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Written by Maddy A. and edited by Nicole M.
"ICE BLUE GOTHIC"
PART FOUR
Make Me Want It
The silence of the wind blowing against the windows was a non-existent sound. A small yell of warning that Damien either couldn't hear or subconsciously ignored. As soon as he shut the car door behind him, he wanted to turn around and jump out, making a break for the cold ice and snow covered roads on foot. It was just that something inside of him wouldnt allow him to. He couldn't see his face, but he knew Rip was his shadow hidden companion. It was something about the strong scent of deep male fragrance that he recognized. Strange rock music was playing softly through the stereo. A mixture of deep bass guitar with a hint of violin softly accentuated at the end of every note. A deep baritone voice sung out dark and moody lyrics in a language foreign to Damiens ears.
In a strange way, the music was soothing him to relax in the uncertainty that he was feeling. He glanced over at Rip and wanted speak or at least somehow acknowledge that something was terribly wrong with the whole scenario that they were creating. Wishing to himself that he had drunk an extra glass of Brandy, he kept his mouth shut. The lonely desolate road became even more deserted with each mile driven. He kept his eyes forward on the long, twisted ice covered farmland trying to lose himself in his thoughts when the car' s speed slowed down to a stop and Rip turned to face him. The dark shadows inside of the car kept his face partially hidden, but it was easy for Damien to see Rip's dark, cobalt blue eyes peering at him with a hint of inquisition.
"How are you?" He asked in a soft yet deep voice. The calmness of his tone annoyed Damien.
"`How are you?' What the fuck son! Why da hell am I even in here with you?"
Damien yelled. His voice wasn't too loud, but just loud enough to show his confusion and anger over the whole situation. His question was more of a statement to himself, but even he didn't know what the true answer was.
"Because you want me." Rip spoke confidently. Damien could feel his face burning. Whether it was with anger or embarrassment was yet to be determined.
"Excuse me? I'm not into that shit!" Damien shrieked and he watched the corners of Rip's pink mouth curl up into a wicked scheming grin. The light off of the snow reflected to his teeth as a little glimmer of shine bounced off of them making him appear almost innocent with his statement. Even though he may have felt like one at times, Damien was no fool and could feel the intent with Rip's words.
"Into what?" Rip asked simply as he reached one black, velvet colored blazer arm over and stretched it across Damien's headrest.
"Whatever the hell you think I`m down for, that's what!" Damien replied.
He kept his glare pointedly at Rip, who in return continued to grin. He watched as Damien's face morphed from anger to confusion and then finally to exasperation, all the while Rip just sat there with a smirk on his face. He stretched his fingers outward to touch the back of Damien's head, petting him as if you would do a child who had just done a good deed. The touch was soft at first, almost too soft and Damien didn't immediately feel it, but when he did feel Rip's cold fingers tracing small circles around the bottom of his neck, he jumped back. Before he could get the chance to act in response, Rip stopped touching him. He removed his arm and placed it back on the stick shift as he shifted the car into gear.
"Ready to go?" Rip asked, face now void of the grin and lips shaped in the "O" of a question. Damien didn't know how to answer that. On one hand, the smart logical thing, the safe thing to do, would have been to just follow his gut instincts and jump out of the car. He should just walk home to Jessica and try to forget that the entire twenty-four hours had ever had happened. Then, on the other hand, he could just sit there and wait for Rip to start the car back up. God, Damien didn't know which one to choose. There was just something about the man sitting calmly a mere ten inches away from him that didn't seem all together right. Maybe it was the devilish grins or the coldness of Rip's cobalt blue eyes that put Damien on edge, but it was something that told him he should get as for away from him as he could. But, with every reservation Damien held, a small doubt of intrigue nagged at him with the curiosity of what would happen if he just allowed himself to sit back and let Rip drive. Without waiting for a reply, Rip started the car. He began to softly hum the words of the song playing.
"So....what's this song?" Damien asked trying to somehow change the dark, tentative mood they seemed to be in.
"It's from an old friend....." Rip trailed off. Damien could tell from the far away tone of Rip's voice that he wasn't going to elaborate any more than that and they spent the next twenty-five minutes in near silence.
The last time Damien had been there, only a few hours earlier, he didn't remember the house being so isolated. He could hear the stinging silence of quiet snow fall and nothing else. Rip walked three steps ahead of him and Damien tried to stay close because he didn't want to be left behind alone in the yard of dead trees. The sky, starless against a dark, but not too dark because the reflection of the snow on the ground made it appear to be a light shade of orange brown rather than pitch black, was motionless. Damien could feel dread pooling inside of his stomach warning him against taking another step further, but again this undetectable curiosity bested him and he continued to follow. Rip opened the door and stood aside waiting for Damien to walk in first. Damien rolled his eyes in brief irritation as accepted the gesture. The house wasn't dark like before. No, lamps were on and scattered throughout the first floor and there was nothing that Damien couldn't see. The almost too large living room had the feel of an ancient Victorian home rather than an old converted barn, with it's large, dark red velvet couches all made with cherry wood that two cats, one black and one gray lay sleeping on. The expensive Persian rugs seemed to be a staple for every room. "Damn son! Your house is...it's just..." Damien's astonished rambles stopped when he felt Rip place his hands on each of his shoulders and playfully shake him. "I know Damien, I know. Come on, I'll show you the rest." He replied. Each room seemed to be more magnificent than the last. "What are you? A drug dealer?" Damien laughed anxiously still feeling unsure as to why he was even in the house in the first place. "Drugs? No, not my thing. I'm a... business man." Rip replied smugly as he lead Damien down the main hall. Rip loved the way Damien followed obediently behind him, not daring to elaborate or ask any more questions, even though he knew that Damien had a thousand of them. Even if Rip couldn't go inside of Damien's thoughts, it was easy to read his face. Rip suddenly stopped short in his pace as he turned his head sharply to the left to listen sending Damien crashing into him almost causing them both to fall. Before Damien could ask what happened, Rip turned around and held up a finger for him to be quiet. He pulled him inside of a closet that two seconds earlier Damien would have sworn was just a plain wall. "What's going on?" Damien asked. He couldn't see him, but he could feel Rip close to him. He felt Rip's fingers still holding onto his waist roughly. Damien could only hear his heavy, strained breaths and he thought Rip must have been in great shape to not be out of his. "We need to wait here for a moment, just keep quiet." Rip commanded. "Why the hell--" Damien started to say, but stopped when a hand went over his mouth. Rip leaned in closer so their chests were touching. He could feel his cock threatening to swell and he thought about just doing Damien right there. He could turn him around, place his hands on the wall commanding him not to move until told, undo his pants and Damien's and then fuck him hard, rough and wild, just the way Rip liked it. Just before he would cum, Rip would sink his teeth down into the warm and hot flesh on Damien's neck and let himself feed as his semen would pour inside of him. Yes, that would be glorious, but rushed and Rip wanted to take his time, after all when you have forever to live, why rush things?. He just needed for his mother Katherine to lock "It" back up in her room. He could always smell her, "The Child Bride" was what they labeled her. Just thinking about her made him sick and the fact that she was still around pissed him off even more than the knowledge that if she wanted to, she could kill everything living, dead or undead thing on the planet, including him, with just a blink of an eye. He couldn't have her see Damien because if she did then she would have wanted to keep him, just like all the others before. They already had one pet in the basement and that was enough. Willy barely remembered to feed Theodore as it was and adding another "pet" would only complicate things. "Just be quiet for a minute. It's nothing for you to worry about." Rip replied and he could tell from the quiet hum of vibrations on his black gloved covered hand that Damien was still trying to talk. Rip pressed his hand harder to Damien's mouth, almost forcefully in a way that excited not only his cock even more than it already was, but also his mind with the thoughts of other things that he could put inside Damien's mouth later. Then, the moment was over. "It" had been locked away. Rip brought his hand away from Damien' s mouth, but their chests still were still touching in the small space. "Yo! What the fuck was that?" "Nothing I told you. Let's go." Rip replied as he opened the closet door. Once back in the golden lights of the hallway, Damien's anger only strengthened. "What the fuck is wrong with you!?? I don't understand a fucking thing about you? Why the hell---" "Why the hell am I what? Don't ask a question when you can find the answer out without asking. I could tell from the moment I met you that you ask too many God damn ridiculous questions! Why do you ask them anyway, what's the point?" "Because...you need to ask a question to get an answer!" "Why do you need answers so bad?" Rip teased as he kept his face impassive. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned his right shoulder against the dark painted wall as he brought his left foot over his right in a casual stance. "That's a stupid question!" "But, didn't you just say that you need to ask a question to get an answer? See, that's what I mean, the whole thing doesn't make any sense. You're too concerned with following the rules. You need to let it go! Dude, drop all the bullshit and let yourself go! It`s easy to do!" "You make no fucking sense! God, I should just go home now!" "But you're not, are you?" Rip teased and when Damien showed no emotion, Rip turned back around and continued to lead him through the house and down into the dining room. The smell of potpourri candles burning filled Damien's nostrils, almost burning his eyes with the strong yet pleasant scent. A woman and two men, one very large in an almost comforting way, stood around the counter top talking. All dressed up as if they were going out to a fancy dinner. Damien recognized the woman from her clear blue and the gentle sway of her soft, white face as the woman whom had woken him up the first time. "Are you guys going out tonight?" Rip asked the woman as he walked over to her and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Yeah, we have a dinner date tonight." The burly man replied for them. "Oh, Damien right? I didn't expect to see you again!" The woman smiled as she walked over towards him. The two men who resembled Rip in ways that only had to make them related eyed him suspiciously. The older man was heavy set, almost burly with a hard edge to his blue eyes and graying brown hair, cut short in a military style. The younger man was tall, over six feet and had the body of someone who obviously was athletic and possibly around his age, maybe a year or two older at first glance. His brown hair was even cut short, with little curls falling against his forehead and sticking with sweat, but his eyes were a darker shade of blue than the everyone else's. His blue eyes were jaded. "Rip! Who is he?" The older man commanded in a tone that wasn't threatening, but assertive. "Joseph, that's Damien. Damien, meet my parents, Katherine and Joseph and my older brother Nicolas." Damien smiled at them, but the only one giving him even a hint of warmth was Katherine. Nicolas and Joseph just glared at him with untrusting eyes. "Rip, make sure you finish this one off this time!" Nicolas commanded before walking out of the kitchen without even giving so much as a wave or head nod in Damien`s direction. "Damien, please excuse my boys. Sometimes they forget their manners." Katherine replied as she hugged him. It was strange, but in Katherine's embrace Damien almost felt safe. A strange thing to feel when you're being touched by a perfect stranger, but for some unexplainable reason he just felt that way. It was as if with a simple touch, she was inviting him into not only her home, but herself. He let a smile slip, even after he could feel her body tense when he did. "Well, Joseph we should really get going now, you know how evil you get when you don't eat." Katherine said avoiding Damien's twinkling eyes. "Aye Joseph, don't eat more than two!" Rip yelled and Joseph smiled before grabbing Katherine's hand. Before they left, she turned to face Rip again. "Hey Rip, go easy....okay.....just go easy." She spoke softly and with that, she was gone leaving Damien standing there puzzled. "I really like your mom. She's cool, reminds me of mine." "I know she is." "So.....what are we gonna to do?" Damien asked, feeling the nervousness return. For the life of him he couldn't figure out what the hell was wrong with him. His emotions fluctuated from confusion to content with each passing second with anger thrown in every other minute. "Let`s go for a drink, sound like fun?" Damien cocked one eyebrow up and scratched at his head, looking at Rip expressively. "Drinking's always fun! Lead the way!" He replied following Rip up the stairs, sealing his wretched fate. ~~~~*********~~~~ As Rip was opening the door to his bedroom, above their heads they heard the extremely loud thumping of running feet scattering across the floor. The steps were so hard, that little speckles of dust from the plaster on the ceiling flew out into the air. For the first time, Damien watched as the seemingly always calm Rip gritted his teeth and sighed out in frustration. "BRENDAN! GET HER TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" He yelled and then above their heads, another yell could be heard coinciding with Rip`s. This yell was more like the torturous scream of a young girl in pain. It was shrill and sharp and the sound made Damien's eyes water with worry as his heart punched inside of his chest with fear. "What the hell are you doing up there to that girl?" Damien shrieked. " Oh, that's no girl. Trust me when I tell you that there is nothing that any of us can do to her that she can't do worse to me or you." Rip replied. They could hear another set of footsteps above them, calm with their movements in contrast to the erratic pattern of the screaming girl`s. The steps stopped and Damien heard muffled voices speak, right before the large crash of two bodies hitting the floor clunked above him. The shrill screaming started again. It was a scream of pain twisted with hunger and it was freaking Damien out to the point where he started to back away from Rip's room and back down the narrow hallway. Before he could get anything remotely close to being far away, Rip had his hand on his arm, leading him into the room. As the large oak wood door closed, the shrill horrific sound of the girl screaming was silenced. There was no longer any outside noise. Just Rip, Damien and nothing else to distract. "Yo! What da fuck is going on here!" "There you go with all of your questions again! Question after question after question! Stop following the silly notion that for an answer you need to ask a question first!" Rip spoke harshly as he reached into the cupboard off in the far corner of his room to retrieve his flask of whiskey. He took a sip, letting the warm liquid cool his throat before handing it to Damien who hesitantly took a seat on his bed. It came as no surprise that Damien downed the contents quicker than what it would have taken for him to take a breath. Rip's plan was working nicely. He could tell that by the way Damien's eyes were glazing over with that look of serenity that only a drunk or dying man can have. He sat down next to him. As close as he could without alarming him. This was it, how he would begin his seduction. Rip took off his gloves, the ones with the fingers cut out of them. He slowly peeled away his black velvet blazer to reveal a plain black t-shirt, hanging loosely off of him with white words written on them that Damien's eyes were too unfocused to center on. He felt Rip put his hand on his jean clad upper thigh, but Damien didn't ask him to move it. No, the feeling of Rip's hand over his thigh, gently patting him excited Damien in a way that he'd never expected another man's touch to. It was as if Damien was out of his body and was watching himself from the outside. His breaths deepened and he watched himself reach out his hand and place it on Rip's leg timidly. He watched as Rip grinned that cocky grin that Damien was becoming all too used by. That same grin that he was starting to find adorable. He turned his face to look at Rip and before Damien could stop himself he found himself leaning in. Closer and closer his face went, desperate for contact with two, moist pink lips only inches away from his. Rip pulled back, just enough so Damien would have to lean in a little more. He placed his hand on Damien's lower back to urge him to take it deeper, take him deeper onto the bed if he wanted the kiss that he knew he did. Rip's back was pressing against his mattress as Damien lay partially on top of him, too afraid to rest his body fully on his. He saw the hesitation on Damien's face, but he also saw the parting of his lips. "Don't fight it! Come on, stop following their fucking rules and just do it. Come on Damien! Damien.....Damien..." Rip whispered as he licked his lips to entice him. Damien nodded his head in agreement and as if he was in a trance, he closed his eyes and let his lips softly touch Rip's. It was so soft that Damien thought he was imagining the whole thing until he felt Rip's lips press harder against his in a crushing manner. His small beard and mustache rubbed against the softness of Rip's chin, scratching against him in a most pleasant manner. Damien could feel Rip's grip on his back deepen as he pulled him down on top of him with a muffled grunt. Rip raised his hips so Damien could feel his cock brush against his. Any thoughts of stopping immediately disappeared out of Damien's mind as he felt Rip's hot, moist tongue snake over his, threatening to take him to heights he'd never thought possible with another man. It was a quick smooth pattern from Rip's expert mouth. Rip had done this before, made another man weak at his touch and he loved being the one with the power to do that. Damien's hand found its way to the back of Rip's head and he held him there, letting his fingers get lost in the mass of soft waves and curls as he gently pushed his cock to meet Rip's. He pulled his lips off of Rip's, the sound of wet, parting lips echoing in the silence of the room as Damien leaned his head over to the side of Rip's neck and began to kiss him there. It was nice, so fucking nice that Damien knew that if he just kept that up he could cum in his jeans. Something in the back of his mind was telling him to stop while he still could, but he tried to ignore that gentle nag. His eyes were closed and it was easy to get lost in the endless sea of Rip's flesh that seemed to consume him. Rip was enjoying himself, how could he not? The gentle yet forceful way that Damien was handling him was exciting, but Rip wasn't the submissive type. No, he was the aggressor and he showed Damien that as he almost effortlessly flipped him over by locking his leg around Damien`s back. Damien opened his eyes and for a moment he thought he saw Rip's eyes glowing a fiery red, but before he could look close enough to be sure, Rip brought his head down and buried it in his neck. He felt Rip's tongue lick a line from his cheek all the way down his brown skin to his pulse point before pulling off and straddling him so he was sitting above Damien's denim clad and hardening cock. He slowly peeled off his black t-shirt, exposing the pale skin of his thin chest. Damien was surprised to see so many tattoos on Rip's body. He already knew about the cross on his wrist, but there were three more. The two on his upper arm looked to be renditions of some sort of saint or religious figure while the other one was a basically one long tattoo that ran down the entire length of the right side of his rib cage. The design was something that Damien had never seen and the tattoo enthusiast inside of him wanted to ask where he got the idea from, but he was too caught up with the confusion as to why Rip' s body was making his dick so hard to even say a word. He watched as Rip stared him down. Damien's eyes kept opening and closing, an effect from the alcohol and with each new look, he swore that Rip's eye color kept changing from blue to red. He watched as Rip licked his lips, wetting the tip of his finger in his own mouth and slowly graze it over one of his pink nipples until it hardened under his own touch. Watching Rip touch himself, Damien's started to slowly raise his hips up to come in contact with Rip 's clothed backside. Rip slid his hand down from his nipple and to his stomach, resting at the tops of his almost too tight dark colored pants. Rip was smirking, licking his lips at the anticipation on Damien's face. He unbuttoned his pants, exposing another tattoo right above his cock. Damien brought his hand up to trace over the dark inked lines, but Rip had had enough of all the slow, careful touches. No, caution should be left for the wind. He snatched Damien's hands away and pinned them back, stretched up and away so he couldn't touch him or make a move. When Rip wanted to be touched, he'd make Damien touch him. He held him like that as he started to kiss him again before pulling off and ordering Damien to take off his white t- shirt and exposing his own tattooed arms. Surprised by Rip's sudden change from tender lover to forceful fucker, Damien complied quickly. "Take off your pants too!" Rip commanded and Damien lifted his hips so he could slide his jeans down. Rip helped him and once off, tossed them off to the floor before straddling him again. "Wait! I mean, slow down! Wait! I can't do this. Stop, I can't, I gotta stop!! I'm fucking not...fuck...I got a wife.....I should go.....I should go!" Damien said suddenly panicking with the thoughts of what he was about to do and with who. When he tried to get up, Rip pushed him forcefully back down and pinned his wrists back up above his head again without saying a word. Damien knew he should fight it, fight him, but his leaking cock was telling him not to. It wasn't the time to try and remember his vows of devotion to a woman who had long forgotten hers. He made the decision to allow himself one night of freedom without any questions. He could feel Rip licking small circles around his neck, gently biting and sucking in his russet colored flesh. The gentle pressure started to deepen and for a moment it felt as if Rip was biting into him, full out biting. It was as if Damien was in a trance, seduced by the feeling of pressure on his neck and all he could do was sigh out in slight discomfort and pull Rip's body closer so their cocks could continue to rub. He could feel the force slacken until it had subsided completely and all the feeling that was left was of Rip licking curves into his neck, lapping up his taste. His mouth traveled from his neck, down his brown chest, bare of hair, stopping at one of Damien's mauve nipples. Taking it in, he gently rubbed his teeth over it, nipping at it until it stood hard and proud, dripping with his saliva. Damien made a mewling sound with each gentle lick and suckle. He felt Rip's hand snake down inside of his boxers, gripping his cock and giving it one long tug before the door burst open and the sound of loud shrill screaming interrupted the silence of their pants and moans.... TBC (c) Madison Dante 2005 FEEDBACK IS GREATLY ENCOURAGED! Wanna know what happenes next? You would if you were in my yahoo group. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MaddyA_Stories