WAR: Passion Play

Passion Play

April 20th

Camille had been different. They had met at a nightclub in Madrid.  At first, he hadn’t been sure he was dealing with a vampire.  He’d thought the petite red head delicate and enchanting.

Nikolai had allowed himself to be seduced by her.  He always enjoyed that part of the hunt.  Bedding women was a favorite hobby.

Camille had known he was immortal.  Not many vampires knew of his kind and vice verse.  She had wanted to know about him and they had spent hours talking.  Not only was he incredibly attractive, she actually found him quite interesting as well.

He hadn’t really known for sure that the woman was a vampire until it was too late.  He had taken her to his hotel and into his bed.  The Russian hadn’t seen her eyes or thought to look as they frantically undressed each other, never breaking physical contact.

It wasn’t until Nikolai was deep inside her murmuring Russian endearments into her ear, that he saw the unnatural glow of her
eyes.  He startled for just a moment before she caught his eyes and cupped his face with a delicate hand.

“I won’t harm you.” Camille assured him. “I’ve fed well tonight. I want your body, not your blood.”

He didn’t need to think about it.  Nikolai couldn’t have stopped, even if he wanted to.  His body, consumed by lust and raw need, demanded he continue.

The immortal resumed his slow, deep thrusts.  Camille purred and wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him to move faster.  He smirked down at her and continued at the same maddeningly steady pace.

She flipped him with a growl.  It was a surprising show of strength for such a small woman.  Nikolai gasped as she started moving at her own pace, taking him faster and deeper. His head sank into the pillow and he let out a low moan. His hands grasped her slim hips, driving her down onto him.

A few minutes later, the Russian felt himself nearing his peak. He placed a hand behind her head, claiming her mouth in a searing kiss.  With the vampire’s body crushed against his own, he rolled them so he was again on top and in control.

Their joining became frenzied as they both came closer to completion.  Camille’s cries of pleasure mingled with his grunts and moans.  Mortal women were satisfying most times.  But every once in a while, Nikolai enjoyed a night of rough, no-holds barred passion.

The vampire’s skin glistened with blood sweat.  Her nails raked his back, leaving bloody scratches.  The smell of the heady immortal blood was almost too much.

“I… I need…” The vampire panted against his neck, nipping and licking at him.

“What do you need Millashka moya?” He asked in a breathy whisper.

“Blood… I have to bite… I need to.”

He’d been bitten once before.  He was lucky to have survived that night.  The immortal had come up behind a female while she fed.  The bitch had gotten her teeth into his neck before he’d had a chance to kill her.

He had been able to gut her with his sword, nearly cutting her in half, but she’d ripped out a huge chunk of his neck and jugular when she fell.  Her head was neatly severed just before the darkness engulfed him.

Nikolai had bled to death in the alley next to a pile of dust, just a few feet away from the bloodless corpse.  He’d woken up in his hotel room with no clue how he’d gotten there. He knew he’d somehow dragged himself to safety, but had no memory of doing it.

“It will be pleasurable for you… I’ve been with immortals before… You just need to relax.”

She’d said she wouldn’t hurt him. At that point in time, he’d allow her nearly anything as long as he could reach his impending release.  When he was right on the edge, he gave a quick nod.

The bite was gentle, very unlike the brutality of the other one.  Camille didn’t strike hard, merely slipped her fangs into his vein.  His gasp of pleasure was nearly drowned out by the vampire’s growl.

She tightened her arms and legs around him, holding the immortal in a vice like grip. Her body shook violently beneath his as she peaked.

His gasp as she tightened around him ended in a passionate cry.  The world seemed to shatter around him as he shuddered and emptied himself into her willing body.

The immortal was surprised when it was the vampire’s life that flashed before his eyes and not his own. He knew his whole life was being communicated to her through his blood.

He was still enjoying the last fading waves of his pleasure when he realized the vampire wasn’t letting go. Camille was going to drain him.

Damn. Well, at least he’d die happy.  Now that she knew he hunted her kind, Nikolai hoped she wouldn’t break her word and take his head before he revived.

Her toes were still curled from the amazingly powerful orgasm when Camille felt the life leaving his body.  He was still inside her when his heart slowly stopped beating.


Nikolai came awake with a loud gasp, his body launching up from the bed.  The vampire was still there, lounging next to him.  His exquisite, muscular, body was still unclothed.

Camille put a hand on his back between the powerful shoulders, while the other rested against his broad chest.

“It’s alright.” She said gently.

He looked at her surprised. “You stayed?”

The vampire shrugged and handed him a glass of orange juice.


“I had room service send it up. They give it to mortals when they donate blood.  I never understood why.  Anyway, it can’t hurt.  I know
you’re thirsty.”

He drained the glass in just a few gulps, and then reached for the pitcher on the bedside table, draining it as well.


“So, any plans for tonight?” Gunther asked.

“I thought we’d go out together.” Bourbon responded jauntily.

Camille was already gone seeking out her immortal lover.

“Wait.  Wait a second.  It’s Spring in Paris.  You’re here with your woman.”  The immortal began to tick off on his fingers. ” And you want to spend the evening with me?”

“I’m afraid there will be no room for me in Camille’s bed this evening.” Bourbon threw an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Tonight, my friend, we go wenching!”

The Viking dropped his head back and looked up at the night sky.

“May the gods help us.” He moaned.

They had done this enough times to know exactly what would happen. Bourbon would get completely bullocksed on a mixture of the blood of a virgin, a touch of the finest red wine, and curare.

Gunther just hoped they didn’t end up getting killed again this time.

He heaved a long suffering sigh. “Okay. Fine. I’m in.”

“Oh don’t make it sound like such a chore. You love it and you know it.”

“Just take it easy on the curare, okay?”

“You have your whiskey, ale, and rum. I have curare.” The vampire sniffed.

“Yeah, but just like with alcohol, you’re not supposed to drink it until you black out, and then do something stupid. Or vice verse. I’m tired of getting myself killed.”

“You’re immortal, my friend. What do you care?”

His friend set a quick pace for a club.

“Because it hurts you stupid bastard.” Gunther said under his breath.

About Kristi Deming


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