So we're at the end (I *think*... since I thought I had ended this story last year) of our little vampire tale. Big thanks to Miz for betaing this! Quick warning: There be butt stuff in this chapter.
I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~
Chapter 3 - Vehemence -
(vehemence: vigorous impetuosity; fury)
"It'ssokay, love. Seeyasooon."
Molly's words were barely audible and slurred together, but Sherlock understood them nevertheless. As he pulled away from her, he couldn't help the feeling of devastation that overtook him. Just seconds before he'd been near mindless in the throes of passion and feeding, now all he could feel was emptiness.
This was the moment he'd feared the most. From the second the words had left her mouth a year ago, Sherlock had known two things. One: Molly wasn't going to change her mind. Two: carrying out her wishes would be the hardest thing he'd ever done.
"Molly..?" he whispered, knowing there'd be no answer.
He had tried to prepare himself, but as it turned out, there was no preparing oneself for killing the most important person in their life. She really was gone.
Sitting back, he wiped his mouth, then checked his watch. He had a few seconds to collect himself before he needed to begin. After several deep yet pointless breaths, he stood, carelessly jerked on a pair of sleep pants, and hurried out the door. Moments later, he returned with an IV pole and a bag of warmed blood. His blood.
Finding her vein was not at all difficult. He'd not completely drained her, just taken enough blood to stop her heart. His previous unsavoury habits combined with his new appetite made Sherlock an expert at vein hunting. Carefully, he slid the needle into the faint blue mark in the bend of her arm and secured it. Once he had the line placed all he could do was wait.
After months of research and consultation with the doctors and experts at the VU, he had come up with the idea of starting the process intravenously. His hope was that it would make her transformation much less painful than his own. He also hoped that taking her blood more gently and during lovemaking would keep her from experiencing extensive memory loss. Though Sherlock was more than grateful that the recall of his Turning was spotty at best, he knew Molly would prefer to remember this night.
He watched for a few more moments as his blood emptied into Molly's limp figure before getting up to find a flannel to clean her neck. The bite mark over her carotid had already healed, but some blood had escaped as he had fed. Mostly, he just felt like he needed to be doing something while the woman he loved lay lifeless in their bed.
Finally, the bag was empty. After replacing it quickly, Sherlock retrieved a scalpel and sliced his wrist. One bag should have been enough to start the process, but he wanted to feed her directly as she took the subsequent bags. He needed to feel that connection with her.
Molly's mouth didn't move for exactly twenty-six seconds.
Those were the longest twenty-six seconds of Sherlock's life.
Then… she started to suck. So gently at first that he hardly felt it, but the light pressure against his flesh was quite possibly the best thing he'd ever felt.
She was alive… well, sort of.
He looked up and saw that bag was draining much quicker. Molly's instincts were drawing the blood into her body, sucking it through the tubing at an alarming speed. The bag was empty within a matter of minutes.
Sherlock pulled his wrist away, causing Molly to moan in frustration, and rushed for another bag of his blood. After hanging it, he gave her his wrist again. She was much more alert now, bringing her hands up, holding his arm in place.
"Fucking hell," he mumbled as she fed. She was already incredibly strong. Her small hands held him tightly, her nails cutting into his arm as she drank from his vein. He wasn't sure if it was natural upon waking; there had been varying reports from the other vampires at the VU about their Awakenings. Some felt hungry, others tired, while a few felt alert and quite powerful. Sherlock hypothesised that it had to do with the amount of vampire blood that had been imbibed directly after, but he had no concrete evidence. Most didn't know or remember their Sire.
He was distracted, checking on the bag once again, when he realised that Molly had let go of his arm. Looking down, he found her staring at him through bright fuchsia coloured eyes.
Pink? he wondered as he felt his cock hardening. He wasn't quite prepared for that. Though, admittedly, he hadn't speculated about Molly's colour much at all.
It was yet another thing he'd discovered at the VU. All vampires expressed some colour in their eyes when they fed or were hungry. It wasn't, as Molly had assumed, a mixture of blood and the existing colour, but more of an expression of personality, for lack of a better explanation.
"Sherlock," she said, her voice rough and low.
The fact that she recognised him instantly was a very good sign. "Yes, love. You're going to be fine."
She managed a shaky smile. "Told you."
"Of course you did." He wiped her face clean of his blood. "But right now you need to rest and take at least one more bag."
That drew her attention to the IV pole next to the bed. "Whose…?"
"It's mine. Don't worry. I have several bags of human blood as well, but let's see how you feel..."
She closed her eyes for a moment as her head lolled to the side. This time, the blood drained even faster. At least twice as quickly as before. By the time the bag was nearly empty, Molly was moaning, her arms and legs twitching as her head started to thrash.
"What's wrong, Molly?" Sherlock asked, leaning over the newborn vampire.
"More," she said with a groan, pulling him closer with surprising strength.
Perhaps it was time for the human variation. It was entirely possible that feeding solely on vampiric blood wasn't enough to provide the necessary nourishment she needed. "Let me get you one of the donor bags."
Shaking her head, she said, "You. Want you."
She had barely taken any from him directly. The blood in the bags had been drawn the day before. He had plenty to give.
"Of course." He started to reach for the scalpel again as the cut on his wrist had already mostly healed but Molly grabbed him, holding his wrist tightly. "What, my love? What do you need?" he asked, not understanding why she had stopped him.
"You," she growled before ripping the IV out of her arm and flipping Sherlock onto his back. "I need you, Sherlock!" Her lips descended on his, forcefully wrenching them open; her tongue invaded his mouth, dominating, demanding.
It was like she was possessed. He had known that if she woke up immediately and if she wasn't ill from the Turning that there was a chance that she'd become frenzied. That was the reason he'd given her so much of his blood. He didn't want her experiencing the same all-consuming hunger that he vaguely remembered feeling. But this, this felt like something else altogether.
As she ended the kiss - which seemed to have gone on forever, especially now that neither of them needed to breathe - she pulled back, her fuchsia eyes sparkling with just a hint of malice. "Hungry, Sherlock," she growled.
How was she still hungry? He had given her plenty. "I told you, Molly, I have more blood. I can…"
Shaking her head, she leaned up further then scooted down his body. "I'm not hungry for blood!" she said before she literally ripped the sleep pants off of his body, exposing his half hard cock. She smiled, never taking her eyes off of his member. "That's what I need."
When she took him into her mouth, Sherlock nearly bucked her off of the bed. Though his lover had gone down on him many, many times before, nothing compared to this. It felt like she was trying to suck the life out of him. He'd gone from half hard to granite in a millisecond.
She took him fast and deep. He could feel his cock going further down her throat with every pass. And her tongue! God help him it was magnificent! He was on the brink of coming within minutes.
"Molly!" he cried out, trying to warn her.
Suddenly, she released him, sitting back on her heels.
Sherlock stared, mouth agape as he watched her spread her legs and slip her hand over her hairless mound. "I'm gonna fuck you, Sherlock. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she said as she rubbed herself.
All he could do was nod.
"Mmm…" She pulled her hand out, glistening with her juices, and he watched as it disappeared between his thighs. He thought she was going to stroke him with her wet hand until…
"Fuck, Molly!" He felt a single digit slip between his buttocks and play with the tight ring of his anus. He was not prepared for that!
"Tell me to stop, Sherlock," she demanded. "Tell me you don't like it and I'll never do it again." Her voice was rough and sultry.
He opened his mouth to… well, he wasn't sure what he was going to say, still too shocked to really manage much. But then his desire took over, speaking for him. "Oh God, don't stop...fuck!" He found himself moaning as he pushed against her finger, urging her to go deeper. She didn't let up, prodding his pucker with a wicked grin on her face.
It wasn't as if this was a first for him, he'd just never expected it from Molly Hooper.
She moved her finger with skill, never too much, never too rough. She was clearly looking for something. The deeper she went, the closer he was to the edge. He had barely held off his orgasm before. Suddenly he was closer than ever. Then, she found what she was looking for. "Gonna… come!" he growled as she gently rubbed his prostate with the tip of her finger. Fuck, he'd forgotten how good it felt and how it made him come like a madman. "Molly…" He was trying to hold off - make it last - but she was pushing him to the brink.
"Come for me! We know you have an amazing recovery time." Her hand closed around his shaft as she skillfully worked his cock, all the while fucking him with her finger. "Do you feel it, love? That sweet burn at the base of your spine? That belongs to me and I want it! Give it to me, Sherlock! Now!"
As she lowered her head once again, he expected her to take him into her mouth, but she didn't. Her teeth entered his femoral artery instead and his world started to explode. She stroked him and fucked him and fed from him simultaneously and he felt as if his entire body was coming. He could feel it in every pore, every blood vessel, every hair follicle. It was beyond description!
His eyes were closed tightly as he trembled with aftershocks of the intense orgasm when he felt pressure on his chest. Looking up, he found his lover sat across his pectorals, a devious grin on her face. "My turn?" she asked, almost innocently.
"Of course, anything you want. Lie down," he said, more than happy to oblige.
Molly shook her head then started moving. Placing a knee on either side of his head, she reached forward, gripping his hair tightly. "Make me come, Sherlock." Her bright pink eyes shone with desire and something else he couldn't quite place. Power, perhaps. Was his beautiful, kind, gentle Molly a red? Her eye colour certainly leant to the possibility.
Reds, and variations such as pink or orange, usually meant stronger, more domineering personalities. Or at least that had been his experience at the VU. Blues tended to point toward intelligence and cunning. Sherlock, being an intellectual as well as a bossy, demanding dickhead most of the time, ended up with purple eyes. A combination of two strong traits expressing themselves even moreso when his vampiric personality took over. The brighter, more vibrant the colour, the stronger the vampire was in a general sense.
In other words, Molly was going to be magnificent.
"I'm waiting, Sherlock," she said, drawing his attention to the exposed quim hovering just above his face.
"Anything you wish, my love." He gripped her hips, bringing her beautiful, dripping cunt closer to his face, and then he feasted.
She truly was amazing. As soon as his tongue touched her labia, Molly sunk even lower, smothering him. Thankfully, he had very little need for oxygen and was able to lap at her folds with abandon as she ground against his face. I love being a vampire, he thought as he sucked her clitoris into his mouth, causing his lover to thrash above him. She screamed out his name and he felt fluid splash against his chin as she came.
With unnatural speed, Molly extracted herself from around his shoulders and he looked up to find her kneeling next to his hip on the bed.
"Oh look!" she said, as her fingertips danced along his hip. "You're getting hard again." Taking his cock in hand as she laughed, almost evilly. "I've been right several times today. This must be what it feels like to be you."
She seemed perfectly healthy, though her aggressiveness was a bit worrying (if not incredibly erotic). By all accounts, everything had gone to plan, but… "Molly? Are you feeling okay?" he asked as she gently stroked him.
"Never better, my love! And how are you?"
He huffed out a laugh. "Ah, good. Very… good."
"Excellent! This feels incredible, Sherlock. I feel like I could fuck forever!"
Definitely too much vampire blood. To his defense, he had been working purely on conjecture. But not being one to squander an opportunity, Sherlock sat up and pulled her into a passionate kiss. His blood would eventually filter through her system and she should, theoretically, return to normal. He just had no idea how long that would take.
As he broke the kiss he said, "Luckily for us, forever is just about how long we have. Now, what can I do to satisfy your newfound desire?"
She bit her lip adorably then said, "I have... ideas."
"Really? Such as?"
"Riding your cock until you can't walk," she answered, all playfulness leaving her tone. "Then riding it again."
Oh, fuck, he thought as he studied his lover. "What have I done?"
"You created a monster, Sherlock." She pushed him back onto the bed and straddled his thighs. "But, lucky for you, you have many lifetimes to tame me," she added as she leant down and captured his lips with hers.
Not a chance, he thought as he kissed the vampire he loved and planned to worship for as long as they 'lived'.
All right. PLEASE let me know if you liked it. I'd really love to hear from you. Thanks for reading. ~Lil~