California Zephyr Ch. 01

"You are wonderful." His words broke the curious stillness between them and now he wriggled about to hold the dark maned youth in his arms more passionately, kissing his neck and his slim shoulders as they sprawled on the bed. His hands were warmer, and irresistibly powerful, as they spread Marc's thighs so that he could writhe between them sinuously, reminding his lover that he was still hard and needy.

A shadow crossed the young man's face as he looked up into the singer's unblinking, viridescent eyes; the pupils huge and black with desire. Rayne's lips parted in a hungry smile, drawn back from his neat white teeth and in that moment Marc saw something that he later tried to believe was his imagination and the vodka combining to bewilder him. In that instant, he thought he saw Rayne's upper dog teeth extend like canine fangs until they pricked his bottom lip and drew dark beads of blood there.

"....magnificent...." the Vampire breathed softly, bending his head to bury his nose in Marc's fine, dark hair, kissing his ear and his temple, feeling the lad resist as he probed firmly, drawing the young man's knees higher. "I want you so much. All of you... totally...."

Beneath him, Marc exhaled a tremulous breath and struggled harder. "Please..." he whispered nervously. "You can't.... not.. not like this...."

"Sshhhhh," Rayne responded almost inaudibly. "It'll be all right. I swear to you. I can't hurt you, sweetheart."

The mortal gazed up at him imploringly. "How many guys have you been with like this?" he demanded in a choked voice.

Rayne smiled, a heartbreakingly sweet expression, or it would have been if not for those incredible fanged dog-teeth.

"Hundreds..." he admitted ruefully. "I lost count a long time ago, sweetheart. But it doesn't matter any more. You see... I'm outside the rules of the game, darlin'. I'm perfectly safe."

"How can you say that?" Marc whimpered helplessly, torn between fear and longing, conscious of the tear which escaped the corner of his eye and trickled back into his hair.

Rayne bent his head and lapped at the saline warmth tenderly. "Sweetheart," he breathed reverentially. "I can't be infected... because I'm dead. A virus needs living flesh and blood to reproduce... It simply couldn't survive in my system."

Beneath him the boy's darker eyes widened perceptibly and he began to struggle more desperately.

"You're insane!"

"No." Rayne's fingers tightened on his slim thighs and he sank down slowly, pinning Marc under him with the force of his own deceptively slight frame. "I'm more sane than you can know. But I'm not alive in the sense that you understand it. I can't be easily hurt or destroyed. And I have to feed regularly in order to maintain my own immunity." His lips found the boy's neck, where the jugular vein ran down from the brain to the heart, suffused with hot, mortal blood, and Rayne kissed him there hungrily, then let his lower jaw slacken and drop so that he was able to bite deep into flesh and sinew.

Marc cried out in shock and growing terror, his body quivering like a tensioned rope under the Vampire's hands. He had almost stopped struggling, paralysed by his fear. Now Rayne tried to be gentle with him. The boy had already shown him such tenderness that he rebuked himself for treating Marc this way and fed from him with a careful delicacy, lapping at the blood which spurted from his ruptured vein, even as his saliva glands emitted the compound which would heal the punctures to the boy's mortal flesh before he could bleed to death. Once his hunger had been partially slaked, he realised that his companion had fainted and curled himself around the young man, holding him protectively for a while. Then - when he did not revive right away - drawing his knees higher and spitting into his palm to lube his still-erect penis. Slowly and rhythmically, now, he eased the head of his cock into his mate's unresisting arsehole until he was fully inside Marc and able to pulse smoothly, barely moving more than half an inch in and out of him until he felt the youth begin to stir in his embrace.

Marc groaned softly, conscious of the urgent thrusting of Rayne's sex inside him as he came slowly to his senses. He was aware that they shouldn't be doing this, but at the same time the feel of the other man's cock within him was intensely arousing and he did not entirely want Rayne to stop fucking him. He was stiffening again as the singer eased under him, on his knees, pressing upward ever harder into his arse. The singer sighed with pleasure as Marc lifted his legs and hooked his knees over Rayne's shoulders riding him willingly; pressing himself down onto the Englishman's magnificent prick. The swaying rhythm of the train enhanced the urgency of their lovemaking, rolling them from side to side as Rayne's strong fingers gripped his hipbones and pulled Marc down harder and faster onto his pulsing cock, moaning with desire as he fucked the boy hungrily.

Through the dizzying pleasure of sex, Marc recalled fragments of memory - blood and pain and extended fangs. He felt an instant of shock, then amazement. Rayne was a Vampire. He had genuine fangs... Rayne Wylde had bitten his neck and sucked his blood and now they were fucking hard like two parts of the same well-oiled machine. It was the most erotic and intense sexual experience of his lifetime. He would not normally have consented to something this primal, but it felt wonderful. Marc was hard again, and loving every moment.

When Rayne pulled out of him, he found himself sobbing uncontrollably, pleading for it not to stop yet. The Vampire enfolded him in strong arms and kissed him passionately for a little while until his hysteria calmed, then turned him firmly onto his belly and mounted him vigorously from behind. Before long, Marc was crying out at every stab of his lover's cock, pushing himself back to meet the next thrust, delirious with pleasure.

After a while, Rayne eased out of him again and they kissed some more, then the singer sank down on the bed, his silky hair a sable halo on the pillowcase as he spread his own legs and drew his lover down between them, guiding Marc's throbbing sex into his arsehole, already slippery wet with saliva and cum. He wrapped his arms and legs tightly around the young man as Marc bucked savagely between his thighs, tiny, fragile-sounding whimpers of longing forced from his throat by each thrust of his cock. The mortal boy came inside him with a howl of animal delight; succumbing to a mind-numbing satisfaction so intense that it scoured his brain and left him dazed and shaking.

Before he was fully recovered, Rayne was back on top of him, back inside him, screwing him again.

Omaha came and went... and they roared on into the night, heading for Denver, oblivious to anything but their own pleasure. Rayne was insatiable, unstoppable... He fed again during the marathon lovemaking session, and this time his quarry was more than willing. It was as if the bond between them strengthened whilst he was feeding. Marc could almost feel the Vampire's pleasure as he sank fangs and penis deeper into his lover's vibrant, human body. They were kneeling on the floor of the compartment and visible in the narrow strip of mirror on the back of the door, Rayne crouched behind him, holding him and biting him, both bodies streaked with perspiration and dust and blood; hair sweat-slick and disarrayed. Marc admired the stiffness of his own cock and the jewels of spunk in his dark pubic tangle. Outside their window it was growing light and still they were fucking, as they had been since well before midnight. Rayne pushed deeply into him then, with a last, almighty effort and cried out like an animal as he climaxed long and hard, spilling his undead seed into his lover's body, bloody fangs still extended.

"Oh fucking Christ! I adore you, sweetheart!"

On the bed, some time later, he sucked Marc slowly and luxuriantly until the young man was equally sated, then curled around his gasping body, holding him close and finally succumbing to sleep in Marc's arms. His mortal lover shared his exhaustion and quickly sank into dreams beside him, wrapped around Rayne Wylde, pulling the Vampire to him as if he would never let go. His deep sleep was peppered with erotic echoes of their earlier passion. From time to time their lips touched again, kissing blindly, or a hand would stray down and cup it's partner's cock and balls, stroking raw flesh tenderly and abstractly.

Marc was stiff and sore when he woke, in the sweltering heat of midday. In spite of this he still had an erection. Rayne was bent over him, naked and smoothly beautiful, washing him gently with a cold, wet towel. His touch was blissful after the exertions of the previous night and Marc lay supine, sprawled on the bed, just letting him do whatever he desired.

"Where are we?" he whispered at last and Rayne murmured;

"I dunno... Colorado somewhere. The corridors are full of hikers."

"I don't think I'll ever move again," Marc told him huskily.

Rayne only kissed his forehead, smoothing aside the tangle of his damp hair.

"Rest," he exhaled softly at last. "We've a long way to go."

END OF PART ONE

To Be Continued...