Voodoo Queens of New Orleans

Hezekiah’s mouth met mine, and I responded with the same urgency. We kissed deeply, almost like we couldn’t get enough of each other. His hand moved from my neck up onto my head, keeping it still. My hands gripped the back of his neck as I pushed my tongue into his mouth. It was frantic, both of us eager to taste every inch of each other again.

Hezekiah then pushed me onto the bed and positioned himself in front of me on his knees, staring at me and adjusting his eyes down my naked flesh. My nipples were hard, legs quivering for what was coming next. He grabbed my foot, lifted it so the sole rested on his solid chest, spreading my thighs in the process. He caressed my leg gently before he began to trail kisses, staring at my ankle, and almost making it to my calf until I nudged him. He stopped, looked at me with impatient eyes, then looked down at my toes on his chest playing with the fabric of his shirt. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the collar of his shirt, lifting it over his head until it was off and on the floor. I stared at his half-naked body, writhing in sexual frustration at just how perfect it was; the muscles on his stomach and the definition of his chest, shoulders and arms. I felt like I was pressing my foot against stone when it touched his chest again. I wanted my fingers on his stomach; I wanted my hands on the muscled plains of his arms.

He met my skin with his lips again, making his way up my legs agonizingly slow. I laid back and whimpered, my hands squeezing the covers between my fingers as I bit my lip. He was so close to the spot between my legs where I wanted him the most; the spot that he saw was already wet for him. But when his lips began to kiss my inner thigh, he slowed down to a near stop. I felt him inhale the flesh of my thigh and shuddered and the surprising action. He groaned lowly as he exhaled, his hand massaging my outer thigh as he kissed the same spot. I remembered then: he was hungry. When was the last time he had fed?

“Do it,” I blurted out. He looked up at me, the desperation on his face proof enough. But he shook his head at me.

“No. I can’t.”

“You know I can take it - ”

“I can’t keep doing that to you.”

“I want you to do it, Hezekiah,” I said to him. “I know you want to.”

I had never been fed on from my inner thigh. I knew it was a desirable spot for a vampire to feed (after the neck, of course) but I was sure that it only occurred in situations similar to the one that Hezekiah and I were in right now. I didn’t know how much it would hurt; that skin was very sensitive. But I encouraged him to proceed.

Hezekiah’s eyes went completely black after I practically forced him to feed on me; I knew it was coming. He bared his fangs and sunk them into my soft, warm flesh. I cried out sharply before covering my mouth with my hand. My eyes squeezed shut at the first wave of sharp, excruciating pain. He held my leg still as he replenished his body with my blood, sucking hard and selfishly. Tears wanted to escape my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them, although this feeding hurt considerably more than any other I had gone through. My leg was overcome with a feeling of numbness that carried to my hips.

Tell him to stop, I thought to myself, but I didn’t want him to until he was satisfied. I wouldn’t tap out, at least not yet. And luckily, I didn’t have to. Eventually, I felt his fangs slowly pull out of my thigh. I looked up, seeing my blood coating Hezekiah’s mouth. He sighed out, his eyes closed as he licked his mouth and savored every drop. When his eyes opened, the blackness was slowly receding back into his pupils, and revealed were the bright, amber-colored eyes I had grown accustomed to. I felt his tongue again, licking over the puncture marks he had left on me. And suddenly, the pain had stopped.

“Sorry,” he said; he knew how painful it was. But it was a pain that I was willing to go through again for him.

“Don’t apologize,” I said, and slowly, I began to smirk. “Just keep doing what you were doing.”

His laugh was from deep within his chest. His lips moved up onto my hips, gradually touching my mound, making me gasp. Then, I felt them on my stomach, his hands on my waist, caressing slowly. His hands were big and strong, pressed against me and moving in sensual motions. I felt all the features of his face on my belly, his nose inhaling again as if he was addicted to my scent. They moved up to my breasts, his hands, then finally, we were face to face, mouth to mouth again. My hands slid up his arms and onto his shoulders. I was on my way to his back - I remember this vividly. I had inched my fingers onto his back, but suddenly, Hezekiah grabbed both my hands and pinned them at my sides. I was taken back promptly, looking at him almost regretfully. He didn’t like to be touched on his back, and I didn’t know why. And I knew that if I asked, he wouldn’t tell me. So I just stared at him, and he stared at me as if I was being sneaky and mischevious. His hands then moved from my wrists onto my hips, pulling me forward as he propped himself on his knees again. I sat up, taking this opportunity to feel a part of his body that I was allowed to feel - his stomach. My hand graced his abdomen, fingers rippling like waves over his muscles. His body was godly, and he knew this. My hand, only slightly lighter in color than his skin, contrasted beautifully with the dark, russet color of his stomach and the rest of his body. His skin was cold, but I was used to it by then.

Looking up at him, I began to unbutton his trousers. I grew excited when I started unfastening all the buttons, staring at him grin ever so slightly as I moved on to the next one, and the next one, revealing more and more of his skin underneath until I saw his erection and was welcomed to the sight of his cock in front of me. He slipped his trousers off himself, ordering me to lay down again. I was practically shaking with anticipation; he was completely naked, confident in his bare state and his physique. His hands came back to my hips, lifting them up slightly and gently pushing my knees apart. Adjusting his posture on his knees, he stared deep into my eyes as he slid his dick inside me. I gasped as I felt him entering me, slowly on purpose so I could feel everything I was allowed to. He let out a groan that was followed by a small chuckle.

“How much can you handle this time?” he whispered jokingly.

“Shut the fuck up,” I whispered back, making him laugh even harder. He thrust again, making sure his rhythm was deep and slow. His hands massaged my hips as he stroked his cock gently inside me. I panted as quietly as I could, my hand pressing into the headboard. He kept looking at me as he rotated his hips, and him staring into my eyes as he thrust made it hard for me not to come right then and there. His hands pulled my hips deeper into him, making me cry out in pleasure. He was hitting the spot just right, and I had to coach myself not to come yet.

Please don’t come, please don’t come, you just fucking started, don’t you dare climax!

Suddenly, I felt Hezekiah pull out of me. “Get on your knees,” he ordered, and without another second of delay, I rolled over onto my chest and propped myself up on my hands and knees. I arched my back, pushing my ass into him; I already knew what to do. He growled when I did this.

“That’s it, babygirl,” he commended before entering me again. In this position, Hezekiah penetrated me in a completely different angle, adding more to his own pleasure. His movements were a lot faster this time; he was lost in me, his hands firm on my hips as he fucked me. I tried my damndest not to cry out; there were people downstairs. Hezekiah grunted lowly, and suddenly, I felt a sharp pain on my ass. The pain came again as Hezekiah slapped my ass even harder. I moaned loudly, begging him to do it again. I knew I was going to come, and the words seemed to slip out of my mouth after he spanked me again.

“I’m close,” I whimpered. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

And when he heard these words, he wrapped his hand around my neck and pulled me upright so my back was against his chest. His fingers tightened around my neck as he slowed and deepened his stroke, his hips pushing into my ass. I knew it was only a matter of seconds. I could feel myself pulsating between my legs, and my heart was beating nearly out of my chest. I gasped out his name while he fondled my breasts and kissed my neck. And as I finally began to climax, I heard a loud, piercing scream that was definitely not from Hezekiah.

Fuck.

Hezekiah quickly pulled out of me and scrambled when he heard the sound of Aza’s voice. And when I saw her standing in the doorway with her hand over her mouth, I screamed, too - so startled that I rolled off the bed and landed on the floor on my side.

“Oh God, Oh Lord!” Aza cried, her hand now covering her eyes.

“Shit!” Hezekiah cursed, and in seconds, Hezekiah had his clothes on and was gone out of the window. Just like that, as if I wasn’t butt naked on the floor.

“D-dinner’s ready!” Aza called out shakily, and before I could say anything in my defense, the door was slammed shut. I couldn’t move. I laid on the floor for a moment in complete shock and embarrassment. And when I finally decided to get up, I heard familiar voices.

“Cam, what’s wrong?!” Ben shouted from the other side of the door.

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong! Go on, go downstairs.”

“What happened?” Kizzy said

“Nothing! GO DOWNSTAIRS!”

I hurriedly put on my clothes, adjusted my glasses and tried my best to make the bed look somewhat presentable, but I knew that the sheets would definitely need to be washed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whispered frantically, and in my desperate attempt to try to make the scene the opposite of what it was, I realize that something was missing. I froze, pillow in my hand mid air, staring at the floor by the open window, then looking back at the vanity, then the desk, where only the black gold-trimmed envelope was. My nails sunk into the pillow in my hand when I realized that the letter was gone.

The letter that Russell Van Doren wrote me was gone.

I felt like my whole body was slowly turning the color red. I threw the pillow against the headboard and screamed into my hand. That mother fucker. That sneaky mother fucker. I vowed I wouldn’t let this happen to me again after he stole Marie Laveau’s letter opener, but now I let him leave with that letter. Part of me knew that him taking the letter was just a split second decision he made when we were caught.

But the impractical side of me came to the conclusion that Hezekiah had fucked me to distract me from the letter.

I could not put into words just how livid I was. And on top of knowing I had to come downstairs and look Aza in the eyes after she had caught me fucking her great-great-great-great Grandfather, now Hezekiah had gained the upper hand over me once again.

Aza has seen you two have sex before, I thought to myself. But that time was different. That time, Aza knew that ‘endeavor’ was to please Erzulie to gain her favor; it was purely business. But this time, Aza knew that Hezekiah and I were fucking around like fools in the midst of the territorial chaos. I was mortified. I was furious.

I turned the doorknob to leave, and as I forced myself to leave what Hezekiah and I did in that bedroom behind, no matter how damn good it felt, I was even more determined to show him - show everyone - that I wasn’t someone to push around and manipulate, vampire or mortal.

Once Russell sent me that gown, I was going to try it on to make sure it fit. And then, I was going to wear that damn gown to the dinner party, where I would see Hezekiah by Abraham’s side and hope he’d notice me.

**