Vampire Seeker (15 page)

With the whiskey only making my thoughts and memory even foggier, I couldn’t now be sure of what I had seen. And although
the whiskey and the wine clouded my thoughts, it also gave me courage, so I said, “I didn’t imagine you with your
hand gripping my arse.”

“Crap!” Harry spat, spraying whiskey from his lips. “I wasn’t grabbing your ass.”

“Yeah, you were,” I said back. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off me.” I knew this wasn’t
actually true, as I vaguely remembered him strutting off up the riverbank without so much as a glance back at me. But it made
me feel good to try and get the better of him.

“I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you?” he gasped. “It’s you who hasn’t been able
to keep your eyes off me, doll.”

“Yeah?” I snapped in disbelief.

“You know it,” he said smugly, and I had to do everything in my power not to smash his face in.

“We’ll see about that,” I said, staggering to my feet. I wobbled my way out onto the balcony and a rush
of cold air hit my face like a sharp slap. I drew in a mouthful of cold night air and it made me feel better – but not
much.

Clackety-clack, clackety-clack, clackety-clack
, the train went all around me as it lurched to and fro. I teetered to my right and fumbled for the rail to steady myself,
but lost my grip.

“Steady there,” Harry said from behind me. Then, he was holding on to me.

“See,” I mumbled. “You just can’t leave me alone.”

“I’m just trying to stop your sorry ass from falling over the side,” he said, holding me tight.

I looked up into his face and said, “See, there you go, talking about my arse again.”

Looking down at me, Harry said, “Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“I’m not difficult,” I said, secretly enjoying being held by him again. I giggled and said, “I’m
nice.”

“Who needs nice,” he said with that grim look.

“You like nice,” I said, shifting in his arms so my face was closer to his. I might have been drunk, but not so
much so that I hadn’t realised he hadn’t released me yet, even though I was no longer in danger of falling from
the train.

With his arms tightening around my waist like a snake, he brought his lips within touching distance of mine. I could smell
the whiskey on his breath. Then someone spoke.

“I’m sorry, I thought I was the only one awake,” the voice said.

Letting go of me, Harry looked around and I followed his stare. Zoe was standing in the open doorway of the carriage. She
looked surprised to find me in Harry’s arms.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Fine,” Harry said, heading back towards the table, where he picked up his whiskey glass and poured himself another
shot.

“I think I need to get some sleep,” I said, touching my forehead with my fingertips. Part of me was glad that
Zoe had come in when she had, as I would have only regretted kissing Harry when I was sober the following morning. But there
was this other part of me that wished we had kissed. There was a fluttering in my stomach, and I knew it hadn’t been
caused by the drink.

I carefully navigated my way across the carriage, glancing at Harry as I went. He looked back at me and I wondered if he felt
the same as I did.

“Goodnight,” I said reaching the door, leaving Harry and Zoe alone.

I closed the door to my room and wobbled over towards the armchair. Using it as a support, I pulled off my clothes, kicking
them away. Naked, I stumbled into my berth and fell onto the bed. The constant motion of the train did nothing to stop my
head from spinning. I lay on my back and listened to the sound of the train rumbling across the desert. But in the constant
clackety-clack
sound of the train’s giant wheels passing along the tracks, I realised I could hear other noises. It was the sound
of two people making love, and the sound was coming from the carriage next to mine – the carriage that the preacher
and Louise shared.

“Don’t they ever stop shagging?” I giggled aloud.

I lay in the dark and listened to them. The sounds of their moans and groans grew steadily louder and more frequent in the
dark. I don’t know if it was because I was drunk – but to hear them kind of turned me on. Then came the sound
of smashing and crashing, as if furniture was being thrown about their berth. I could hear Louise shrieking with delight and
the preacher groaning, as if in uncontrollable ecstasy.

“Louise was right, the preacher is an animal,” I giggled again as I lay and listened to them.

The train rocked left then right, and I wondered if it wasn’t their overly- enthusiastic lovemaking that had nearly
brought the train off its rails. I closed my eyes to the soundtrack of their constant groaning and sighing and thought of
Karl. It had been a long time since I’d had sex with him – or with anyone, for that matter. I could picture him
in my head, his smooth good looks, black hair, and clean-shaven chin. I tried to remember the last time that we had had sex,
but couldn’t quite remember. With the sound of the preacher’s and Louise’s sex marathon taking place next
door, I slipped my hand between my legs and slowly started to stroke myself. The whole world felt as if it was spinning around
me. As I slid my fingers a little faster, I tried to picture Karl in my mind’s eye, but it was like he was hidden behind
a wall of mist. However hard I tried to conjure an image of him having sex with me, he just remained a faint, distant shadow.
I raised my knees and parted my legs slightly and rubbed my fingers faster as the sounds from the berth next door intensified.

Then out of the fog that swirled around my mind, I saw Karl step clear of it – but it wasn’t Karl – it was
Harry. He came towards me and wrapped his strong arm around my waist. I was naked, just like I had been on the riverbank.
I could feel his hand again. But this time, instead of letting it rest just above the groove of my buttocks, he worked his
fingers between my legs and I let them enter me. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter still and arched my back as I moved my fingers
faster and faster. I gasped as I suddenly felt my hand being brushed away. I half opened my eyes to see Harry kneeling over
me.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he breathed, bringing his face above mine. Like I had in the observation carriage, I
could smell whiskey on his breath.

“What are you doing?” I gasped as he slid a finger inside of me and started to push it slowly up and down.

“Shhhhh,” he breathed in my ear. “Keep your eyes closed. Whatever you do, don’t look at me.”

“Why not?” I sighed, as he eased another of his fingers into me, moving them faster.

“Because if you don’t keep your eyes closed – if you look at me, then this becomes real,” he whispered.
“It stops being a fantasy.”

“But what if I want it to be real?” I breathed, taking hold of his hand between my legs and working it faster.

“Just enjoy it for what it is,” he said, then closed his mouth over one of my nipples.

Like he told me, I kept my eyes closed, fearing that if I opened them, the fantasy would come to an end, as would the burning
feeling of excitement that was building deep within me. I didn’t want that to stop – not ever. With me guiding
his hand faster and faster, he buried his head between my breasts and covered them in rough kisses. I could feel his stubble
needle my flesh, and the fingers of my free hand slid through his hair. My nipples hardened, and he nipped at them with his
teeth.

“That hurts,” I gasped.

“You don’t know what pain is,” he whispered, and ran his tongue over the flat of my stomach. I felt the
tip of it probe my navel and I arched my back, raising my hips. In this position he could slide his fingers deeper into me
and I cried out as my body seemed to spasm from my head right down all the way through to my toes.

With my ankles digging into the bed and my fists gripping the sheets, I let him take control of the speed in which he pleasured
me. His strong fingers worked faster and faster and I shuddered out of control. My heart raced so fast and loud in my chest
that I thought it was going to explode. His fingers moved faster inside of me, and I tried to hold back the inevitable –
enjoying the unbearable sensation so much – not wanting it to end, afraid that I may never feel like this again. When
I couldn’t bear it any longer, I let go and the orgasm was so intense, that I bit into my lower lip until I had drawn
blood.

Harry stroked my breasts with the tips of his fingers, then lunging forward he kissed me. His tongue explored the inside of
my mouth as I forced mine into his. He lay on top of me, and I could feel his naked body. His cock felt hard against my stomach.

Breaking our kiss, and keeping my eyes closed, I whispered in his ear, “Take me from behind.”

“Only if you do as I say and keep your eyes closed,” he whispered back. Then, rolling me over onto all fours,
he knelt on the bed behind me. Harry gripped my hips with his hands and pulled me towards him. I murmured as he entered me,
and dropped my shoulders. I buried my face in the pillow so I couldn’t see him. It felt as if I had blindfolded myself
somehow. With his hands gripping my arse, he worked his hips backwards and forwards, slowly pushing himself in and sliding
out of me.

I gripped the sheets and cried out as he slowly took me. For the first time in my life, I truly understood why Sally had screamed
so much. I wanted to now. I had never felt so turned on in my life. The train rocked back and forth and it was like Harry
had fallen in sync with the motion of it. Karl would have been all over and done with by now and I would have been lying on
my back, smoking a cigarette, while he snored beside me; but Harry had only just started.

Still inside of me, Harry reached around and cupped my breasts in his hands. He squeezed them, rubbed them, and pulled at
them. I cried out again, and it was then I noticed that his hands felt bigger somehow. They felt coarser than they had before.
He ran them up from my breasts and around my throat, where he gently squeezed. I felt long fingernails scrape at the flesh
around my throat, as he pushed harder and faster into me. His groans behind me sounded deep and throaty, like some kind of
beast.

Turning my head to one side against the pillow, I decided to open my eyes just a fraction to look back at him. Harry sensed
what I was about to do, so taking his strong hands from around my throat; he entwined them in my long hair and shoved my face
back into the pillow so I couldn’t look at him as promised.

“Shut your eyes. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, and his voice, like his groans of pleasure, sounded
different somehow - deeper – stronger.

I didn’t feel scared as such, I felt too horny to feel fear. I’d always wished that Karl had been more adventurous.
Little did I know I would have to travel back to the year 1888 and get laid by a moody cowboy to find such pleasure. There
was nothing to be scared of, just like Harry had said, this was my fantasy and I was going to enjoy it.

“Harder,” I cried out. “I know you want to.”

As if what I had said had pushed a button in him somewhere, Harry began to push faster and harder into me. I raised my arse
as high as I could so he could force himself deeper within me. With both of us shouting out and groaning with unbearable pleasure,
and sounding just like the preacher and Louise had in the berth next door, I worked my hips up and down in time with Harry’s
thrusts. I wanted him as much as he wanted me.

I could feel an intense throbbing sensation between my legs which was only growing stronger and hotter as we moved faster
and faster against each other. I felt Harry spasm violently behind me and he cried out – his voice almost sounding like
a deep growl. My heart sped up –racing deep within me. Then the sense of pressure I had been feeling gave way and my
body rippled with an uncontrollable series of spasms, the inside of my thighs suddenly wet. It was like nothing else in the
world mattered, I just wanted the unbearable feeling of bliss to carry on forever – I didn’t want it to stop.
With my whole body trembling and covered in sweat, I collapsed onto my front. I lay there, that feeling slowly ebbing away.
My heart started to slow down, I breathed deeply. The room continued to spin, yet I felt tired and the most relaxed I could
ever remember feeling, even though my arms and legs were shaking.

I rolled onto my back and whispered, “Can I open my eyes now?”

There was only silence.

“Harry?” I breathed, still trying to catch my breath.

Silence.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. I peered about in the darkness, but couldn’t see Harry. There was just me.
Perhaps he had gone into the other room to find more whiskey?
I wondered. I wrapped the bed sheet around my shoulders, and with my legs still wobbling beneath me, I made my way into the
adjoining room.

“Harry?” I whispered again, but he wasn’t there. I was alone.

I dropped into the armchair and felt a complete fool. Harry hadn’t been in my room at all. We hadn’t just shared
the best sex I’d ever had. I had done that to myself, lying there drunk, listening to the preacher and Louise hump in
the carriage next door. The sex with Harry had just been another part of this fantasy. The fantasy I was creating for myself
as I lay half-dead on the carriage of that train, beneath the London of 2012.

Then, as I got up to stagger back to my berth, I noticed something. With the sheet wrapped around me, I lurched across my
room to the door, which was now ajar. I was sure that I had closed it; I was convinced I had. I pulled the door open and looked
in both directions up the carriage way, half expecting – hoping – to find Harry. There was no one there.

I closed the door.

I woke up feeling as if someone had buried a pickaxe in the front of my head. My tongue felt as thick as a rug and my mouth
tasted of road kill. I sat up, at first not remembering where I was. I looked about the small berth and then remembered –
I was on that train. But there was something wrong – it wasn’t moving. That constant rocking and rolling and
clackety-clacking
had stopped. Shielding my eyes with one hand, I pulled back the curtain an inch and peered out. I didn’t know what
time it was, but the sun was low in the sky and its light was weak.