This section does contain sex. Although I consider this scene less graphic than part 7, the sex in it is a bit, shall we say, wilder? No, there are no whips, chains, or spankings. No rope or body oil either. Let's just say though, that no matter how much you may love someone, sometimes love doesn't always come into the picture and what both of you need is a good bout of lust.
If this offends anyone, I am sorry.
By JF Jackson
Part Eleven
Getting backstage turned out to be easy. Remy walked up to the goons told him his name and that he wanted to speak to Rhiannon.
"I don't know if she wants to speak to you," one of them answered.
"Why don' you ask her?" Remy suggested. "I can wait here."
"I don't know if I want to go back there. It's a long walk. Hardly worth it."
Remy reached into his pocket for a moment, hunching his shoulders as if giving up. Then, he pulled his hands out of his pockets. "It would really mean a lot t'me if you would be willin' t'ask Rhiannon if she'll see me," he said. Taking the man's hand, he shook it, casually. "An awful lot."
When their hands separated, Remy's pockets were ten dollars lighter. The bill went from the man's hand to his pocket in a flash. "Well, okay. I'll see if she wants to see you."
Less than two minutes later, the man returned. "Yeah, she'll see you," he said, opening the door so he could get backstage. "Second door on the left."
"T'ank you."
The man did not even bother to answer, feeling that he had done enough for him. Remy did not care. He walked in back, going to the door and knocking.
"It's open," Rhiannon called out.
He twisted the knob and walked inside. The room was small and dingy, a make up mirror against one wall, a ratty sofa along another. He could not see Rhiannon. "Rhian?" he called out.
Suddenly the door shut behind him, he whirled around. Rhiannon was standing; her back pressed to the door. She reached behind her and latched the door. "Hello, Remy."
She was staring at him,
her eyes glittering almost too brightly, flickering from color to
color.
"'Ello, Rhiannon," he said, "Why you lock de
door?"
"So we won't be disturbed," Rhiannon said calmly. "I've got half an hour before the next set." She moved towards him, slowly.
"What did you t'ink we were gonna do in dat half-hour?" he asked, fighting the urge to move away as she advanced closer. It was as if she was tightly wound tonight, and at any moment, something would break and who knew what would happen.
"Oh, I don't know exactly, but I have a few ideas "
"Like what?"
Before the t in what finished coming from his lips, she grabbed him by his shirt and literally flung him to the couch. Lightning fast, she leaped on top of him, straddling his waist, her knees pressing into this thighs. "Oh, I don't know whatever comes natural." Her eyes had settled on red, at least for now.
He looked up at her. "Gonna rape me, Chere?"
Her eyes flickered to blue for a moment, then back to red. "Can you rape the willing?"
"If you try hard enough." He managed to grin. In truth, he was on the verge of being frightened by her, but he would be damned if he would show it to her.
She reached down and started unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt. "I want," she whispered. "I need."
"What do you want? What do you need?" he asked.
"You, me, us, blood." She ran her hands over his chest.
"You hungry?"
She nodded, grinding her hips into his. Despite his worry, he could feel his body beginning to respond. "Not just for blood," she whispered. Deftly, her fingers unzipped his pants. Reaching in, she grabbed his member and began stroking it.
He was only human. A groan escaped his lips as his body began responding to her touch. His hands moved, his fingers burying themselves in her hair. He leaned over and kissed her lips, hard. He reached up and began working the buttons to her pants. They fastened on either side, a zipper that ran down the length of the legs. He got the buttons on either side undone then began tugging at the zippers.
"Wait, let me." She moved off him, standing up and finished unzipping the pants. They fell on the floor and she kicked them behind her impatiently. While she was doing that, Remy thought he ought to finish taking off his jeans, but he just watched her, a small smile playing on his lips.
When the pants were gone, she took off the vest, tossing that to the side. She looked at him. "You're still dressed."
"Oui," he agreed, still smiling.
She walked over and stood at the end of the couch by his feet. She pulled off his shoes, tossing them to the side. Leaning over, she grabbed onto the waist of his jeans and tugged them, pulling them off him and inside out. "Hardly fair," she growled.
He said up. "You right, it isn't fair." He took off his shirt. "Now we equal. Dat better?"
"Much better," she said, her voice a low growl. She leaned forward, falling over the arm of the sofa, on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up further so their chests were touching. She buried her face in his neck, kissing and licking at it.
"'Ow much time do we 'ave?" he whispered into her ear.
"Not long," she whispered back, "But don't worry."
"I wo-" he began and stopped abruptly as her fangs sank into his neck. There was that immediate flash of pain, then she was pulling the blood from him, just minute amounts, and easing the rapture into him steadily.
Don'makemeforget! he thought.
I won't, I promise, she answered.
It was the last rational thought for both of them. The gentle easing into his pleasure center stopped as the taste of his blood ignited her passions. Unable to control herself, she began pushing it into him as fast as she could.
If there was any doubt inside him as to what they were doing and the motives behind it, they vanished in a flash. A cross between a growl and a moan escaped his lips and his hands began moving over her, along her sides and back. He moved one hand between them, running it up her stomach, over her breasts. His thumb and finger closed around one nipple, pinching it lightly.
She took only a little bit, but it was all they needed. Her lips withdrew from his neck and she nipped her tongue, licking the puncture holes shut almost instantly. When she raised her head from his neck, he moved his hand to the back of her neck, pushing her lips to his. He kissed her again, sliding his tongue into her mouth, running it over her teeth. Her own tongue began twining with his, as if performing some bizarre dance in her mouth, her hips grinding into his.
Suddenly, she broke free, looking down at him. "Let's get one thing straight, right now."
He stared at her. "What's dat?"
"I don't want to make love." She moved off him, standing next to the sofa, looking down at him
He sat up. "What?" he almost screamed at her. "You grab me, practically rip my clothes off, take your own off and now you don' wanna make love? What dis all about den, you t'ink we should have a little talk?" Calm down! part of his mind ordered, but he could not. The fire she had fed into him, the feel of her body had him feeling out of control.
"No!"
"Den what do you want?" he demanded, rising from the sofa and standing in front of her.
"I wanna fuck," she snarled.
"Fine!" He felt as if he was out of control. Grabbing her, he put his arms around her, lifting her off her feet. Her legs raised, wrapping around his waist. He walked a few steps forward, until she was pressed up against the wall. "I t'ink I can do dat," he growled. He moved his hands under her arms, raising her up higher, sliding her back along the wall.
"Then shut the hell up and do it!" As she spoke, she moved her hips, seeking him out. The tip of his member slid along the length of her, then found her opening. Something that sounded like a cross between a growl and a moan came from her mouth.
Eyes fixed on hers; Remy slammed his hips forward, sealing himself inside her with one stroke. "Dat what you want?" he asked, his voice sounding like it was coming from the back of his throat. "Dat what you need?"
"Yes!" she screamed the word.
"Den dat's what you get!" As if possessed, he began moving in and out of her, faster and faster, slamming her into the wall. Her head moved from side to side, her teeth clenched. "Like dis?"
"Yes!" She gasped, her eyes squeezing shut. "Yes, yes, YES!"
He felt as if part of him was lost inside of this strange union. Nothing mattered, not where they were or who they were. The only thing that counted was what they were doing, the faintly pink tinged sweat that began covering her body as he moved inside of her, the way her legs pressed into his sides as he moved, faster and faster inside her, as if trying to start a fire with the friction.
With the rapture running through his mind, the feeling of her body surrounding him, he knew he would not be able to keep this up for long. "C'mon, Rhian," he growled. "Catch up wit' me."
Her head suddenly snapped back, sliding against the wall, her eyes flying open. Her body stiffened her legs locking around him as if never intending to let him go. "Ohhhhhh!"
He lost control completely, slamming forward one last time. A low noise, some sort of cross between a gurgle and a moan rose from his lips. He gasped, realizing for the last minute or so, he had not even been breathing.
Her arms wrapped around him, pulling his head to her chest. Leaning over, she kissed the top of his head, repeatedly. His legs started feeling weak. Unable to stop, he started sliding down, holding onto her. They fell to the floor in a jumbled mess. It was not until later that he would wonder why neither of them did not get hurt with that little stunt.
For several minutes they stayed on the floor, holding each other, not speaking, bodies shaking. He felt his mind slowly coming together again, the cloud of passion that had his brain in a lock subsiding, rational thought returning. "Mon Dieu," he whispered.
She smiled, her eyes half closed into cat slits, a smug expression on her face. "Remy?"
"What?"
"Thanks, I needed that."
It took a second for her words to register. When they did, he chucked. "Anytime, Chere."
They moved apart. "Remy, I'm going to have to get ready for the second half of the show soon," she said, looking down to the floor, her hair falling, obscuring her face.
"I know dat," he said softly.
"I-I'm sorry about how I acted," she whispered.
"When?" he asked, puzzled.
"Just now. And when I sang. And for when you were talking to that girl earlier. I shouldn't have been so rude."
"Actually, I wish you'd been ruder," he said, moving closer and putting his hand on her shoulder. "Rhiannon, I didn' wanna talk t'her. She sorta invited herself t'sit down. I was tryin' t'get rid of her when you showed up."
She looked up, pushing her hair over her shoulders, away from her face. "It doesn't matter, Remy. I-I have no hold on you. You are free to do what you want, with whoever you want to."
He tipped his head to one side and moved his hand so his arm was around her, his hand going to her other shoulder. "Rhiannon, I like bein' wit' you. I-I don' really want t'be wit' anyone else."
"I don't either," she confessed. "D-does this mean we're agreeing to only, uh, see each other?"
He paused, surprised for a moment as he thought about what she said. He had not expected this, but now that it was out in the open, it made sense. "Oui, I guess we are."
She looked at him and smiled. "I-I like that idea, Remy. I like it a lot."
"You know what, Chere? So do I."