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A Vampire's Thirst : Markus by Solease M Barner (1)

Chapter One

Moonlight silvered the woman's naked body as she stretched moaning on the bed. The room was almost as bright as day, lit by a full moon, which blazed through the skylight, spotlighting her enormous, hard nipples and sweat-slicked breasts and thighs. The smell of her hot, sweaty body, and the intoxicating scent pouring from her pussy filled Markus’s nostrils, making his cock hard. Her whimpers bounced off the walls to grip his ears, and though fucking was always good, it was especially good when it was raw and unapologetic like this. Tonight, though, none of it mattered, when it was the sound of the thick, warm blood pumping through her veins that pierced him with thirst, and the only thing he truly wanted was to feed on her.

Her moans increased in volume, rising to a crescendo as he hissed loudly. He gripped her hips tighter and his fangs lengthened. A surge of anticipation rippled down his back. Raising his head slightly as he opened his mouth, he sank his teeth into her, allowing the warm crimson liquid to fill his mouth and relief to wash over his body. Her blood started to ease the madness raging in his veins, the madness that had been crippling him for five days now. Her ass began to shift from side to side on his sheets, and he removed one hand from her hip, slipping two fingers inside her, sliding them in and out, slick with her juices, over and over again until she was screaming out in pleasure, with just a hint of pain. He continued to drink, savoring every drop of the tangy AB positive that touched his tongue and slipped down his throat, and even though he knew he should have had enough by now, it tasted so good, felt so good, that he didn’t want to stop. It was the only thing that helped him these days, since the thirst had had him in the worst blood-lust a vampire could have. He must be careful not to kill her, Markus warned himself. That would bring on a whole new set of troubles. He listened for her heartbeat, and it was becoming fainter with every drop he sucked from her, so after taking one last, delicious mouthful of her essence, he released his fangs from her thigh and licked her wound to stop the bleeding.

She was panting, but a slight grin illuminated her face. Her pulse, though, was faint and rapid – dangerously so. He sank his fangs into his wrist and allowed a few drops of his blood to drip into her open mouth. She licked her lips and reached to grab his wrist, but he was faster. He had never allowed anyone to drink from him, and he was not about to start now, just because he had taken a bit too much of her blood. He never allowed anyone to drink his essence.

He hated that he had been having to call upon his regulars so often lately. The last time he had felt normal, really himself, had been almost a week ago. Now, it seemed he couldn’t go without feeding, or sex, for longer than a few hours. He was not new to the life of the undead; he had been a vampire for more than a hundred and fifty years, but the way he had been downing blood bags and drinking from his willing donors lately, one would have thought him newly turned.

She started to pout, and it piqued his vanity. Markus considered himself the best fuck this side of the Mississippi, and the thought that he might leave her unsatisfied annoyed him. It was not his way; that, he believed, was why his list of willing donors was so long.

Her legs were still spread wide for him, and he gave her a wicked grin. With a quick move, he flipped her onto her stomach, pulled her hips back until she was on her knees and placed his cock right at her entrance. The least he could do was make her feel good.

“Now, you can stop pouting.” His voice was smooth as silk. As his hand glided down the center of her back to her hip, he slammed into her, holding her body close to him. He closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back as he began to push himself inside her, over and over. The only sound in the room was the quiet smack of their bodies pounding against each other, and behind it, the almost inaudible whisper of his cock against her slickness, as it slipped easily in and out. She screamed loudly, but begged for more.

“Fuck me!” she yelled. “YES, YES! MORE!”

She gripped the sheets until her knuckles were almost white, but he would not stop. He had been with her many times, and he knew what to do to make her come. Sometimes he thought she wanted him to be even more aggressive, but she was human and he a vampire; if he got too aggressive, she would die. Self-control was his only option, in any situation. So he held back, not wanting to damage her body; he had already nearly drained her of blood. It was more of a need than a desire, this constant wanting of red liquid and pussy. He had always wanted blood, but it seemed like it was the only driving force in his life now, and that hadn’t been the case until recently; always before, he would satisfy his hunger and free his mind for business, his true passion. He was sure of one thing, if he didn’t get the blood, and the sex, he craved, he’d do something drastic, and that could cost him everything, including his life. So what with always having willing humans on his donor list, plenty of them with the big asses and huge tits he loved – he had always been a sucker for huge tits, and this one had both - he’d not lost his sanity. Or not quite. Yet he had a feeling that soon the thirst would become uncontrollable. He knew he was not really controlling it even now, but he had not taken the life of any of the many women on his list of willing donors. He had to use them more often now, which had put a damper on his life. He wanted to have female company from among the humans, but also from the supers - fairies, vampires, she-wolves - but on his terms. Not because this fucking need made the decision. He turned away from his thoughts and forced himself to focus on the moment, on fucking her until she screamed, and her pleas to him to keep going became a low mumble.

Afterwards, he rose from the bed and walked over to the bar, pouring himself a drink. He had taken two sips before he noticed she was still lying in the bed, almost falling asleep. The woman knew he never allowed overnight guests, no matter what; once he was done, they must leave, without any backchat or questions. He waited, hoping she would get out on her own before he had to be an asshole, but he would be one if she’d forgotten the deal, and reminding her would not be a problem.

“Umm…” He cleared his throat loudly. She looked at him with an ‘oops’ smile, climbed out of bed and started to dress.

He turned back to his drink, ignoring her. Once he heard the door close, a sigh of relief washed over him. Now that she was gone he could relax, although he could feel the Thirst rising, despite the sweet ambrosia he’d just had. He tried to wrap his mind around this thirst for nourishment, and the way it had come on so strongly. It had only been five days and his life had changed. It had already affected his work; he’d been avoiding people, keeping his distance as much as he could for the last five days, allowing a few trusted employees to handle his business. He couldn’t go on like this forever, though; the big deals couldn’t be entrusted to staff, and he had several big ones stewing in the pot. Soon, he would have to return to work and finish what he had been putting off. He knew his attitude lately had been more than some people could handle, not that he was friendly at the best of times; he was, he knew, an aggressive jerk anyway, on a regular basis. Yet his bad attitude was more profound than usual, and he was aware that it could jeopardize his deals. He didn’t use mind control unless it was an absolute necessity, but with the recent constant craving gnawing at him, destroying his peace and irritating his temper, he was not ruling it out.

He had never had any trouble getting a woman. Even before he had become a vampire, he had been considered a handsome man, well above average. The problem he was having was that now, he needed women like never before. The thirst had him more focused on sex than he had been used to. He loved a good nut like any other man, but he preferred it to be when he wanted, and chosen - not forced, as the bloodlust was doing. Once, he thought, he had been in charge of his life, but lately, he felt like a helpless animal. It was a fucking thorn in his side to have this need of feeding and sex constantly on his mind. Since he had been a vampire, feeding had always been a priority, more than anything else, but he could control it, and he had got a hold of the lust a long time ago. Normally he still managed to get his favorite A positive daily, but if he didn’t get it, he was not having crazy thoughts. Now, when he was around anyone, anyone at all, all he could think of was blood, blood, blood and fucking more blood. He was like a horny teenage boy, getting pussy for the first time and now he couldn’t get enough.

It was affecting his business, and after blood, that was what he loved most. He had traveled the world and seen just about everything that most people had on their bucket lists, but the thing he had really fallen in love with was the wheeling and dealing of business, the excitement of the deal, the satisfaction of seeing his net worth grow and grow. He had bought his first property over a hundred years ago, and once he found out that he could make money by renting or reselling, a whole new world had opened for him. He had begun focusing on being a businessman rather than a vampire. It had not been long before he began to be known as a serious player in the real estate business. He didn’t shy away from confrontation, and it had helped him to close the deal on properties on numerous occasions. He had loved the real estate business from the start. He had begun to make money, and adjusted to his new life. Now this life was in jeopardy, and his enjoyment of it was being spoiled by the constant nagging of the thirst, which made it impossible for him to concentrate. The last business meeting he had attended had been about a deal worth more than ten billion dollars, but the entire time, all he could think about was how long it would take him to have everyone’s vital fluid drained! He wanted to suck their essence so bad it made his cock hard, and not just a little hard - it was solid as a rock!

He had been lucky one of his employees, a wolf, had noticed something was drastically wrong. He’d called for a break that had given Markus a chance to take a few breaths, and he’d hoped he would be able to return to the meeting, but that hadn’t happened; he’d had to send his assistant in to say he’d been overcome with a migraine, a weak excuse, but all he could think of. Since that day, the thirst had been getting worse and worse. It was unbearable, and at times he wanted to rip his own heart out.

He was at the end of his rope, he thought. He had exhausted his own ability to cope with this. He needed help, advice. He decided to go see Ida Grace.

He stood to finish his drink, and caught the smell of his recent companion. With it came an urgent need to wash it off himself. He refilled his whiskey glass, walked into the shower and turned the water to the highest setting. He downed the drink and stood under the hot spray, allowing the water to wash away his tension and the alcohol to give him some relief. It was not long before the scent of his last sexual encounter was gone, and he was able to get out of the shower.

Once out of the shower he dressed, grabbed the keys to his Porsche and walked out the door. He was in the car and off in no time, driving at high speed to the home of one of his oldest and closest friends.

As he pulled up and stepped out of the car, he looked up at the massive house. Ida Grace Hale had saved him from The Directive years ago. When he was only newly turned, his maker had abandoned him on the street to fend for himself. Overwhelmed by the thirst of the new vampire, and unaware of the existence of The Directive, let alone its rules about killing to feed, he had been on his fourth victim when Ida interrupted him in a Chicago alley. She had taken him in, taught him the rules, shown him how to hunt, and how to take enough blood and still leave his victim alive, and they’d remained friends ever since. It had never been anything more than a brother-sister relationship; that had been Ida’s idea, but was glad it had always been platonic; she had been like an older sister to him, and as his own family aged and died, that sense of family had become more and more vital to him. She had always given him good advice, and now he hoped she could help him with his blood-lust.

Ida opened her door with a wicked grin. “I knew you were coming! Did you bring me a gift?”

“No, I didn’t,” he replied, walking up the massive stairs to greet her. “Get out there and get your own food, Ida.”

“You know, it’s customary to bring a gift when you’re coming to someone’s home.”

He rolled his eyes, and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Now, are you going to move so I can pour myself a drink?” He stared at her and she narrowed her eyes.

“Markus Black, I detect signs of a pissy attitude, and I’m not going to put up with that bullshit.” She crossed her arms in front of her and raised a brow.

Ida Grace was tall and thin, but had boobs any man would want to roll in. She had acquired a good amount of wealth over the centuries, some from men, some from business deals and some from illegal encounters. She had long red hair with deep waves, and the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. In fact she was damned hot, and if she hadn’t been like a sister to him, he’d have been all over her like white on rice.

“Fuck, Ida, get out of my way. I’m having a serious setback, so can you please step aside?” He punched out the last words.

Ida sighed as she stepped aside to let him pass. He walked through the open door, straight to her study. The usual fire was burning in the grate, and he loved the welcoming feel it gave the room, although it was, he knew, only for show. He poured himself a huge glass of whiskey from the wet bar. This was more like it, he thought. Ida never had visitors except for her donors, so they wouldn’t be disturbed. He took a seat in his favorite chair by the window, and stared out at the ornamental pond, letting the stillness steep in his bones, bringing his whirling mind to rest.

Ida took a seat in the other chair, crossed her long legs and looked out of the window, allowing him this space.

After a while, she sighed. “Tell me what’s gotten your panties in a twist.”

He stared out the window at nothing in particular, thinking that if this thirst continued it could get dangerous. If he slipped and killed someone, Ida would not be able to save him, and a week without crimson liquid would be the least of his problems.

“Have you ever gone through a stage where your bloodlust was out of control?”

She turned away from the window and stared at him. “Once I was past the newness of being a vampire, I’ve never not been able to control my bloodlust. Are you having trouble?”

“For the last five days it’s been over the fucking top. I can’t do anything without the thirst hitting me like a bear, and sex only helps some, and trust me, I’ve been fucking everything that will let me.” He stood and started to pace, realizing it was the first time he had spoken about this thirst out loud. He stopped in the center of the room and turned to face her. “I’m afraid, Ida. I’m afraid I’ll do something terrible.”

Ida surged up from her chair. “Markus,” she snapped, “you are not allowed to do dumb shit. I saved your ass from The Directive once, but trust me, they will not tolerate any, and I do mean any, shit from you. You know they wanted you dead anyway.” She came to stand in front of him, hands on her hips.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but stopped the outburst that was itching to come out. He didn’t like being reminded of how they wanted him dead. The Directive had made it clear they wanted him to be ash. Although he had proven himself over the years, a vampire’s memories do not degrade with time, but remain always fresh, and he was well aware that there was no love lost with The Directive. If only he knew what was causing this thirst, or why his blood lust now consumed his every thought. He had come to Ida for help, he thought, annoyed, not to take a trip down memory lane.

“I’m sure I’ll get a hold of it, but I was hoping you might know a way to move it along.” He stared at her, still wishing for some good news, but when she walked away from him, he knew there would be no help from this quarter.

He walked back to the bar to pour another drink, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to release some of the tension that had built itself into a solid mass in his upper back. As he turned back to the window, he caught sight of the worried look on Ida’s face. Even though she was one of his best friends, he didn’t have it in him at the moment to try to ease her mind. Hell, he was trying to ease his own mind about this situation, but he didn’t have any ideas.

“Markus, I know I give you a hard time, but I can see you’re serious. Look, let me give you some advice. Whatever it takes, don’t piss off The Directive. When you’re using a donor and you want to drain them, try to step away, try with all you’ve got, or make them leave…” She continued, but he had stopped listening.

“Save your breath, Ida. I’ve been doing everything in my power. I promise no one is going to die.”

He downed his drink, set down the glass and walked toward the door. She was close behind him, but didn’t speak. He opened the door and turned to give her a nod, and walked to his car without looking back. As he peeled down her driveway to the road, he caught sight of her, standing motionless in the doorway. A slight pang of guilt came over him for interrupting her as she was trying to give him advice, but he didn’t want to hear any more talk. She wasn’t standing in his shoes, and though she had a little over a hundred years on him, she had confirmed that she had never felt anything like this.

He hit the button to let down the drop top of his Porsche. It was a clear night with a light breeze, typical of the best of the Chicago fall. As he sped down the road, his secretary called.

“Mr. Black, a new client called in today, asking if we could get her a place to stay.”

The words were out of her mouth like it wasn’t the dumbest call she’d ever made.

We buy and sell properties day and night, why bother me with this call? he wondered.

“Janet, you know we can get them housed, why are you calling me? Make an appointment,” he barked, hanging up before she could respond. Immediately it rang again, showing the same calling number - still Janet. Janet Morris had only been a vampire for twenty years, and she’d been working for him for over ten of them. She worked at night, like most of his vampire employees, because she couldn’t tolerate the daylight. He’d always thought she was smart, but at this moment he wondered if she was losing it.

He answered the call.

“Mr. Black, I’m sorry, they want a place tonight, in fact she said in the next hour.” She rushed the words out.

“Janet, what’s their names?” The fact that someone was coming to his business at night asking for a place - they must be a super. Even though all his clients knew his office was open twenty-four hours, most still preferred to do business with his company during the day.

“Yes, of course, she said the Earth sisters, Sir.” He wasn’t sure if he’d heard correctly, and had her repeat the name. They had to be witches, but why would they be seeking refuge in any of his properties? Most witches stayed away from vampires, and he liked to keep away from them as well. He didn’t have anything against them personally, but he preferred to be far away from anyone who could harm him.

“When do they expect to arrive?”

“Sir, they’re here already. She’s actually waiting on the other line.”

He wanted to get this behind him. “Get the money up front. And put them somewhere far away from my place.” He disconnected, and pulled up outside a strip club. A couple of his donors worked here. He needed relief; the thirst was tempting him to run his car into a pole, but nothing would happen except that his car would be totaled.

The music was loud, and with every step the vibrations buzzed at his feet and in his chest. Men filled the tables and stood all around the walls, drinking, shouting and howling at the women on stage. A couple of braless strippers eyed him, licking their lips seductively, and even several women engaged in giving lap dances made eye contact with him. He paid them no heed; only blood was on his mind. As the music thrummed, he turned his head away; it was an instrumental track, and he liked words with his music; this, here, was the sound of porn music. The three stages, displaying two women dancing in only thongs and one actively stripping as men leaned over the side to stuff money in her thong, invoked only impatience in him as he moved swiftly through the club to the VIP area. His fangs itched to be in someone’s flesh. He took a seat in his usual booth, drawing the privacy curtain across, and soon Brandy, one of his donors, pulled aside the veil and entered, wearing only a thong and bearing a bottle of whiskey. Even though he would usually be banging her, her blood was all he wanted tonight.

“Hey, Markus, what you having tonight?” She licked her lips and swayed her ass towards him. Deadpan, he took the whiskey bottle from her hand and took a long drink, straight from the bottle.

“I’m looking for A positive, can you supply that to me?” His voice was strained with need. He never liked to assume his donors would always be willing, so he made it a point always to ask them. As he watched Brandy, he could hear her heartbeat flutter and speed up. The veins in her neck were calling to him, but he waited for the okay.

She walked over to him and lay down on the lounge, opening her legs to give him better access to his favorite drinking spot.

“Well, don’t make a girl beg you, Markus.”

That was all he needed to hear. He was between her legs at the apex of her thighs, sucking her straight from the vein. He closed his eyes, caught in the moment of his need, and as he gulped he could hear the jump of her heartbeat. With a hiss he released his fangs from her flesh, but as soon as he looked at her, he knew that he might have gone too far. Her eyes were glassy and the color had fled her skin, leaving her looking like a corpse. She was still alive, though. That had to count for something. He sealed the wound, fixed his clothes, dropped a roll of money and walked out quickly. Now he knew he really needed to get the thirst under control. He would be using blood bags until he could figure this out. No longer would he endanger warm-blooded bodies of any kind.

Driving down the road, he decided against going home, and headed for his office. Janet should be there alone. He pulled into the parking garage and took the stairs to the 75th floor. Janet smiled when she saw him and stood, surprised.

“Sir, I wasn’t expecting you. Is there anything I can get you?” she asked nervously.

She had nothing to worry about; he wasn’t there to check up on her, but to find out about the witches. He avoided dealing with them, and for good reason. They only trusted each other, and they only ever considered their coven; in their eyes, supers were merely a menace to the earth, and needed to be removed.

In his office he opened the file with their forms and read over it, making sure there was nothing that could cause him trouble in the future. The fact they needed a place to stay at all was suspicious enough. Usually they called their own kind for housing, so there was something odd going on.

He looked at the form and everything looked okay, but he was not taking any chances. He called a few trusted human employees, and instructed them to hang around near the property where the witches would be staying, and report back to him about any suspicious activity. After he was done, he leaned back, pushing into the oversized leather chair. He took a few deep breaths and blew out slowly, trying to control the rising thirst determined to ruin him.

When he left the building and started the drive home, the address was still in his head. He decided a drive-by wouldn’t hurt; in any case, he would be going so fast they would never see him.

He took off, still not quite sure why he was heading that way. As he neared the place, the streets were clear and everything was quiet, but that all changed as he turned down a long street lined on both sides with condos. With the top down, there was nothing to slow the passage of air, and all at once he was bathed in it, intoxicated with the sweetest smell of blood he’d ever encountered.

He parked quickly. Two witches were leading someone into the building. The smell hit him again, punching into his senses, and he was out of the car and running towards the three women, until one looked up, and with a snap of her fingers they were gone. He opened the door to the building and ran up the stairs - he had to get to that sweet fluid, and he made it to their door, but when he raised his hand to knock he was thrown back against the wall.

“Shit,” he said to himself. “They’ve spelled the fucking door, probably the entire apartment!” He went back to the door, careful not to touch it, and sniffed the air, but the smell was gone, along with the witch to whom it belonged.

“I’ll be back,” he yelled at the door. They might be able to keep him away tonight, but that would all change tomorrow.

He got back into his car, more annoyed than ever, and drove home for some much-needed rest.

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