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Sips of Blood Part 32

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Sade's voice chilled Wil's body. The shiver brought deeper pain. This is her secret from this man.

Sade yanked Wil's earlobe so hard his neck spasmed in pain.

"Monsieur, do you wonder why I have sent her for lighter fluid? Think on it. Think of the precious parts of your body that could be blistered and peeled into a blackened stump." Sade's hand wavered over Wil's c.o.c.k. Instead of heat, the hand seemed to emanate cold. Sade pulled out a gold, garnet-studded lighter. "I could just fill up my lighter."

The door opened.

"Too late, monsieur."

Sade had kept his voice low, but Wil could tell that she had heard. She seemed relieved, as if she had guessed that a failed inquisition had been taking place in her absence.

Sade took the fluid from Marie and shook the can.

"We are in luck, monsieur. The tin is almost full." Sade plucked the lid from the can and threw it to the floor. "The fluid will refresh your sweaty skin." He began to pour the fluid lightly over Wil's chest, moving down to the stomach and abdomen.

Wil felt his p.e.n.i.s stretch and swell. s.h.i.t, how much of a m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t am I? The fluid ran through his pubic hair, dribbling down between his thighs.

"Just enough, monsieur."

Sade dropped the last of the fluid on the tip of Will's p.e.n.i.s. Wil knew that a bit of his s.e.m.e.n mingled with the drippings that rolled down his organ.

A flick of Sade's finger lit the ornate lighter. He carried it to the head of the board.

Wil felt the cold of Sade's hand brush his cheek. The smell of burning hair forced him to jerk his head.

"Only a few strands, monsieur. Your hair is so dark, long, and thick, I envy you."

"Don't, please. Marie, stop him. I don't want this."

"Finally, ma Marie, something that frightens votre chouchou."

The man just needed to scare him, Wil thought. If he showed enough fear, this dead man would back off. This dead man that needed to be destroyed. Oh Marie, you were so right. But Wil needed to take out more than this s.a.d.i.s.t. He turned his head and looked at Marie. She stared back. A flicker of emotion never disturbed her features as she allowed Sade's hand to move down closer to his chest.

"She shared her blood with me," Wil yelled.

His chest flashed in waves of flame that progressed down to the lower half of his trunk.

Screams. His own. Marie's, as he saw the man sweep his fist into her mouth.

The ceiling light stayed lit after they left, but Sade had turned up the dimmer. Wil felt spotlighted. His burned body flinched under the glow of the high-wattage bulb that seemed to heat his stinging skin even more.

They had left him tied, but he still could tuck his chin in and see the blisters forming on his chest. He could not see the lower half of his body, but pain informed him of the damage that had been done.

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d." His voice quivered. His anger pa.s.sed a stream of pain through his body, rippling down as a tide. "I'll destroy you," he screamed, and the pain intensified, swelling into a new wave. Tears blurred his eyes and spilled down the side of his face. He inhaled, attempting to gain control over his emotions; instead, the smell of burnt meat turned his stomach. A dry heave contorted the pain into an unbearable trap that couldn't be escaped. He tasted blood and realized he had bitten down on his bottom lip. His tongue lapped at the blood. A fierce thirst overpowered him. Saliva wouldn't come. He kept sucking on the lip, but it didn't satisfy.

The door opened, and the light dimmed as the door shut again. He heard the rustle of clothing, the squeak of a floorboard, a cold hand wrapping around his left ankle, and the smell of paraffin.

G.o.d, have they not done enough?

Warm wax was dribbled onto his left foot. The heat seemed minor in comparison to the flame that still withered and blistered his skin.

The heat of wax, the cold of a frigid hand faded. The savage moved closer to his head. The smell of Marie focused his mind. She stood where he could see her and blew out the candle. She brought her face close to his.

"I forgive you," she said.

"Forgive?"

"For telling Louis that I had shared my blood with you. He is afraid to do any real harm to me, since Liliana knows that I am here. A frown." She rubbed a thumb across his forehead. "Yes, I had told her I would come here when she and I had stepped aside for a minute. He loves her, you know. A sick love, but still a controlling emotion she has over him. He would never destroy me, because her wrath would break his... dare I say, heart. But you were a bad boy." Marie leaned forward to kiss his lips.

Wil spat the congealing blood into her face. Marie raised her fingers to the blood and slowly wiped her face, licking each finger clean between each of her strokes. When finished, she lowered a finger to his cut lip and wiped away blood that she ran across her own lips. She used her tongue to mop the blood from her lipsticked mouth.

"I had to show you how much of an animal he is. I didn't think you completely trusted what I said. Did you?"

Silence pitted the two against each other.

"I didn't think so. Louis is hard to imagine. I'm here to rejuvenate you, my poor pet. It will take time, but your body will heal. I promise not a scar will settle into your skin."

Wil's body began to shiver.

"I had best hurry." She almost laid a hand upon his chest, but stopped when he took a quick intake of air.

Too late, Wil thought, as his action ignited his flesh all over again. Through the haze of his distant world he saw Marie rip apart the flesh on her right hand. Blood. His thirst seemed beyond containment. Blood. The metallic, sweet smell almost drowned out the odor of singed meat.

"I forgive you, Wil," she whispered. "I've come to heal, my savior." She brought her cut wrist to his mouth. "Drink, Wil. Quench that thirst that distracts your mind. Drink. When you get stronger, you will be able to get even."

Staring into Marie's brown eyes, Wil suckled at her wrist. He sucked so strongly that he saw her face crimp in pain.

b.i.t.c.h, he thought, while tasting her on his tongue, allowing her to glide down his gullet, to seep into the pores of his body.

Chapter 53.

Dressed in a black ca.s.sock with a purple stole crossing his chest, the priest unlatched the gates of the cemetery. He swept the gates open and led the mourners down the path to the family plot. Liliana stood far back in the line, not wanting to intrude on the family's privacy. Her uncle walked close to Matilda, whispering, comforting, lying, offering condolences that were empty. Offering his condolences when he took pleasure in the mourner's sorrow.

The hymns at the church had been solemn, emphasizing the hysteria of the mother when she called out for her baby. The screams resounded in the hollowness of the church as the choir continued to sing. Matilda had to be held back, else she would have lunged for the white coffin, which, covered with a full bed of white and red roses, seemed to float in the midst of the pall bearers. The priest's sermon had dwelt on the shortness of Cecelia's life, the potential that had vanished with her, the love she had for her family, and the peace she would find with her Lord.

Not with her lord, Liliana thought. Never would Cecelia find the kind of peace the priest had promised. Cecelia would know a never-ending hunger.

Liliana closed her eyes and remembered awakening inside her coffin, the days-long confinement, the hopeless cries that were smothered by the earth. Had her uncle prepared Cecelia? He had not prepared Liliana. Perhaps after seeing Liliana's famished, gaunt face, her bloodied fingers, and the rigidity of her frightened body, he had learned a lesson.

The last of the mourners brushed past her, and when she opened her eyes, she realized that most of the entourage had already a.s.sembled at the grave. Quickly she fell into step with those who preceded her.

At the grave site the coffin already hovered over the gaping maw of the earth. The priest, book in hand, waited for the crowd to still. Liliana looked for her uncle and found him standing next to the parents, his hands folded in prayer and his head bowed to the Creator. Such blasphemy.

Dressed in a black custom-made designer suit, her uncle looked striking. No, she corrected herself, he looked ethereal, with his white, jaggedly cut hair dipping down on his forehead and his somber but confident face of chiseled features.

He must have sensed her watching, for he looked at her and barely broke a smile to acknowledge her. Liliana looked away quickly, unable to accept the familial recognition. She and he were the same. Cecelia would join the family. He couldn't remain here with Cecelia. Where would he suggest going? Liliana didn't want to move on. She wanted to lie in David's arms, peaceful, loving him too much to unleash her taste for blood on him.

She and her uncle were the only ones of their kind here, except for the others, the mutated vampires that merely existed in the cemetery.

My G.o.d, what of Cecelia? They'd certainly smell the fresh body and come for her. Quickly she looked back at her uncle. Matilda leaned on his arm, dabbing tears from her eyes. Her uncle offered her his clean linen handkerchief, and she sobbed at the thoughtfulness of the gift.

Liliana reached for Sade's mind and finally knew she had captured his attention when Sade kissed Matilda's hand and encouraged her to stand nearer the priest as the final words were being said. He dropped back from the family, disappearing for several minutes until he whispered behind Liliana.

"Something disturbs you, ma chere."

Liliana moved out of the mourners' circle and walked to a distant tombstone. Not until they stood next to the headstone did she realize it belonged to Wil's mother.

"The mutants I told you about are going to smell her body. She'll be too confused to protect herself, Uncle."

"I will linger among the trees. They will not have the opportunity to suck her flesh." His fingers brushed her cheeks. He looked at his own hands, remembering something. He reached for the crested ring on his left hand and removed it from his finger. "I shall always love you, ma pet.i.te fille. Always you will be first in my life." He took Liliana's left hand and slipped the weighty ring on the middle finger. Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed the ring and turned her hand over to kiss her palm. "Cecelia quenches a hunger that merely satisfies my fantasies. But she will never have my love."

Snuggled in David's arms, she played with the fine hairs of his chest.

"That tickles." Playfully he pushed away her hand. Like the legs of a spider, her fingers started moving up the trunk of his body. "Uh-uh. Wrong direction." He drew her hand down between his legs. "That's the right spot. Can't you tell?"

"But what if I want to tease you?"

"I like where you're teasing me now."

"But this isn't teasing. This is foreplay. Next thing you know, you'll set me atop your hips, and we'll be way beyond the teasing stage."

"What sort of coquettish game do you want to play?"

Liliana slipped the peach-colored silk sheet back off their bodies and kneeled.

"I want to take turns driving each other crazy."

David took the down pillow from her side of the bed and placed it under his head along with his own pillow. "That will require thought and a filthy imagination."

She watched David's eyes scan the bedroom.

"This is so neat for a ladies' boudoir. I expected to see black lace teddies hanging off dressers, makeup scattered around the bathroom sink, dresses left out from the arduous morning selection of what to wear... but wait, if I lean over the side of this mattress, will I find nylons scattered beneath the bed?"

Liliana sighed.

"Don't look so depressed because you're not a slob." He chucked her under the chin.

"I dress in another room."

"Ah! And you take your lovers to the bedroom, but never the dressing room. Oh, Liliana, I thought I had found the perfect housewife."

"We have... We had help."

"I'm sorry about the death of the housekeeper's daughter. I didn't mean to ruin..."

She pressed two fingers to his lips.

"Let's talk about our s.e.xy romantic fantasies."

"Who starts?"

"You seem eager. Why don't you go first?" Liliana smiled and shifted her weight to her right b.u.t.tock.

"Actually, some of my fantasies I'd like to live again."

"Then these aren't just fantasies."

"Even used fantasies are new with different lovers."

Strange how the thought of other women made her stomach sink. He knew she was no virgin when they first made love. Each had had experiences with others that amplified their ability to satiate the other.

"I'd like to sweep you away." He grabbed her wrists and brought her back down on the mattress. "And I'd indulge myself in whatever manner I wanted. I could tie you down and give you o.r.g.a.s.m after o.r.g.a.s.m until your sleepy eyes told me you were intoxicated with the smell of our s.e.x and the warmth of my breath on your skin."

His hot breath chilled Liliana as much as the kisses with which he liberally moistened her flesh.

"o.r.g.a.s.m after o.r.g.a.s.m," she repeated.

He looked at her and smiled.

"Tempted? I know how to take you on a high beyond anything alcohol or a narcotic could give you."

"That easily?"

"Takes lots of sweat and ingenuity on my part." He released her wrists and ran his hands down her arms and across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, squeezing and plucking until s.e.xual excitement forced her to push his hands away. "I can't bring you to peak after peak..." He tapped her nose lightly with an index finger. "After peak, if you keep pushing me away."

"But my b.r.e.a.s.t.s are so..."

"Sensitive. That's the point, so to speak." He tweaked one of her nipples. "To have multiple o.r.g.a.s.ms you have to stay on the edge of torment and ecstasy."

His wet mouth covered hers, his tongue gliding against the roof of her mouth. He took hold of her wrists and brought her arms over her head. The cold bra.s.s and iron headboard felt refreshingly cool in contrast to David's burning flesh. Holding her wrists with one hand, David reached for something. The shifting of skin against skin increased the s.e.xual tension between them. When he moved back onto her body, she raised her hips into him. He began to loop cloth around her wrists, tying her to one of the bra.s.s posts.

She pulled her mouth away from his.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?"

David's soft voice hushed her.

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Sips of Blood Part 32 summary

You're reading Sips of Blood. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Mary Ann Mitchell. Already has 630 views.

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