Read Cake Online

Authors: Derekica Snake

Tags: #Erotica

Cake (6 page)

He gave a big sigh and grabbed the leather pants. I stared at him. He was acting so strangely; he was being too nice. Usually he came in, ordered his pleasure, and when I didn’t provide it, he took it by force anyway and used my throat as a cocktail strainer, only to leave me alone until the next night.

Marcus suddenly flipped me over onto my back and pulled me up until I was sitting. He caught me by the back of the neck, moved in, and started kissing my mouth, using his lips and tongue to tease a response out of me.

Oh crap. Crap, crap, crap.

He sat back with a frown on his face. “Your language definitely needs improvement.”

And then it dawned on me, suddenly becoming crystal clear in my mind’s eye. Marcus is all teeth and fangs, he always is. There is none of this kissing, holding bullshit.

You’re going to kill me!
I let out a gasp.

Marcus cocked his head to one side and smiled at me as if his precious little child had finally done something of worth. He patted me on the head. “Yes, my little Sex. I am going to kill you sometime tonight.”

Oh crap.

F
ive

Sex’s Revelations


What I have not decided, as of yet, is how to bring you across.”

Marcus began dressing me with all the care one would take to dress a store mannequin. I could only stare at him in absolute horror as his words sank into my brain. I never expected him to confirm it.

I’d honestly have been happy with a lie.


No, you would not. You are an honest man, in your own fashion. I have not lied to you in all this time, and I see no reason to start now,” he said as he reached into the tight leather of my pants, cupped my cock protectively with one hand, and pulled up the zipper with the other. “Hmmm, I misjudged the size. It is a little snug, but it still suits you. If you are good, I will cuff your hands together in front of you now.”

This calm, matter-of-fact manner of his was more terrifying to me than the rages I managed to push him into.

He popped the bronze shirt over my head, and walked around behind me, releasing the cuffs that held my arms at my back. They ached, and I couldn’t have lifted them on my own even if Marcus commanded it, they were so numb. Marcus pulled my unresponsive arms through the sleeves of the bronze slut shirt and tugged the garment the rest of the way down. It was tight and far too small. The bottom of the shirt ended a good three inches from the top of the leather pants. Great, I was dressed as some gay, slutty plaything.

Marcus slipped the cuffs back on, but at least my arms were in front of me this time. “You are even more beautiful now,” he said as he stepped in and gave me a lingering kiss. He leaned closer and licked gently at my new scar, letting a single finger trail down the side of my face to trace along the puckered edge. I shuddered. This was definitely different from what he usually did.

Why are you doing this to me?


If you were just a little fuck toy, as you put it, I would have drained you dry by the end of the first month. But this…” He tapped my forehead, right on the goose egg from the head butt I had received earlier, and my eyes watered with pain. “This has intrigued me. You have no idea how rare an animal you are, my Little One. I have only encountered one other human who could make coherent mind-speak when the binding was on them. You do not even realize that you have not spoken a word to me since the day I took you, do you?”

I shuddered as his tongue lapped at my neck. “The vocal binding is a standard vampiric weapon. It is used so you cannot tell anyone about this place, and no other vampire would dare take you with this mark on you. Usually, humans just flash incoherent thoughts, a random slide show of images. One cannot get any clear sense of presence. You and I, on the other hand, have conversations of a sort. I would prefer less colorful words, but I do get your messages.” He spun me around in front of him. “I think I prefer you in this type of clothing, rather than you being naked. It adds an air of mystery about you.”

Forcing me back to the couch, I sat down hard as he straddled my thighs and planted his hands on either side of my head. “Present your neck to me, Sex.” I could only stare up at him. I had nowhere to go, even if I started struggling.

Are you going to kill me now?


No, but I am going to enjoy the taste of you again. But, I do not want to scar you any more than is necessary. I was going to wait a bit for you to recover from my last meal, but as I am killing you tonight anyway, a little weakness in you will not affect the rebirth.”

I tried to relax, but just like the first rape of the day, I tensed, making it worse for myself. There was the inevitable sting of his fangs’ first entry, and then his saliva hit the wounds, burning them hot for a few seconds before the numbing sensation took over. I learned fast that Marcus has a little routine he does: First, the penetration and the slick licks. Then he rotates his fangs, digging deeper and widening the puncture marks.

I brought my cuffed hands up and grabbed at his shirt. I should have pushed him away. I should have done something, anything, other than what I did do. I should have done something else entirely. But there was no stopping my hands as they clenched in the cloth they encountered. There was no preventing my thumbs from rubbing on the cool buttons that they touched. And then…I shouldn’t have, but I did…I pulled him closer. And I arched into his bite.

It hit me hard, the intense wave of pleasure that washed over me. It wasn’t mine. I had never felt anything close to it before. I felt like I was betraying myself, and I started crying. Again. Damn it. I was such a crybaby.

Stop it.
Please stop. Stop. For fuck’s sake, let me go!

Marcus sat up, and streams of crimson leaked from the corners of his mouth. His eyes were red with annoyance, or maybe hunger, but they faded back to his normal warm chocolate brown as he stared down at me.

Tears were still streaming from my eyes, and I tried to turn my head away so he couldn’t see them, but my neck was torn and the wounded muscles protested. I felt a hot burning begin to trail its way down my throat, and I realized that blood was seeping out of the bite wound. My life’s blood was trailing uselessly down my neck.


Hush, Sex. There is no need for this.” He kissed my eyelids and lapped up the tears that were still spilling down my cheeks. I let go of his shirt and pushed at him. It was like pushing a brick wall. I accomplished absolutely nothing. “We can’t have you crying. We do not want you to ruin your new clothes.”

I just closed my eyes, the tears still finding their way through my lashes as he licked, sucked, and kissed my wounds closed. I didn’t even resist as he caught my face and pulled my chin up toward him.


I want a kiss from you. I taught you how I like it, so there should be no disappointments. Right?”

I opened my eyes and blinked him into focus. Too much focus. My eyes zeroed in on the crimson-stained lips.

You’ve got blood on your mouth.


It is your blood, Sex. It should not bother you. I want you to taste it.”

But it’s blood.

I just stared at him as he went in and out of focus. I blinked to try and keep him in sight, but my eyes must have stayed shut on the last blink, because everything stayed black.

I smelled apples. Fall crisp, green apples. I think. I moaned in dismay even before I opened my eyes. I knew it was too much to believe that this was just a horrible nightmare. It would have been nice to have opened my eyes and find myself in the middle of an apple orchard, but no, I was here in a concrete-style bunker, with no decorations, no breakable objects, and no doors.

A tumbler of juice passed in front of my nose. There were my apples. I raised my hands to take the offered glass.


Touch it, and your arms go back behind you in cuffs again.”

I was sitting crossways on Marcus’s lap. A blanket was wrapped around me, and it made me feel all warm and cosy. I glanced down. I was still in the “fuck-me-now”, gay-boy clothes, but now I had on white, fuzzy socks too. I wiggled my toes. Yup, they were mine. I don’t remember being this warm in a long time.

A straw hit my lips. Damn, I’d almost been asleep again. I opened my mouth, but the straw spun away from me. I ended up playing fish-out-of-water, trying to get the juice until I got tired and just slumped back against Marcus’s chest. His whole body jiggled as he chuckled at my expense.


Forgive me, Sex. Your spirit and sense of self is so strong, I forget that your body is such a fragile thing. I drank too much from you. I am only getting random images from you now. I have spoiled my own gift.”

The straw was placed firmly between my lips, and I sucked. Oh thank god, it wasn’t cranberry.

I was just getting a good taste of the apple juice when it was pulled away, and a piece of cheese was placed at my lips instead. I opened my mouth and Marcus stuck his fingers in, along with the little square of cheese. I had to blink a couple of times to get his face in focus, and I glared at him since my mental voice wasn’t working right. Totally unhygienic, I know where those fingers have been, I silently cussed at him. He got the message.

As he removed his fingers, I shivered, and Marcus pulled me closer, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. I sighed and leaned further into him. I was so tired, and he was so warm.


While this is nice, Sex, this is not you. I think I prefer you hurling insults at me.” He laid his chin on top of my head. I hated that, but I was simply too tired to move. “Go to sleep, my Little One. I will wake you when it is time.”

Time? Time for what, I pondered. But sleep sounded like such a good idea, and so instead of asking what he meant, I made Marcus’s shoulder my pillow and drifted off.

The sound of a bell striking snapped me awake. It rang again. Where the hell was it coming from? It sounded like one of those old grandfather clocks, but I knew there wasn’t one of them in the living room. There wasn’t much at all in the living room. As far as furniture and decorations went, it had been reduced to the bare minimum. Maybe that bell was chiming midnight or perhaps noon. Whatever the reason for its noise, it had woken me up.

I had to struggle my way out of the blanket that smothered me, which had been tucked in around my body like a bunting bag. It’s harder to do than you’d think, with your hands locked behind your back.

That fucking vampire bastard! I hadn’t used my arms when they’d been tied up in front, so why the hell were they locked behind me again now?

Damn, I was thirsty. The glass of apple juice was sitting on the coffee table, with the straw still sticking out of it. I got on my knees, crawled over to it, and drained it dry. The cheese and crackers were still sitting there too, though the cheese had taken on that dried out, shrivelled, stale-around-the-edges, unappealing look. My stomach growled. I’d eaten a lot worse than dried-out cheese in the past. It wasn’t going to be a problem.

I didn’t make much of a pretty picture, munching on cheese whilst using my tongue to drag the crackers to the edge of the plate so that I could get my teeth into them. The crackers were drying my mouth up inside. Damn, I shouldn’t have drunk all the juice first. Maybe there was more to drink in the dumbwaiter.

Climbing to my feet, I stood stock-still to see if the weakness that had kicked the crap out of me earlier were still there. It was but not to the same extent that it had been before. It was much less now, and so I managed to cross over to the dumbwaiter, turn with my back to it, grab the handle and pull as hard as I could.

I was rewarded with its small door popping open, and turning around, I used my head to nudge the opening wider, taking a look inside.

There was a cake sitting on the metal contraption. A cake? Why would that be in there? Marcus wouldn’t eat that. I froze as I looked at the iced message on it. It read, “Happy Birthday, Sex.”

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