Healing The Vampire

Vivianne

The sounds of slapping flesh and wet messy sex fill the room along with moans and pants, I reach for Calen and tug on his hair at the base of his neck, pulling his mouth to mine in a deep kiss, as I moan into his mouth.

“Yes, Calen, please, harder, I need it harder baby.” Moaning as his hips strike mine as he plunges his hard cock into my wet pussy.

He chuckles, “You need me to fuck this hot wet pussy baby? Need me to pound you into the mattress and make you cum all over this hard dick?”

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby, I need that please.” He kisses me again and then starts to fuck me harder pushing me deeper into the mattress beneath us.

He grips the back of my neck to keep me from sliding up the bed with the force of his thrusts, “Fuck baby, I need this pretty kitty to purr for me, get me all nice and wet baby, let me feel you squeeze me.” I pant, arching, and moaning as I push back against his thrusts, fucking myself against him, the slapping sounds increasing.

I open my eyes and look deep into his, “God I love you, baby.” He smiles down at me and begins to bite and nibble on my neck.

A little is okay, but if he starts to bite too much there it will bother me, he doesn’t spend too much time, moving around and then coming back to kiss me again, I can feel my orgasm building and I want to cum for him, he likes to feel me cum, it excites him.

His eyes are shining so bright as he looks down at me with so much love, “Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum.”

He grins, “That’s my girl, you cum for me nice and hard, baby.”

Smiling up at him and as I feel the waves of pleasure start to hit me his face suddenly falls, he loses his smile, and his face goes grey, and he stops moving, “Calen, what’s wrong, baby? You okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, just makes a small choked sound, and then suddenly blood starts to run and drip from his nose and land in small splats against my bare chest. I can see the color of the blood as it contrasts against my pale creamy skin, the bright red drops falling one after another. Then, more blood starts to run from his tear ducts, and adds to the drops hitting my flesh underneath him.

Panicking, I grab his face, “Calen, Calen, what’s happening!”

I suddenly jolt upright, disoriented and breathing heavy. I can feel tears running down my cheeks. It takes me a moment, but then I suddenly realize I'm in my car, parked along the side of a dark and abandoned road in practically the middle of nowhere.

I rest my head back against the headrest just trying to catch my breath, rubbing my hands against my face, effectively wiping away the tears.

Fuck, I hate when I dream about him, that wasn’t even the way it happened. No, my brain just inserts some random fucked up shit emphasising that he is gone. So, then I get hit with the grief of losing him. It didn’t matter what way my fucked up dreams decided to torment me, like what I saw tonight, the bottom line was that he is gone, period.

I try to breathe and center myself, like I do before I step into the operating theatre at work. There it’s imperative, as a surgeon, to steady my hands and clear my mind. There’s no room for thinking about anything except the patient I'm currently working to help and save.

I can’t alter the fact that he’s gone forever, and I have to live with that, but now, I'm tougher, smarter, and more capable, and I’ll be damned if I will face that type of devastation or loss again. Perhaps that’s part of the whole problem and why the fuck I'm out here in the boonies to begin with.

Placed on mandatory medical leave due to excessive physical exhaustion. How the hell does that go over for a doctor? I'd survived medical school, and residency, so you'd think I'd be basically immune to exhaustion, but apparently not. I fucking passed out, it was so humiliating. I am strong and capable, a valued professional and important member of the surgical team, but then I dropped, right there in front of the patients, just passed the fuck out.

I've been diagnosed with excessive physical fatigue, and my boss, Dr. Michael Turner explained to me that either I could take a much-needed vacation and rest, or he would be forced to terminate me. He couldn’t have the possibility of me passing out while working on a patient, the hospital would be liable for something like that, not to mention I could be sued for malpractice. What if I were so tired that I did something horrible to a patient?

Fuck, I know he's right but I hate it. I needed to work, I needed to stay busy, or else the demons chasing me catch up. They already beat the hell out of me when my eyes closed, and I tried to sleep, case in point having that damn nightmare while passed out in my stupid car.

I checked the time on my phone and realized it's 1:30 a.m. I haven't seen any road signs for a bit. I had been having trouble keeping my eyes open, so I’d pulled over thinking I’d just rest my eyes for a few minutes then continue on to the next town and get a motel room. Now, it was several hours later, dark, and I'm not sure exactly where I am.

I debate about what the best course of action would be. The last town I’d stopped in to grab a cup of coffee and take a bathroom break is a couple of hours behind me, so it wouldn't make sense to drive all the way there and do all that backtracking. No, the best thing would be to get to the next town, it shouldn’t be that much further.

I looked around outside, about to start the vehicle, when I was sure I saw a large shape run past a few feet in front of my car. My breath stalled in my chest and I froze.