Her Darkest Salvation (COMPLETE)

Kain Benedict

I heard the doors open, listening to the heartbeat of a frightened girl who took a deep breath before stepping inside, her scent hitting me like a brick to the head.

"Hello? Father Kain?" I heard her soft voice echo my name as I walked down the stairs on the left side of the cathedral.

"I like how you say that." I smiled.

She frowned, clutching a bag beside her.

"What's with the visit? Surely it isn't because you enjoy my company." I moved, standing in front of her in my own pace, her flinch far too late for how long I'd been here.

"I read the Bible I saw in your pocket. It's not a sin like I hoped it would be so here." She poured out her bag onto the top of the dusty old piano I hardly played.

Bags of blood came from it, cute hospital bags.

"It's my blood type."

"But it's not yours." I said.

"Please, I'll supply you. I don't want to be..."

"Devoured?" I smiled.

She grimaced in disgust.

I had read the Bible too. As long as I don't kill her... mmmm she looks good. A tight black, long sleeved shirt that squeezed her beautifully with velour bottoms I'd only seen in magazines I purchased from the stores.

"What's your blood type?"

"AB-."

"This won't cut it. It's cold." I toyed with her.

"Isn't consent apart of your practice?"

"No one has listened to me preach or confessed to me in 300 years. So I'm figuring out modern realities and connections to what I believe. But as of right this moment, no. It's not." I sighed.

"I can heat it up."

"Sit. On this bench." I pointed and she did.

I grabbed a old sewing kit from under my casket and grabbed the little pointy crewel, returning to her.

I knelt, opening one of the blood bags.

I got some blood on my finger.

If my heart could beat, it would be racing.

I licked it off, a divine flavor melting on my tongue.

I felt my body change, heat coating me head to toe like I was burning in the best way.

She gasped.

Bitter venom coated my mouth for more. "Your eyes-"

I looked at her, the sound of her breathing and her heart pounding making me groan in need.

I took a deep breath. I grabbed her hand, she stiffened under my grip.

I pricked her finger, squeezing as I saw a droplet of red blood.

I brought her finger to my mouth, sucking the blood off.

This was better, divine, the feeling went straight to my cock and I heaved for more.

"You're gonna kill me, don't- please!" She pulled her hand from me and I stood.

"Don't tell me what to do, human girl." I grabbed her throat, lifting her to her feet as she panicked and cried.

"Shhhh." I let her rely on her feet, relaxing my grip as I caressed the soft skin of her throat, hushing her as she sobbed.

"Good girl. Be quiet. I won't kill you."

"You don't know that. You have no control yet, I read about it-"

"Paranoid girl. Lift your head for me." I said and she did, trembling as she obeyed.

I let my thumb press over her jugular, feeling her heart beat.

I bent down, licking the slightly salty skin before biting, her hands clutching my arms in distress as warmth flowed into my mouth, through my body.

I moaned, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her flush against me.

She whimpered, nails digging into my arms.

I swallowed everything meant for me, convincing myself god put her here just for me. He brought her to me knowing I needed her.

"I-I'm gonna pass out." She cried.

I needed just a little more. When I felt her go limp, I pulled away, looking at her throat.

I licked over the wound, getting any extra blood that is on the external surface, a drop on her collarbone so I cleaned that up, savoring the unconsciousness of her to see her relaxed and without tears and fear.

I sat on the floor, keeping her in my arms, almost bridal style as her head had fallen back, exposing her most divine area to me. The veins in her throat were dark and beautiful.  So I took the time to observe.

Her eyes were shut, but they were doe like, nearly black with an innocent flickering whenever she peered up at me.

I had read in the new Bible that priests could marry. Not like it was long ago when I was forbidden to sexual temptation including women.

But before I had any thoughts of making Elira mine, I had to venture and taste other humans, see if she's special or it's just because she is the first one I've smelt or seen.

I brushed her her black hair from her face and felt her pulse which was fine.

I leaned down, kissing over her delicate lips.

She was captivating. But I needed more time outside. I had to study how others made me feel and how their smells made me hunger.

I once again licked over her wound as I found it to be fading relatively fast, only leaving a shadow of marks.

I hoped she'd never wake up. Observing her brought me far to much enjoyment.

I held her, feeling her throat with my hand, the bones of her fragile esophagus.

Never had I experienced such dark thoughts. I always thought of myself to be a good man, I have good morals.

Or I did.

I let my nails soft brush along her chest, feeling her sternum, careful to just move down her stomach and not focus on her intimate parts. I may have changed but I still respect women.

I felt over her flat stomach, to her side, her pelvic bones very apparent with her thin stomach. She was definitely on the leaner side, but she looked fit naturally, it worked for her, her small frame suiting her sharp, feminine face.

I ran my hand down her slim arm, touching her hand, picking it up as I analyzed her nails that were painted.

They were beautiful, men didn't enjoy these in my day but this is far more advanced.

I felt her fingers twitch and placed my hand on her throat as in ice pack.

She opened her eyes, shutting them for a minute before opening them again.

Then they went wide and she tried moving from my lap.

I held her down.

"Let's be smart darling."