Deadly Beautiful - Vivian Vargas (me reader txt) 📗
- Author: Vivian Vargas
Book online «Deadly Beautiful - Vivian Vargas (me reader txt) 📗». Author Vivian Vargas
it out of my reach.
“Morgan…” the voice was recognizable, but so light that it barely reached my ears. Then I began to become aware of others things. I was lying on something soft but slightly scratchy, I could feel it under my skin. Besides the blood, I could smell something richly pungent, like the scent over freshly turned earth. And I also caught of whiff of something awful… ugh, fox urine. And a familiar, unique scent. Something that smelled of a vibrant musk only a good, strong, worthwhile male can give off. It smelled rich and superb, like the beautiful full moon would if I knew how it smelled like. Like honeydew melon or cucumbers, like healthy soil freshly turned. Like the coppery, salty scent of blood.
The thought of blood had my throat raging in thirst again.
I opened my eyes, but I hadn’t actually realized that they were closed until it occurred to me that I couldn’t see anything. When I opened them, it was as though I were a blind person seeing things for the first time. Everything looked sharper, clearer, more at hand than it seemed to me before.
And I saw Liam’s striking face. His red eyes, his perfect mouth and nose, his strong brow and thick jaw. He smiled, and a flash of light dazzled off his flawlessly white teeth, making me blink.
“Liam!” I breathed, immediately reaching for him, clutching him to me. I forgot about blood for a moment, and all I could think of was him, my love. I loved him since I was a little girl, I understood now. I did not care for what he was. I was like him now. Now, we can be the same together. We can love as one, no holds barred. Everyone believe me to be dead, prompting us the perfect excuse to be together.
“Here, love, I have something for you.” He said then. My mind screamed blood, and surely enough, he pulled out a large bronze goblet from behind him. My now sensitive ears can hear the sloshing of the liquid inside of it, and I could almost see the delicious aroma of it wafting from the rim of the goblet. My thirst flared in my throat, and I immediately reached for it. He dangled it out of my reach, holding his hand in front of me to stop me.
“Easy now. Your first time should be drank slowly. You should savor your first drink of blood, remember the taste, the texture, the substance of our lives.” He said. I gulped and nodded, pacing myself slowly, willing myself not to lunge like an animal. Liam was teasing me, and I felt like not the mood to be teased. Every time he made the notion to give me the goblet, I would reach for it and he would pull it back, his eyes telling me to be undemanding. But how can I when he is infuriating me? I growled, the feral sound collecting in my chest and rising through my lips. It was more than animal-like, it was dominant and powerful. I was shocked to hear it come from my own mouth, but I could not help but feel amazed. I was powerful. Elegant. I felt inexorable.
“Growling at me?” Liam quipped playfully his eyebrow raising into his hairline. But he snapped his fangs and growled back, grinning.
“Liam, please!” I begged, my hands outstretched. They were shaking. He was now concerned, his playfulness vanishing in an instant.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… well, here.” He gave me the goblet, and I fervently snatched it.
I was mindful of what Liam told me, so I brought it to my lips slowly. There was so much blood inside of it that if I were still human it would have made me queasy, but the smell was delicious. It actually made my mouth water. When I brought it to my lips, why -there was no other way I can describe the wonderful taste of it. It was just rightfully amazing. It was wholesome. It cooled my hot thirst. This was a God’s ambrosia. This was everything I was meant to live for.
I finished the blood, slightly disappointed that it finished. But I was happy. I was no longer thirsty. I put the goblet aside and crawled into Liam’s arms.
“Oh Liam,” I murmured against his sweet smelling body, “I am finally a vampire! I can feel it in my bones. We are together!”
He pulled me back, a handsome smirk of wonderful delight beautifying his features. He put his hands on my face –they were not cold, so I assumed that we were now the same temperature and thus could not tell the difference- and brought my mouth to his in a feverish kiss. I eagerly kissed him, but something was different. It felt a little off somehow. My mouth felt too full.
I leaned back, gleaming my tongue over my teeth, and was only slightly surprised to find that I had fangs. They were very sharp.
“I am going to have to get used to kissing you with fangs.” I commented, grinning sheepishly. But that did not faze them. He leaned his head towards me slowly, his eyes completely intent.
“We have eternity.” He proclaimed, his voice low and guttural. “I love you, Morgan Helen Gogh.”
I nearly gasped as he said that. Did that mean that he was proposing to me? Why, if I were still human my heart would have been beating so ferociously, but that did not still stop that butterfly feeling! I brought my hand to my breast, and I felt tears from my eyes.
“Liam…”
“Marry me.” He said simply, cutting me off. He set warm kisses around my throat and collarbone, tilting my hand back, sending deep shivers of arousal down to my very core. “Marry please, my love. I love you, I always did.”
“Yes.” I said. I did not say anything else. I only agreed. It was meant to be, after all.
**************************
Whitney.
I opened my eyes to a flash of blinding white light. I shut them immediately, but I can still feel that horrible light bleed through my eyelids. I tried to raise my arms, but they were still shackled down. I also noticed that my left hand was wrapped in a cast and did not hurt as much, but it was extremely itchy. I tried to move just a little but the straps were constricting my chest. It was impossible to move in this thing. I whimpered –my throat was so dry. And my stomach was rumbling with hunger.
I also needed to take a shit.
I heard voices outside that door, whispering. It’s funny how you are in a room with total silence that your hearing becomes so acute. I can hear everything. I can hear the crackling of the building settling. I can hear the pipes inside the walls running water. I can hear a slight drone of the working camera that is keeping watch of me. Nosy fuckers, I want to scream. I hate you.
I breathed heavily through my nose. The need for heroin has settled into a loud hum all over my body, vibrating my very core. It was harder to contain strapped up like this. I felt as though some inner fiend was tied up and in protest ripping and snarling and screaming, but unable to move. I felt like ripping and snarling and screaming, but I was frozen in the realization that it was no use to fight against steel shackles and tough leather straps. Tears squeezed through my eyes, running down my cheeks. It was unbearable to have a streak of moisture on my face that I could not wipe off. It began to itch as it dried up slowly.
I could not help but to remember that dream, the one where my mother called me a slut and George said I was easy… and how Sasha said that I hurt everyone who crossed my path. I thought of the day when Sasha came to see me and then cried tears on my arm, her eyes lightening up a bright silver like she was putting a spell on me. I did not know what it was, but did that spell resulted in this, me being strapped down a gurney like some fucking animal, agonizingly feeling every second ticking by? Was this my punishment, was this what I deserved for hurting her?
How did I hurt her? She’s not here is she, addicted with no substance and worn out and trapped, clenching her ass cheeks so she wont shit on herself? Was she tricked into prostitution and abused… and…where the fuck is she with her magic and her unnatural spells and freaky eyes when she should be getting me the fuck out of here? She was doing nothing but feeling sorry for me, like very other damn person in this place. It’s a dog-eat-dog world and I was getting eaten. Alive.
*****
I was staring at the florescent lights that flickered on and off, listening to the slight purr of them, watching the shadows that wavered whenever the lights would fail to light the room for long periods of time. I was just thinking on how shadows were pretty lonely company when suddenly the door opened. The medical doctor came in. I hadn’t noticed how he really looked like until now. He was one of those handsome middle-aged dudes with salt and pepper hair and a gracefully aging face. His nice brown eyes looked sad when he came in and closely observed me.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” he bent over my face to whisper to me. He was so close that I smelled his Tic-Tac breath. For some reason it made my stomach churn.
“Yes.” I whispered back. I wondered how my breath smelled like to him. “I need to take a shit anyway.”
I could tell he was trying very hard not to laugh. The corner of his lips kept twitching up, and eventually he had to look away from me. “Alright, come in now.” He barked at the closed door. The same security guards that were handling me last night, the dude with the walrus mustache and the one that I kicked in the face came sauntering in, wary looks on their faces. What danger was I anyway? Were they afraid that I was going to poop all over them, considering that I have been in this room for so long without a bathroom break? Besides, I was exhausted. I did not eat or drink anything for twenty-four hours straight and the bed I was strapped to was so uncomfortable that I did not sleep well. I simply had no energy to fight back.
I flinched as the two security guards came closer, even if they were coming slowly. I could not help but remember them man-handling me like I was some sort of rabid dog. Well, maybe I was acting like a rabid dog. Scratch that, I totally was acting like a bloody rabid dog.
“Hey mate,” I cheerfully said to the man I kicked in the face, who was wearing a brace on his nose, “How is your face feeling?”
He scowled. I had the urge to tell him that it takes more muscles in your face to frown than to smile, but I thought better of it. They undid all the leather straps and steel cuffs that bound me to the bed. It felt so good to suddenly have regained control of my limbs that it sent a
“Morgan…” the voice was recognizable, but so light that it barely reached my ears. Then I began to become aware of others things. I was lying on something soft but slightly scratchy, I could feel it under my skin. Besides the blood, I could smell something richly pungent, like the scent over freshly turned earth. And I also caught of whiff of something awful… ugh, fox urine. And a familiar, unique scent. Something that smelled of a vibrant musk only a good, strong, worthwhile male can give off. It smelled rich and superb, like the beautiful full moon would if I knew how it smelled like. Like honeydew melon or cucumbers, like healthy soil freshly turned. Like the coppery, salty scent of blood.
The thought of blood had my throat raging in thirst again.
I opened my eyes, but I hadn’t actually realized that they were closed until it occurred to me that I couldn’t see anything. When I opened them, it was as though I were a blind person seeing things for the first time. Everything looked sharper, clearer, more at hand than it seemed to me before.
And I saw Liam’s striking face. His red eyes, his perfect mouth and nose, his strong brow and thick jaw. He smiled, and a flash of light dazzled off his flawlessly white teeth, making me blink.
“Liam!” I breathed, immediately reaching for him, clutching him to me. I forgot about blood for a moment, and all I could think of was him, my love. I loved him since I was a little girl, I understood now. I did not care for what he was. I was like him now. Now, we can be the same together. We can love as one, no holds barred. Everyone believe me to be dead, prompting us the perfect excuse to be together.
“Here, love, I have something for you.” He said then. My mind screamed blood, and surely enough, he pulled out a large bronze goblet from behind him. My now sensitive ears can hear the sloshing of the liquid inside of it, and I could almost see the delicious aroma of it wafting from the rim of the goblet. My thirst flared in my throat, and I immediately reached for it. He dangled it out of my reach, holding his hand in front of me to stop me.
“Easy now. Your first time should be drank slowly. You should savor your first drink of blood, remember the taste, the texture, the substance of our lives.” He said. I gulped and nodded, pacing myself slowly, willing myself not to lunge like an animal. Liam was teasing me, and I felt like not the mood to be teased. Every time he made the notion to give me the goblet, I would reach for it and he would pull it back, his eyes telling me to be undemanding. But how can I when he is infuriating me? I growled, the feral sound collecting in my chest and rising through my lips. It was more than animal-like, it was dominant and powerful. I was shocked to hear it come from my own mouth, but I could not help but feel amazed. I was powerful. Elegant. I felt inexorable.
“Growling at me?” Liam quipped playfully his eyebrow raising into his hairline. But he snapped his fangs and growled back, grinning.
“Liam, please!” I begged, my hands outstretched. They were shaking. He was now concerned, his playfulness vanishing in an instant.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… well, here.” He gave me the goblet, and I fervently snatched it.
I was mindful of what Liam told me, so I brought it to my lips slowly. There was so much blood inside of it that if I were still human it would have made me queasy, but the smell was delicious. It actually made my mouth water. When I brought it to my lips, why -there was no other way I can describe the wonderful taste of it. It was just rightfully amazing. It was wholesome. It cooled my hot thirst. This was a God’s ambrosia. This was everything I was meant to live for.
I finished the blood, slightly disappointed that it finished. But I was happy. I was no longer thirsty. I put the goblet aside and crawled into Liam’s arms.
“Oh Liam,” I murmured against his sweet smelling body, “I am finally a vampire! I can feel it in my bones. We are together!”
He pulled me back, a handsome smirk of wonderful delight beautifying his features. He put his hands on my face –they were not cold, so I assumed that we were now the same temperature and thus could not tell the difference- and brought my mouth to his in a feverish kiss. I eagerly kissed him, but something was different. It felt a little off somehow. My mouth felt too full.
I leaned back, gleaming my tongue over my teeth, and was only slightly surprised to find that I had fangs. They were very sharp.
“I am going to have to get used to kissing you with fangs.” I commented, grinning sheepishly. But that did not faze them. He leaned his head towards me slowly, his eyes completely intent.
“We have eternity.” He proclaimed, his voice low and guttural. “I love you, Morgan Helen Gogh.”
I nearly gasped as he said that. Did that mean that he was proposing to me? Why, if I were still human my heart would have been beating so ferociously, but that did not still stop that butterfly feeling! I brought my hand to my breast, and I felt tears from my eyes.
“Liam…”
“Marry me.” He said simply, cutting me off. He set warm kisses around my throat and collarbone, tilting my hand back, sending deep shivers of arousal down to my very core. “Marry please, my love. I love you, I always did.”
“Yes.” I said. I did not say anything else. I only agreed. It was meant to be, after all.
**************************
Whitney.
I opened my eyes to a flash of blinding white light. I shut them immediately, but I can still feel that horrible light bleed through my eyelids. I tried to raise my arms, but they were still shackled down. I also noticed that my left hand was wrapped in a cast and did not hurt as much, but it was extremely itchy. I tried to move just a little but the straps were constricting my chest. It was impossible to move in this thing. I whimpered –my throat was so dry. And my stomach was rumbling with hunger.
I also needed to take a shit.
I heard voices outside that door, whispering. It’s funny how you are in a room with total silence that your hearing becomes so acute. I can hear everything. I can hear the crackling of the building settling. I can hear the pipes inside the walls running water. I can hear a slight drone of the working camera that is keeping watch of me. Nosy fuckers, I want to scream. I hate you.
I breathed heavily through my nose. The need for heroin has settled into a loud hum all over my body, vibrating my very core. It was harder to contain strapped up like this. I felt as though some inner fiend was tied up and in protest ripping and snarling and screaming, but unable to move. I felt like ripping and snarling and screaming, but I was frozen in the realization that it was no use to fight against steel shackles and tough leather straps. Tears squeezed through my eyes, running down my cheeks. It was unbearable to have a streak of moisture on my face that I could not wipe off. It began to itch as it dried up slowly.
I could not help but to remember that dream, the one where my mother called me a slut and George said I was easy… and how Sasha said that I hurt everyone who crossed my path. I thought of the day when Sasha came to see me and then cried tears on my arm, her eyes lightening up a bright silver like she was putting a spell on me. I did not know what it was, but did that spell resulted in this, me being strapped down a gurney like some fucking animal, agonizingly feeling every second ticking by? Was this my punishment, was this what I deserved for hurting her?
How did I hurt her? She’s not here is she, addicted with no substance and worn out and trapped, clenching her ass cheeks so she wont shit on herself? Was she tricked into prostitution and abused… and…where the fuck is she with her magic and her unnatural spells and freaky eyes when she should be getting me the fuck out of here? She was doing nothing but feeling sorry for me, like very other damn person in this place. It’s a dog-eat-dog world and I was getting eaten. Alive.
*****
I was staring at the florescent lights that flickered on and off, listening to the slight purr of them, watching the shadows that wavered whenever the lights would fail to light the room for long periods of time. I was just thinking on how shadows were pretty lonely company when suddenly the door opened. The medical doctor came in. I hadn’t noticed how he really looked like until now. He was one of those handsome middle-aged dudes with salt and pepper hair and a gracefully aging face. His nice brown eyes looked sad when he came in and closely observed me.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” he bent over my face to whisper to me. He was so close that I smelled his Tic-Tac breath. For some reason it made my stomach churn.
“Yes.” I whispered back. I wondered how my breath smelled like to him. “I need to take a shit anyway.”
I could tell he was trying very hard not to laugh. The corner of his lips kept twitching up, and eventually he had to look away from me. “Alright, come in now.” He barked at the closed door. The same security guards that were handling me last night, the dude with the walrus mustache and the one that I kicked in the face came sauntering in, wary looks on their faces. What danger was I anyway? Were they afraid that I was going to poop all over them, considering that I have been in this room for so long without a bathroom break? Besides, I was exhausted. I did not eat or drink anything for twenty-four hours straight and the bed I was strapped to was so uncomfortable that I did not sleep well. I simply had no energy to fight back.
I flinched as the two security guards came closer, even if they were coming slowly. I could not help but remember them man-handling me like I was some sort of rabid dog. Well, maybe I was acting like a rabid dog. Scratch that, I totally was acting like a bloody rabid dog.
“Hey mate,” I cheerfully said to the man I kicked in the face, who was wearing a brace on his nose, “How is your face feeling?”
He scowled. I had the urge to tell him that it takes more muscles in your face to frown than to smile, but I thought better of it. They undid all the leather straps and steel cuffs that bound me to the bed. It felt so good to suddenly have regained control of my limbs that it sent a
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