This part contains lemons.
-VAMPi.
End of Part 183:
Jemima’s POV:
“You,” he rasped, “you killed Mary. It was you.”
I smiled. “Such is my life.”
I stepped closer to him, kneeling down on the ground. It was wet from rain; tiny puddles were clustered between the cobbles, soaking through my jeans. I didn’t feel the cold of it. I reached out and took Steve’s hand; even though he must have been freezing, it felt warm. The pulse beat against my palm, racing with fear. It smelt good.
“Thank you, by the way,” I told him. “Thank you for arguing me out of the flat. You lead me to my life.”
And then, before he could take another breath, I snapped his neck, killing him. Then I drank him dry, his blood flowing down my throat like warm wine. I felt a hand on my shoulder; it was like an electric current, zapping through my veins. I looked up at Ivan, the carcass falling from my hands.
“Well done,” he said, pulling up so I was standing with him. He was a head taller than me; he had to bend down to lick the fresh blood from around my mouth. I wound my arms around his neck, pulling myself up higher as he kissed me. He pulled my legs around his waist as my fingers played with his short black hair.
I kissed like I’d never kissed before. My first ever kiss hadn’t shown any signs that this sort of thing was possible; it had been wet, awkward and a disappointment. This, however, was none of those three things. This was new and exciting and intoxicating. This made my breathing race though I didn’t need to breathe; this was like nothing in the world.
I’d gone from a low, to the ultimate high. Such is my life.
....
Part 185:
Jemima’s POV:
One day later…
I still couldn’t believe my luck. How could this be happening? How could I, Jemima Jenkins, the girl who crushed on her cousin for 5 years, be here? In a castle. With the most amazing guy ever.
The romance of it should’ve made me feel sick. I hate things like this. Love stories where it’s love-at-first-sight and all that mushy crap. Besides, I wasn’t in a fairytale with ‘My Prince Charming’; I was in a horror movie with him, where we were the monsters and that was going to be so much more fun!
I kicked the wooden front doors open with my cowboy boot. Dust fell down and I could see every single speck of it. There were no lights on in the long, stone hallway, and I couldn’t be bothered to light any of the candles. I didn’t need them, anyway. I ran headlong into a set of doors at the end of the hallway, sending them ricocheting back off the dirty stone walls, but they didn’t break.
“That’s good craftsmanship for you.”
Ivan’s voice came from behind me, in the doorway. I spun around the see him. He was leaning against the nearby wooden fireplace. Casually, he knocked a rather expensive looking pot to the floor. It cracked but didn’t smash, so I kicked it until it did.
We both laughed. Then I darted over to one of the armchairs in the centre of the room. The two armchairs and the one 3-seater sofa were the only pieces of furniture in the room. They were stood on a threadbare rug, and had curling wooden legs. They looked like they had been good quality, at some point, before the years of people throwing their huge arses down on them had worn them down.
I jumped onto the armchair, tossing my legs carelessly over the padded wooden arm.
“I could get used to this,” I said, laughing.
Suddenly Ivan was there, his face inches from mine, his sharp red eyes glowing in the semi-darkness.
“Can I trust you, Jemima?” he hissed.
I placed my palm against his face. “Of course,” I whispered. Then I bared my teeth and lunged for his neck.
He laughed, wrestling me away and onto the floor. I clung to his neck, feeling the shape of the muscles beneath his granite skin. He brought his mouth down to mine, his hands holding me against the floor. I could felt he threads of it against my back, through my t-shirt, and then against my bare skin when he ripped my top away.
If this is what I get forever, I thought, then I shall never be opposed to happy ever after again.
…
-VAMPi.
End of Part 183:
Jemima’s POV:
“You,” he rasped, “you killed Mary. It was you.”
I smiled. “Such is my life.”
I stepped closer to him, kneeling down on the ground. It was wet from rain; tiny puddles were clustered between the cobbles, soaking through my jeans. I didn’t feel the cold of it. I reached out and took Steve’s hand; even though he must have been freezing, it felt warm. The pulse beat against my palm, racing with fear. It smelt good.
“Thank you, by the way,” I told him. “Thank you for arguing me out of the flat. You lead me to my life.”
And then, before he could take another breath, I snapped his neck, killing him. Then I drank him dry, his blood flowing down my throat like warm wine. I felt a hand on my shoulder; it was like an electric current, zapping through my veins. I looked up at Ivan, the carcass falling from my hands.
“Well done,” he said, pulling up so I was standing with him. He was a head taller than me; he had to bend down to lick the fresh blood from around my mouth. I wound my arms around his neck, pulling myself up higher as he kissed me. He pulled my legs around his waist as my fingers played with his short black hair.
I kissed like I’d never kissed before. My first ever kiss hadn’t shown any signs that this sort of thing was possible; it had been wet, awkward and a disappointment. This, however, was none of those three things. This was new and exciting and intoxicating. This made my breathing race though I didn’t need to breathe; this was like nothing in the world.
I’d gone from a low, to the ultimate high. Such is my life.
....
Part 185:
Jemima’s POV:
One day later…
I still couldn’t believe my luck. How could this be happening? How could I, Jemima Jenkins, the girl who crushed on her cousin for 5 years, be here? In a castle. With the most amazing guy ever.
The romance of it should’ve made me feel sick. I hate things like this. Love stories where it’s love-at-first-sight and all that mushy crap. Besides, I wasn’t in a fairytale with ‘My Prince Charming’; I was in a horror movie with him, where we were the monsters and that was going to be so much more fun!
I kicked the wooden front doors open with my cowboy boot. Dust fell down and I could see every single speck of it. There were no lights on in the long, stone hallway, and I couldn’t be bothered to light any of the candles. I didn’t need them, anyway. I ran headlong into a set of doors at the end of the hallway, sending them ricocheting back off the dirty stone walls, but they didn’t break.
“That’s good craftsmanship for you.”
Ivan’s voice came from behind me, in the doorway. I spun around the see him. He was leaning against the nearby wooden fireplace. Casually, he knocked a rather expensive looking pot to the floor. It cracked but didn’t smash, so I kicked it until it did.
We both laughed. Then I darted over to one of the armchairs in the centre of the room. The two armchairs and the one 3-seater sofa were the only pieces of furniture in the room. They were stood on a threadbare rug, and had curling wooden legs. They looked like they had been good quality, at some point, before the years of people throwing their huge arses down on them had worn them down.
I jumped onto the armchair, tossing my legs carelessly over the padded wooden arm.
“I could get used to this,” I said, laughing.
Suddenly Ivan was there, his face inches from mine, his sharp red eyes glowing in the semi-darkness.
“Can I trust you, Jemima?” he hissed.
I placed my palm against his face. “Of course,” I whispered. Then I bared my teeth and lunged for his neck.
He laughed, wrestling me away and onto the floor. I clung to his neck, feeling the shape of the muscles beneath his granite skin. He brought his mouth down to mine, his hands holding me against the floor. I could felt he threads of it against my back, through my t-shirt, and then against my bare skin when he ripped my top away.
If this is what I get forever, I thought, then I shall never be opposed to happy ever after again.
…