Smother - Sire #1 (Patreon Book)

Chapter 2 - Part 1

I was still trying to figure out what was going on when the door opened again. This time I didn't move, I stayed seated as my tormenter entered and behind him another man dressed in a doctor's white jacket wheeled in a trolley, like the ones they used in fancy hotels to bring in room service.

The guy in the white jacket retreated leaving me alone with my dark haired tormentor who stood with his arms crossed.

I looked at what was on the tray. It was a glass of what looked like....blood. My stomach curled at the sight and I had to smother the urge to throw up.

"Is that blood?" I asked, pointing at the trolley.

He remained quiet as he studied me.

Blood. I swallowed. It felt like my stomach dropped out of my body and dipped to the floor making me look away from the glass.

After a couple gulps of air I moved off the bed further away from the sight that was making me ill.

"Take it out," I breathed trying to keep myself from heaving.

But the stranger and the blood didn't move. He didn't seem to be affected by repulsion.

His presence didn't just stand out because of the contrast of his black clothes against the whiteness of the room but it was his aura. The way he watched me and the way he didn't seem affected with my response.

Then I began to piece things together. The bite of my neck. No, it was impossible. A hysterical laugh erupted from my lips and I shook my head.

The seriousness in the stranger's features did nothing to stop my hysteria.

"Is this a joke?" I asked when I finally stopped laughing.

"Drink it," he commanded, standing feet apart still with his arms crossed over his chest.

I balked him. "No."

My eyes shifted back to the liquid in the glass and my stomach turned. There was no way I was putting that anywhere near my mouth. Just the thought horrified me.

Was this some sort of test? Like everything else since I had woken up chain to the wall nothing made any sense and each time I believed I would get some sort of answer it just made less sense.

"You have two choices." He paused. "You drink it or I'll make you drink it."

His dropped his arms to his sides and his muscles flexed as if he was reinforcing his threat to physically make me do what he asked. He had the body of someone who trained regularly, I doubted it was just genes.

My eyes widened at the bold threat. My mind reeled but he looked dead serious.

Was this some sort of test? Had I been taken for unlawful experiments? Was I effectively a guinea pig? It was the only plausible explanation for how I was feeling and why he wanted me to drink blood. Any other possibility was just crazy.

"You have five seconds." My eyes shot to his.

To buy myself some time I took a tentative step to the him and the trolley. My eyes fixed on the what I had to drink and I closed my eyes briefly to stave off the wave of nausea at the thought. I took another step closer.

"Three seconds." He counted.

I moved to take the glass in my hand. The liquid was room temperature. My hand shook.

"Two."

I wanted to throw the glass at him and for just a split second I considered doing just that but instead I brought the glass up and it touched my lips. I squeezed my eyes closed telling myself not to allow myself to smell it. But I got as far as tilting the glass, I couldn't bring myself to take a sip.

"I can't," I whispered with the glass still against my lip. There was no way I was going to be able to make myself do this.

When I opened my eyes I was surprised to see him closer than before and I hadn't even heard him move. My hand shook again and his hand wrapped around mine. He moved the glass firmly against my mouth and tilted it slowly.

But I forced my lips closed refusing to swallow. The liquid touched my lips. I tried to shift my mouth to the side but his hand gripped my face painfully. I kept my mouth tightly closed refusing to allow a drop of it in even though he dug his fingers into my skin trying to open my mouth.

I closed my eyes tightly refusing to give into the pain. Then suddenly his hold was gone and so was the glass. I was too scared to open my eyes to see what he was doing. Instead I leaned against the wall as I wiped the wetness from my lips.

My chest rose and fell with extended breaths. I wanted to believe I had won but I knew he wasn't done with me. If I kept my eyes closed I could block him out.

I didn't open my eyes when his hand closed around my arm and moved me so my back was against the wall. He scared me. I kept my eyes tightly closed while I waited for him to try and force me to drink it.

Something soft touched my lips and it took me by surprise. Then I realized it was his lips. What was he doing?

His touch shivered through me. He pressed his mouth more firmly to mine and moved his lips against mine. I had no control when the pressure of his kiss coaxed my mouth open beneath his and then I tasted him.

But it was too late when I registered the liquid released from his mouth into mine. I shoved against him but he refused to move keeping his lips fixed on mine so I couldn't spit it out. I opened my eyes and spluttered as I swallowed it.

He released me. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There was a red stain of blood on his lips as I registered the metallic taste of the blood in my mouth.

Oh my God. My hand touched my lips and I looked down at the red crimson liquid on my fingertips. My stomach turned. I couldn't have swallowed much but I swear I felt it glide down the back of my throat, soothing the dryness and allowing me to swallow easier. It was exhilarating and horrifying at the same time.

My eyes shot to his and then to the glass of blood.

Despite his actions he didn't look ruffled as he watched my reaction. I wiped the remaining liquid on my lips with my hand, wanting to remove every drop of it that I could but it did nothing to stop the tingle from his lips on mine.

What was wrong with me? He had tried to hurt me and had kiss me to ensure I consumed the blood. But it was my physical reaction to him that made me sicker than the thought of what I had drunk.

Would he do it again? But he didn't reach for the glass.

What now? I remained against the wall using my vest to clean the blood from my hands.

While my mind raced through my thoughts I felt something strange in the pit of my stomach and my hand rested on my flat midriff. I frowned as I felt like something was swirling inside me. My eyes shot to his but he wasn't looking at my face. He was staring intensely at my hand covering my stomach.

Was he waiting for something to happen? There wasn't even time for the dread to set in before the pain struck. It was sharp and I dropped to my knees holding my middle like something was tearing me from the inside.

I bent over and my hands flatted against the floor. My hair hung as a curtain cutting my vision of the stranger as another sharp pain sliced through me and I cried out. I panted trying to breathe through the agony as I dug my nails into the floor to deflect the centre point of pain to my fingers.

Tears dripped from my eyes as I tried to ride out the pain. And then I threw up again and again until there was nothing coming out. Feeling exhausted with my knees bent I rested on my heels and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

The pain was gone. I looked up see my punisher watching me intently. And I sensed this was going to get much worse.