “Samuel! Oh! I’m going to---”

I let up. “Not yet you don’t.” I smack his bum when he curses me. “Behave and I’ll give you more.” I move to take a towel from the stay warm stack and dry him off. “Go wait for me in my room. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Draco pouts but does as I request. I disapparate into the kitchen, gather supplies, and apparate beside him.

He’s used the time well. His hair has been dried and combed. He presents a thoroughly wicked image reclining on the chaise lounge. He’s lying on his side facing me. One leg is cocked up at an angle, still totally nude. If I were a painter I could spend eternity trying to capture his perfection on canvas to no avail.

“By Circe but you are a sight to behold, Draco Malfoy.”

He smirks.

“Arrogant git.”

The smirk wavers.

I’m at his side in an instant seeing the distress in his eyes. “What is it?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing really.”

“What? I won’t let this go until you tell me.”

“You sounded just like Potter when you called me a git. Stupid, huh?”

I set the tray of food down. “Not at all. You obviously have feelings for this Harry.” A sudden unwelcome thought brings more pain with it than it should have considering I’ve only met Draco last night. “Is that why you’re here? Because I remind you of him?”

His arms reach out to capture me before I can move away. “No, Samuel, it’s not. I’m here because of you.”

Appeased with his sincerity I allow him to pull me down. He drapes his slim body over mine and scatters moist bites and kisses on the small expanse of chest my partially open robe doesn’t cover.

“Behave, Brat or you’ll never get the chance to eat the food I managed to scrounge up for you.”

“Ooh. What’d ya bring?” he asks jumping up to look.

I grin at his smile. “Strawberries, cream, and red wine.”

He launched himself at the tray and brings it over to the chaise. “Can you…do you eat?”

“A few things but I’m not hungry for fruit at the moment.”

His eyes widen as I take the tray away and push him back down. I press my index finger to his mouth when he tries to speak.

“Shh, my beautiful one. Just relax and enjoy.”

He abruptly wraps his lips and tongue around my digit. I close my eyes at the wonderful sensation. He nibbles and I pull away to replace my finger with a plump red berry. He watches me intently as I hand feed him a few of the ripe strawberries.

I tell him to lay flat and when he quickly moves to do my bidding I reward him with a deep kiss before pouring cream on his stomach.

The chilliness of the pale, sweet liquid makes Draco gasp which turns into a loud groan of lust when I lap each droplet from his silken skin. “Mmm. Tastes much better on you. I may have to do this more often.”

His response is to grab hunks of my hair and grind into me.

I laugh. “I’m glad my plans meet with your approval.” I lick a path from his navel, across his chest, taking care to pay special attention to his nipples, and up to his earlobe. The sounds coming from him has me so hard it hurts but still I seek to delay the inevitable.

Moments or hours later, it’s hard to tell, Draco rasps, “My turn,” and flips our positions. I make no protest as he looms over me with a mischievous glint in his silver eyes. He pours a glass of wine and I watch as he drinks, fascinated by the rippling motion of the muscles in his neck. Another sip, which he doesn’t swallow, and he takes my aching member deep in his mouth, not a drop of wine escapes. The heat of his mouth and cold of the Merlot combine to make a very heady experience. My hands reach down and gently rake short nails across his shoulder blades. He starts to hum and I know I’m about to lose it.

“Draco, you need to stop.”

He shakes his head no.

“Draco,” I warn him.

He sucks harder.

“Draco!” I growl.

He lets go reluctantly and pouts at me. Slowly he swallows the wine he used to torture me with. “Why did you make me stop?”

I caress his flushed cheek. “Because I want to hear you scream my name when we reach our release together, as one, me buried inside you.”

“Oh. That’s alright then.”

“Glad you approve.” I nip his neck and sigh at the taste of his blood.

“Samuel,” he moans.

“Yes?”

“That feels…so good.”

“Really?” I’ve always suspected it did but could not bring myself to probe my victims’ minds for this piece of information. It seemed perverse.

“Oh, Merlin, yes,” the man pants.

“And this?” I reach down to grasp his heavy thickness and suck hard through the puncture wound. The body beneath me jerks in pleasure. It is time. I heal the bite completely and move my hand lower to prepare him. His squirms and whimpers tell me he is ready. I grab his legs and push them apart. I wait.

Draco lifts passion-glazed orbs to stare at me, confused.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“If we take this step you will be mine. Do you understand?”

“I’ve always been yours. I just didn’t know it yet.”

“How you please me, Grey Eyes.”

When we come it is together, the sound of each other’s names echoing throughout the chamber.