TITLE: Addicted to You

RATING: M

PAIRING: Pam/Tara

SYNOPSIS: She craved her with an intensity that was unprecedented, every iota of her being screaming for that carnal high that only her mate could provide…

DISCLAIMER: I don't own True Blood. If I did, I would turn it into the Pam and Tara porno show and they would have to move the series from HBO to Skinemax.

A/N: Went to see Cloud Atlas last night. My reaction: mind blown. Literally. I couldn't make heads or tails out of that movie. Watching that movie was like standing in front of one of those abstract paintings; it's beautiful, full of vibrant colors and mystique but you don't quite know what the artist was trying to convey. Thus, after trying to peel my poor brain apart, I simply took the movie with a grain of salt. This is what I got from it:

Love transcends all reason and logic. It is the most powerful emotion a human being will ever feel. If you love someone, you'll sacrifice anything and everything without a moment's hesitation. Love is the stupidest, bravest, boldest and most foolish thing an individual can indulge in. Love is what connects us, the boundaries of space and time having no sway or effect on it. Love is endless, limitless and forever.

Also? The future will look like something out of a Tron movie. I approve.

Okay! Shutting up now. Enjoy the story.

Heat.

Lust.

Desire.

Tara nearly dropped the rock glass she was polishing as a potent, deliberate wave of carnal desire filtered down from Pam's end of the bond only to smack right up between her legs.

She moaned.

Fingers tightening a fraction, the rock glass squeaked in protest, hairline fractures spider-webbing across its transparent surface as Tara's vampiric strength bore down on the hapless object.

The fledging vampire's maker was in a mood.

Tara set the clean but slightly worse for wear barware onto the countertop, her now free hand moving to grip at the counter's edge as Pam slapped her progeny with another vicious miasma of unadulterated want and yearning. It coursed into Tara's end of the bond, seeping into her veins like the most toxic of poisons, polluting nerves that had been rapidly fraying throughout the course of the night.

Her hand lost its grip on the counter top, bringing with it a sizeable sliver of polished wood as Tara's body betrayed her for the third time that night, climaxing in a glorious rapture of shudders and vibrant colors. The dark-skinned vampire blew out a needless yet necessary breath, her orgasm racing through her body like a rambunctious child high on sugar.

Clear across the room, Pam's low, throaty laughter was ringing with the dark notes of satisfaction, the sound the only outward indication of the blonde's triumph.

Sitting on her throne, Pamela Swynford de Beaufort was an exercise in regal beauty. Voluminous cascades of wavy golden-blonde hair sat perfectly about her head, framing a face that made mortals and immortals alike weep with envy. Fangtasia's owner was dressed in figure hugging black leather pants that seemed molded to legs that went on for miles. Calf-length boots of distressed leather bore a slight heel and shiny buckles and a billowing white shirt hugged her torso, its piratical sleeves and open collar making Pam look like a pirate queen straight from some fantasy novel. The shirt was tight enough to raise a generous chest that was already propped up in an enticing manner from a lacy midnight blue bra, adding to the blonde's more than enticing cleavage.

Tara's maker was a walking aphrodisiac. A walking, non-living, non-breathing aphrodisiac that was tailor-made and crafted to trigger every pleasure button Tara housed on her body.

The fledging vampire was made known of this unfortunate fact as she leaned heavily against the side of the bar, her breathing staggered and lids of ebony pulled down to half-mast as she fought furiously for control over her body, which was still in the throes of an all-consuming orgasm.

Situated around the bar was Fangtasia's regular flock of customers. They eyed the bar's resident bartender, the humans confounded and slightly unnerved by the sight of a less than composed vampire. The vampire regulars on the other hand, wore smirks, their eyes lecherous and their expression wanton as their nostrils flared, taking in the not so subtle scent of sex.

Tara had become a walking billboard for the fragrance of arousal and come. Ever since Pam had taken to playing with her all too easily excited baby vampire hormones that night, Tara had been tending bar with shaky legs and the unmistakable aroma of sex.

The dark-skinned vampire cursed her inability to resist her maker, to truly block Pam from the bond they shared. It was possible to mute the emotions from her maker, possible to throw up walls that would dull the intensity of what Pam was feeling. But Tara had learned quickly that building such a barricade between her and her maker left her weak and disoriented, the lack of feeling Pam in the bond akin to having a cavity in her chest. It was disquieting and frankly perturbing for Tara not to feel Pam and so she kept her bond open. Open and wiling to the blonde's onslaught of merciless pleasure.

The bartender straightened, her maker finally desisting with her private method of torture she reserved solely for her mate. For now. Tara squirmed, her skin-tight jeans pressing her all too wet underwear up against sodden, swollen feminine flesh that was far too sensitive at the present moment to allow such pressure against it. She glanced up, waited until Pam turned those hypnotic eyes of cerulean blue on her then bestowed upon her maker, a dirty, unappreciative look.

Pam simply returned her progeny's unimpressed glower with a triumphant smirk of her own, her ego floating on cloud nine at the present time. Sitting clear across the bar, the blonde had managed to induce in Tara, three orgasms in the space of two hours. And she wasn't even in close proximity to her mate. Blue eyes were smug, an almost indiscernible grin of victory pulling up the corners of the blonde's bee-stung lips as Pam regarded Tara with an air of amusement.

Tara shook her head in exasperation but her eyes were brimming with affection and barely contained desire as she tossed her maker a wry smile. Then her expression flattened, eyes of obsidian pleading for a reprieve from the sensual torture that was her maker's emotions.

Pam felt Tara's desperation, felt the tickle of embarrassment and frustration nudging at her end of the bond. She let Tara stew for a few moments, watching desperation and lust war with each other on her progeny's face then acquiesced with a slight nod of her head. She heard her mate's abject sigh of relief then watched with slightly hooded eyes as Tara resumed tending bar.

Pam's self-restraint and promise to refrain from bombarding Tara with a fatal cocktail of ardent longing and lust didn't last long. She was bored and when the blonde was bored, she often resorted to all things wicked. It was just unfortunate for Tara that she was the target of Pam's boredom.

Tara's reprieve from the lust puppy that was her mate lasted all of five minutes before she felt the creep of Pam's desire wash over her again. The bartender groaned silently, wondering what it was she had done in a past life to warrant such intimate punishment. Pushing away the temptation of banging her head against the nearest wall, Tara's back went ramrod straight, jaw clenching and teeth grinding against each other in an almost painful manner as Pam once again began her seduction.

It was deeply unfair that Pam had over a century's knowledge of how a maker/progeny bond worked. More experienced, the blonde could manipulate the bond with ease, contort and influence it to her will.

And right now, Tara's maker was using the bond to create psychic fingers of lust, meant to tease, provoke and arouse. They caressed Tara's end of the bond, dragging down her body and leaving in its wake, flames of want and longing. Tara's body instantly betrayed her, her hormones reacting to Pam's not so subtle hint of carnal desire like a sailor would to a siren's song. A visible tremor assaulted the bartender's body and Tara's fingers left noticeable impressions in the shaker she was holding as Pam continued to stroke her mate between her legs via the bond.

Tara worried the inside of her cheek, almost bloodying the vulnerable flesh as she fought for rudimentary control over her body. She completed the customer's order, took the money and folded it into the till but her knees almost buckled when Pam washed her veins with a wave of potent craving.

"Fuck me," Tara whispered, her voice harsh with equal parts desire and vexation.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" Pam's husky, smoky drawl answered, the blonde's voice carrying over the hypnotic beats thudding out from the bar's speakers. There was such mischievousness in Pam's voice, marred only by the palpable note of want and need.

Need for Tara.

"Stop it," Tara groused underneath her breath, well aware that the vampires that made up a good portion of their clientele were tuning in to their conversation, many a head angling themselves in order to glance at maker and progeny from the corners of their eyes.

Pam responded to Tara's command with a vindictive flurry of lust. It crashed headlong into Tara, scrambling her senses and sending her mind reeling. Eyes of onyx dilated further, a moan escaping from the confines of her throat as Pam wracked havoc on her hormones and body.

"Bitch." The expletive was biting but would have sounded much more severe and convincing had it not had been fringed with desperation. Tara's nerves were already rubbed raw and the insistent throbbing between her legs was a painful reminder that Pam was getting the upper hand. She threw down the wiping cloth, barked an order to Ginger who was hovering nearby to take over then pushed her way out of the bar. She needed fresh air, needed some distance.

She needed a cigarette.

As Tara stalked out of the bar, electric blue eyes followed, the owner's face only the slightest bit remorseful. It would have looked genuine had it not have been for the sly smirk that turned up the corners of Pam's lips.

xxxxxxxx

It was after closing time.

And Pam was ignoring her.

Tara blew out a frustrated breath from her perch on the edge of the desk. Pam was situated behind it, diligently counting receipts.

And deliberately ignoring her very horny mate.

"Pamela…" Tara purposely voiced aloud her maker's full name, knowing the profound effect it had on Pam whenever Tara said it. She inched closer to the blonde, one ebony-hued arm reaching out to twirl a coil of silky golden-blonde hair around her finger. She sifted the soft flaxen strands between her thumb and forefinger, delighting at its texture, reveling in this simple manner of tactile contact.

"I want you," Tara enticed, her voice all but dripping sex. Her legs widened, allowing the musky, heady aroma of her desire to waft into the air. Her lips twisted, a satisfied purr aching to come bounding out from full lips as she watched Pam's nostrils flare and a pink tongue to peek out to wet her lips.

Her jubilation didn't last. A midnight gaze turned from a shining beacon of conquest to dull chips of disappointment as they observed Pam drop a nonchalant mask over the model-esque features of her face.

"Damn it," Tara hissed out, frustration etched on every syllable. She used the hold she had on her mate's lock of hair to tug impatiently and somewhat urgently on the flaxen strands. "Pam!"

"Keep it up and my head won't be between your legs tonight or any other night," the blonde returned, her voice impassive, her cadence softly cautioning. She didn't look up as she issued her warning, eyes of a pure sapphire blue locked onto the sheaf of receipts her fingers were riffling through at vamp speed.

Tara bit off a colorful curse, dropping the lock of golden-blonde hair from between her fingers. She scooted a little away from Pam, the blonde's close proximity to her over-stimulated body nothing short of torture. It pissed her off that Pam's flagrant dismissal of her mate's needs only served to turn her on.

This hot and cold power play that maker and progeny were engaging in? It was foreplay to them. The delicate balance of dominance and submission, the gift of acknowledgement and the slap of rejection.

Tara's body hummed with desire, her pores stinking of lust. She cast a hooded, smoldering glance at her maker, her gaze contemplative as she pondered just how to make Pam break.

The answer came to her in a sudden flash of inspiration:

She would have to take matters into her own hands. Literally.

A cunning smirk graced the youthful features of Tara's face and she scooted back to sit further up the desk. Her legs fell open, the act deliberate and meant to taunt. One hand moved up to the collar of her plaid shirt, popping open the button near her cleavage. Nimble fingers continued in its quest to unbutton Tara's shirt, the fledging vampire moaning softly, wantonly as her fingers would intermittently brush against newly revealed cocoa skin.

Shirt now open to reveal a simple black bra, Tara wasted no time as she took her left breast in one hand, fingers kneading at the pillow-y flesh. She hummed when she felt her nipple stiffen beneath her palm, moaned when her other hand grazed over her neglected breast before meandering down to a well-sculpted stomach. She mapped each protruding abdominal muscle with careful traces of her fingertips, the pads of her fingers ascending and sliding down each nook and crevice made by her chiseled muscles.

The hand on her breast switched sides, moving to lave carnal attention on the right one. She pinched her nipple through the material of her bra, rolling the stiffened peak between her thumb and forefinger. The hand on her stomach moved again, trailing languid fingers down an expanse of delicious, flawless ebony skin until they reached the v of her hips. There, her fingers met the top of her jeans, the rough denim material sending a thrill of sensation bursting through her fingertips. She walked supple fingers to the button of her jeans, popped it open with an expert nudge then grasped the lip of the zipper only to pull it down with aching slowness.

Tara's breaths were coming out in short, staggered pants, the act unnecessary but justifiable given the way she was playing her body like a well-tuned instrument. The vampire slipped a hand beneath the waistband of panties that were beyond ruined, having come in them a grand total of three times during the course of the night. When the tips of her fingers met with abundant, tepid wetness, Tara moaned long and loud.

She was wet, embarrassingly so. Wet and aching to be touched, her feminine folds soaked in her desire and swollen with arousal. Her clit protruded between the lips of her cunt, eager and erect for attention. She grazed it with the tip of her thumb and even this light, barely there touch sent her hormones into a tizzy. They whizzed about her body, screaming for more, drunk on the washes of lust and desire that flooded her veins.

Tara bit her lip as she applied more pressure to the bundle of nerves, her fingers trailing through wet folds and pools of her arousal. The air around her was busy with the musky, heady and intoxicating scent of her desire, the smell of it making the vampire's eyes roll to the back of her head. She retracted her hand and they emerged from her underwear with fingers that glistened with the evidence of her desire.

Tara lifted her damp fingers to her lips, sucking them into her mouth. The taste of herself hit her tongue and taste buds with all the force and grace of a nuclear bomb. Whimpering piteously, she proceeded to suck her fingers clean, moaning around them in a manner than would have put a porn star to shame.

Releasing her now clean fingers from her mouth with a wet pop, she returned them between her legs, stroking herself through the thin cotton material of her soaked panties.

"Fuck," she husked out, her voice low and throaty with want. Her hips pushed forward, needing the contact of her stroking fingers more firmly against her aroused flesh. She slipped her fingers back inside her underwear, gathering the wetness that pooled onto her fingers and lubricating them. Then she pushed a finger inside of her, groaning at how tight, how wet, how ready she was. Her inner walls were greedy, pulling the intruding finger deeper within her and Tara released a mewl of such pleasure that she almost came right there and then.

Suddenly and quite without warning, Tara found herself on her back. Receipts and other miscellaneous pieces of paper found themselves ejected into the air, the force of the vampire's back hitting the flat of the desk causing them to defy gravity. They lay suspended for fractions of a second in the air before they floated back down to earth, drifting to the floor around Tara like misshapen snowflakes as gravity exerted its dominance over them once more.

But Tara didn't care for the mess, didn't care that the neat stacks of receipts now lay in a scattered, haphazard mess around her and the floor. What she did care about was the fact that she was flat on her back, shirt open and Pam was between her legs, tugging furiously, anxiously and desperately at her jeans.

The blonde yanked them off with a flourish, pausing only to knock Tara's Chucks off her feet. Pam discarded her mate's jeans over her shoulder, uncaring of just where it fell. "You fuckin' tease," were the only words the blonde hissed out before she dived in, latching her mouth onto Tara's wet cunt.

"Ohhh!"

Tara's moan was unashamed as it jangled with carnality. Her head hit the solid surface of the desk with an audible thump but already the vampire was too far gone to notice the slight pain. Her hips undulated, pushing forward to seek more contact with Pam's insistent and relentless lips and tongue. Fangs clicked down as Pam ran the flat of her tongue down the length of her cunt, nose nudging at the erect bundle of nerves. The blonde suckled at the swollen flesh, moaning into Tara's wetness at the ambrosial taste of her mate.

Tara swore as she felt Pam distend her fangs, dragging the sharp tips over her feminine folds before moving to allow them to worry the inside of her thigh. Teasing fingers replaced Pam's mouth, pale, long, elegant fingers sifting through aroused flesh and abundant wetness, teasing, taunting, promising. The dark-skinned vampire trembled in anticipation, knowing just what Pam was going to do next.

When Pam kissed the ebony skin above her femoral artery, Tara whimpered. It was a whimper that coalesced into an ear-splitting scream of unadulterated pleasure as the blonde sank her fangs into her thigh the same time she thrust two fingers knuckle deep inside of Tara.

"FUCK! Oh! Fuck!" Tara was lost asunder in a sea of hazy desire. It clouded her mind, robbed her of all reason and logic. All that mattered, all that Tara cared about was the feeling Pam was evoking between her legs.

Pam hummed around ebony flesh as Tara's blood starburst onto her tongue, twin streams of crimson that were rapturous to the blonde's senses. She allowed the life-giving liquid to trickle down her throat even as her tongue probed and licked at the stain of scarlet that marred her mate's dark flesh. Drinking her progeny's blood was euphoric, the taste of it unparalleled. She drank from fangbangers for nourishment but she drank from Tara for pleasure.

And now, with her mate's blood flowing all too willingly into her mouth, the primal beast that was housed inside of Pam purred with satisfaction. Tara tasted like hers. She was hers. When Pam fed off of Tara, the primitive part of the blonde vampire could and would only make sense of one thing:

Mine.

Tara panted, groaning with disappointment as Pam extracted her fangs. She felt the loss keenly even as the blonde's long fingers continued its steady pumping in and out of her cunt. When she felt a velvet tongue bathing the twin puncture wounds with aching tenderness, Tara struggled onto the elbows, wanting to see Pam with her own eyes of pitch.

Eyes of azure blue collided with fathomless pools of inky midnight as Pam closed the wounds on Tara's thigh, licked the area clean of blood then returned her attention to her mate's dripping, aching sex. Pam's smile was coy, the expression on her face anything but innocent as she smirked up at Tara from between the fledging vampire's legs.

Then she inserted another finger, curled them deep inside of Tara and bent her head to take a throbbing clit between her teeth.

Tara screamed. She screamed and thrashed and screamed some more as Pam used her fingers, lips, fangs and tongue to work her body into an uncontrollable frenzy. Ecstasy was all she knew and lust was the driving force behind her wildly bucking body as Pam pushed the boundaries between pleasure and pain, testing Tara's endurance, challenging the threshold of her pleasure intake.

Tara thought she would pass out there and then when Pam snaked a long, pale arm up her torso. It came to a deliberate stop by her left breast and the blonde gave no warning as she closed a possessive hand over the plump flesh, squeezing territorially. The rough manhandling of Tara's breast only served to work her already over-sensitized body even more and she mewled and groaned and panted as Pam began kneading, pulling and caressing her breast with eager and knowledgeable fingers.

"No! Don't stop!" Tara pleaded, almost sobbing as Pam extracted the fingers she had buried inside of Tara mere moments ago.

"Shh…" Pam soothed, moving the hand she had on Tara's breast to the right one. Resuming her erotic massage on the right breast, Pam flicked her tongue over Tara's clit. Moving it down, she used the tip to circle Tara's opening, teasing her mate with the promise of penetration before moving to lick droplets of arousal from the swollen flesh that made up Tara's sex.

Tara's eyes rolled to the back of her head, her elbows failing to hold up her weight as Pam began pushing her tongue inside of her. Tara fell back onto the desk, her back hitting the solid surface with such force that had she needed to breath, the act would have knocked all the air from her lungs. Breathy moans escaped past the dark-skinned vampire's lips as Pam began tongue fucking her, her tongue a velvet tool that brushed up against inner walls that were drenched with desire with carnal intent.

"Pamela…Pam…oh FUUUUCK!" Tara cried out as Pam retracted her tongue, moved her mouth up only to clamp down on her clit even as she drove three fingers back into Tara. The blonde's fingers set a punishing pace, urging Tara's hips to follow a tempo and rhythm that it picked up almost instinctively.

The hand Pam had on Tara's breast began snaking down, cunning sensuality in every deliberate caress. It splayed teasing, sinful fingers over the expanse of her mate's stomach, tracing each prominent abdominal muscle, committing each ebb and flow to memory.

Tara could feel her orgasm approach. It was like a prowling predator, circling, stalking and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She could feel its presence grow stronger, more potent with every thrust of Pam's fingers, every swipe of that devilish tongue. The slab of heat, of delicious warmth that had steadily been building in the pits of her stomach had expanded to encompass every part of her being, resulting in frazzled nerves and muscles that were already locking together in anticipation of a lustful storm.

Pam was relentless, bordering on brutal as she drove those fingers in and out of her mate. The wet, silken sheath of Tara's sex was singing to her every possessive tendency, Tara's inner walls goading Pam on as it bore down on those thrusting fingers with pulsating beats. The blonde changed the angle of her wrist, twisting the three fingers she had inside of Tara. She curled them, brushing the pads of her fingers against wet, spongy tissue and eliciting an unabashed howl from Tara.

"Come for me," Pam coaxed, her voice raw from the force of her passion, her blue eyes iridescent with lust. She looked up, observed the way Tara wriggled and squirmed and bucked on the desk, her shirt hanging off her toned body, abdominal muscles clenching and flowing underneath ebony skin that glowed and moved like black gold.

"Come," Pam instructed hoarsely, pushing into Tara with her fingers as far as they would go.

And Tara came. Aided by the raw desire she could hear clearly in Pam's husky voice, her body shattered under her mate's loving, passionate and demanding administrations. She broke, her orgasm speeding into her and throughout her body like a runaway train. A kaleidoscope of color exploded behind eyes that were screwed shut, the pressure of her desire rendering her lids closed. A primal scream, born from the depths of her pleasure, burst forth between parted lips, staining the air above her and echoing off the walls of the office.

Her body convulsed almost violently on that desk, legs quivering hopelessly on either side of Pam. Her hands gripped the sides of the desk, fingers clenching at the furniture so hard that it left indentations and half-moon marks.

When Pam bit down gently on her clit and continued thrusting her fingers in and out of Tara, the dark-skinned vampire was helpless against the second orgasm that tore through her body like a vengeful hurricane. It splintered her thoughts, made her eyes roll to the back of her head and the only coherent word that came out of her mouth was her maker's name.

Pam shuddered as her own orgasm ripped through her, the combination of watching Tara come undone and feeling Tara's orgasm as if it were her own through the bond more than enough for her body to join its mate in rapture. She moaned into wet flesh, fingers never stopping their quest to milk out Tara's orgasm even as her own climax threatened to steal her basic motor functions.

The blonde was the first to recover but she had to balance herself on shaky legs at the end of the desk and blink away the fandango of stars that appeared before her eyes. She slowed the fingers she had buried knuckle deep inside of Tara, allowing the still pulsating inner walls to clench at them, holding them hostage inside this haven of heat, wetness and silk. Resting her chin on Tara's still quivering thigh, Pam was content to simply watch her mate struggle through the aftermath of her climax. Blue eyes were marred with satisfaction and more than a little exhaustion as dawn began its descent upon the bar but Pam was no less than diligently observant as she took note of the way Tara fought to catch needless breaths, her fingers still gripping at the sides of the desk with notable desperation.

Her mate's eyes were closed but the expression on Tara's face was blissful, bordering on serene. A small smile played about her lips and Pam couldn't help but mirror it as she regarded her progeny with a fond smile. When the tremors had more or less desisted with Tara's half-clad body, Pam slowly extracted her damp fingers from inside of Tara, taking a few seconds to clean them of her mate's arousal with exaggerated flicks of her tongue.

Done, she hoisted herself up onto the desk, crawling slowly up Tara's body before coming to a stop and lying half on top of her. An ivory hued hand reached out to brush errant strands of thick sable hair away from Tara's forehead and she felt a rush of pride and fierce affection stab through her as Tara's smile widened and she impulsively leaned into her maker's touch.

"You are beautiful," Pam breathed out, reverence a loud aria in her tone. She ran the back of her hand down Tara's smooth cheek, marveling at the softness she found.

Tara opened eyes that were shining with love and devotion. She smiled up at Pam, reached out to tuck a lock of flaxen hair behind her maker's ear then curled her hand around the back of Pam's neck. She brought their lips together, both maker and progeny sighing as their lips met.

"Time for bed," Pam murmured against Tara's lips. She nipped playfully at the pillow-y flesh, smoothed the slight sting over with flick of her tongue then pulled back only to rest her palm against Tara's cheek. "Dawn is upon us."

Tara nodded, too spent and drowsy to even attempt to argue with Pam. Suppressing a yawn, she hooked her arms around Pam's neck and closed her eyes. No words were exchanged as Pam slipped off the side of the desk, gathered Tara preciously into her arms then walked them down into the basement.

FIN