A Zoey/Erik fic.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own the House of Night series. If I did, there wouldn't be so many fracking typos in it.
A/N: Well, I started reading this series while camping with my family - and it's a bigger testament to how little my family and I get along than it is to my reading skills that I read the first four books in three days.
I started this fic just after I finished reading the fourth book, so it will take place before the end of that book. In this, Erik doesn't send Zoey out of the classroom after their Othello scene.
I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it.
As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!
"We need to talk," I told him, my voice wavering though I tried to be strong.
"You need to get to your next class," he replied in a clipped tone, looking away as he headed towards his office. To an outside observer, his tone would seem unconcerned and detached, but I could feel the emotion pouring off of him in waves. His prowess as an actor made it easier for him to hide how this was affecting him. To anyone else, he looked like a teacher who was tidying up his classroom and getting ready to head onto break.
I wasn't nearly so skilled with covering up my emotions. "I don't care about my next class," I insisted, stepping towards him.
"Don't." His voice was hot and powerful now, and it was enough to make me pause in his step. I couldn't fathom the change in him since he'd made The Change. So little time had passed since then. So much had changed in such little time. I'd made the biggest mistake of my life thus far - giving my virginity to Loren - and completely destroyed whatever trust Erik had had in me.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to be strong. "You don't understand," I began, trying to meet his eyes. "I know that I hurt you, but -"
"No," he snapped, whirling around on me. "You don't get to do this, Zoey. You don't get to give me big, Bambi eyes, sing me a sob story, and pretend like we're just gonna work this out. This isn't just a spat between boyfriend and girlfriend." He fixed me with a heavy, rage-filled glare. "You broke us. You don't get to try and fix that now."
I hung my head and squeezed my eyes tight, feeling tears slipping out of them. Any strength I had was abandoning me. "I'm sorry." It wasn't enough, I knew that, but it was all I had. He'd seen the confrontation between Neferet and myself, he knew there was more to this than just an unfaithful girlfriend. But we hadn't really spoken since that night, and now he'd just called me a slut in front of the entire class, tried to 'strangle me', and then shared one of the hottest kisses we'd ever experienced. It was too much, and not enough at the same time.
"You're sorry?" he asked me, dropping the sheets he'd picked up to put away. "You're sorry?"
There was a venom in his voice that cut me to the bone. I couldn't make myself look at him. I heard his footsteps drawing nearer, felt his body stop so close to mine, but still I couldn't look at him. "I'm sorry," I repeated in a desperate plea, my voice barely above a whisper.
The next thing I knew, his fingers were gripping my chin in a tight, almost painful grasp. With little effort, he pulled my head up, and the shock of the motion caused my eyes to snap open. I was staring into his bright, impossibly blue eyes, seeing so much hurt, anger, betrayal, sadness, and wrath in them. I hated that I'd done that to him.
"You haven't begun to be sorry," he told me.
Before I could fathom what he meant by that, his lips crushed down on mine. The fingers holding my chin kept my mouth level, while his other hand snaked around my head, holding me against him. His lips were hot, cruel, and unforgiving. The force he was exerting on my mouth with his was shockingly painful, especially when he bit down on my lower lip.
I whimpered in pain, my eyes wide in surprise and fear, but a moment later I stilled. I don't know who smelled it first, Erik or me, but our reactions were instantaneous.
Blood. The sharp edge of his teeth on my lower lip had drawn blood. It wasn't a large wound, and it wasn't pouring profusely, but it was there. It was a most heady, intoxicating scent. It filled my nostrils with its bittersweet aroma, awakening my mind and sending me reeling.
Erik's eyes changed rapidly. Milliseconds ago, he'd been hell-bent on punishing me for what I'd done with Loren, but the second he'd smelled blood in the air - my blood - that all changed. I recognized his hunger.
I knew all-too-well what the side-effects of that hunger were, and though it took a near Herculean effort, I pressed my hands against his chest, and started to pull out of his grasp. "I'm sorry," I repeated, not wanting his bloodlust to make him do something he'd regret.
"Shut up," he replied, and then dove for my lips again. He wasn't as harsh this time around, though all of his attentions were focused on my lower lip. He pulled it between his lips, and I felt his tongue press down on the small wound, lapping my blood into his mouth.
We both groaned at the sensation, and my fingers dug into his shirt.
Quicker than I could have anticipated, he gathered me up in his arms, lifted my smaller frame up and off the floor, and rushed into his office. When the door slammed shut behind him, my head was still spinning from the trip. Vampire speed? Pretty much amazing.
Erik spared the briefest of seconds to lock the door before he rounded on me again, his eyes thick and intense, totally focused on me.
My chest was heaving, my body was tingling, and without consciously meaning to, my tongue swiped out from inside my mouth, dragging across the blood on my lower lip.
That simple act broke the dam, and Erik was all over me.
The wooden desk near the back of the small room was bare; it had been cleaned out after Professor Nolan's death, and Erik had yet to fill it with his own papers, trinkets, and other teacherly possessions. Erik's hands dug into the flesh of my hips, and without preamble, he hoisted me onto the varnished wood, pressing me back until he could crawl on top of me. He was as agile as a cat, and stealthy as a snake. It took no noticeable effort for him to get us both into a workable position on the sturdy piece of furniture.
"Erik," I whispered against his lips as he moved above me, and an instant later I felt another bite; this time, on the other side of my bottom lip.
"I said, 'shut up'," he reminded me, and then sucked hungrily at the blood that spilled from the convenient wound.
My hands clung to his arms, my legs curled around the knee he'd placed between them, and I let him plunder my lips to his heart's content, feeling more safe and secure than I had in days. Erik hadn't just been a great boyfriend. It had taken losing him for me to figure out just what he meant to me. It wasn't his looks, it wasn't his status, it wasn't even the way he'd cared about me. It was this, right here - the way he was acting with me now. It was his fire that I loved ... he could burn me on this desk, and I would die a happy girl.
I just wish it hadn't taken me cheating on him to bring out this level of intensity in him.
His hands were swift and thorough, and after what felt like seconds, I was completely naked. Exposed. He stared down at my quivering body beneath him, his eyes thick with lust, his pupils wide and dark.
I felt a flush travel up my neck and over my chest, growing more embarrassed the longer he just loomed over me, staring at my nakedness.
When he finally moved, the pointer finger on his right hand came up to my cut lip, dragging it across and smearing blood onto his finger. He pulled it away from my lip, holding it up to his eyes for inspection. I watched as his chest heaved with a fresh wave of lust, and he slowly brought the finger to his mouth.
I groaned when his lips closed over the red-stained digit, never feeling so attracted to him in my life.
The sound brought his attention back to my eyes, his blue ones flashing dark. "He tasted you?" he asked me, his voice low and deep.
I blinked in surprise, nodding.
With a vicious snarl, he dropped his finger from my mouth. In a flash of lightning, he moved his finger to my neck, the sharp nail cutting into the flesh there.
I yelped sharply at the pain, staring into his eyes. Did he want to kill me, just as Othello had wanted to kill Desdemona? Before I could realize that the wound wasn't deep enough to kill me, his head lowered to mine, and his lips curled up into a snarl that was a striking mixture of anger and lust. "Mine!" he hissed into my ear, before dropping his lips to my neck.
From the first suck, I was lost. I knew from experience that as soon as his tongue touched the wound, my blood would begin pouring faster from my neck, eager to make its way into his mouth. His tongue laved over the wound, lapping up the blood the fell, and then his mouth sealed tightly over the wound, drinking greedily. I felt my essence flow into him, and it felt good. It felt right. No more Heath. No more Loren. Just Erik.
I was putty in his hands, and I loved it. I loved him. And I told him so.
He stopped drinking from me then, pulling his head away to stare into my eyes. His gaze was long, hard, and deep, and for a moment, neither of us said anything. I didn't dare repeat my words, nor could I take them back. They were the truth. I loved Erik, I'd loved him all along, I just hadn't known it. I'd been stupid, naive, and I'd paid for it. I could only hope that he'd find it somewhere in him to forgive me.
His penetrating gaze finally moved away from my eyes. He glanced down my body, settling on my trembling breasts. Though the cut from Loren had healed, there was still a straight-lined scar on the top of my breast from where the older vampire had fed from me.
"He touched you here? Drank from here?" Erik asked me, his voice dangerously unsteady.
I could only nod.
A deep growl emanated from within Erik's chest, and then his head lowered once again. This time, his lips hovered above my right breast. Before his mouth claimed me there, he spoke in a low, whispered voice, "Mine."
Thousands of little electric shocks filled my body when his lips, tongue, and teeth attached themselves to my breast. He scraped his blunt teeth over the scar from Loren, and then flicked his tongue over my erect nipple, pulling it into his mouth. He applied an almost-too-hard pressure, sucking my breast into his mouth. It was almost as though he was feasting on my breast, and then he pulled back a little. He teeth nipped the hard point of my sensitive nipple, and I jerked against him. He soothed over the spot with his tongue, hesitated a second, and then moved his head up a little. Before I could wonder what he was doing, he bit down on the skin above my breast, right over Loren's scar. Hard.
"Erik!" I gasped, my body tightening at the feeling. He hadn't drawn blood, but I knew his teeth marks would be there for a while. He was marking me, and I couldn't bring myself to stop him.
He moved onto the next breast without a word, giving it the same attentions. I knew the next bite was coming, but still I gasped, my fingers tightening on his arms.
When he moved away from my breasts, he didn't look at me before continuing his way down.
His lips burned a path down my ribs, over my stomach, making me squirm when his tongue dipped into my navel. I was all-too-aware that I was the only one of us that was naked. Erik hadn't removed a single garment of his own.
"Your skin," he spoke, and it was in such a distracted, distant voice that I wasn't sure he was talking to me, or to himself. "Your sweat," he added, leaning down and licking a line up my belly. When he got to the valley between my breasts, he brought his finger back up. With a quick jerk of his nail across the flat skin there, he sliced a new trail of blood. "Your blood," he whispered, before lowering his eager tongue to the wound. He swiped it once, twice, and then finally managed to pull himself away. He looked up at me, his eyes narrowing as his head quirked to the side briefly. I saw confusion in his eyes, and it wasn't until he spoke that I realized I was crying. "Your tears," he added, bringing his large hands up to each side of my face. He wiped his hands down with a light pressure, clearing the salty wetness away before cupping my cheeks, making me look into his eyes as he brought his head so close to mine that our noses were touching. "All mine." There was no room for doubt or misinterpretation. At the same time, though, he was giving me an out. His grip was firm, but not iron-clad. I could push him away and walk out right now, if I wanted to.
I didn't want to. "All yours," I agreed, and then his lips were on mine again.
He plundered my mouth with a hot fire that I'd never felt before, his tongue tracing the deep recesses of my mouth. His hands were moving all over me, rubbing and gripping and massaging. It was as though he was trying to relearn my body.
We'd never gone this far before, and as my fingers moved from his arms to the collar of his shirt, I found myself wishing more than ever that I was still a virgin. I wanted Erik to be the one I gave myself to like that ... not Loren. The first sexual act should have been reserved for someone who truly loved me. Through his anger, despite everything, I could feel that he still loved me. If he didn't, he would have just cast me away. He wouldn't be here with me now.
I took more time than he had to remove each layer of clothing, my fingers slipping a couple of times, betraying my nerves. Erik remained silent throughout his undressing, either because he was incredibly patient, or because he was savoring the moment; I didn't know which. When we were finally both naked, my eyes took in the sight of him.
He was glorious. I'd certainly appreciated his clothed form before - there wasn't a single bit of him that was unattractive, whether it was exposed to the eye, or laden down with various layers of unnecessary cotton and polyester - but I hadn't truly appreciated his sheer beauty until this very moment. From the top of his perfectly combed, dark hair, to the tips of his well-manicured toes, he was a sight for sore eyes.
I was so lost in his beauty that I didn't notice him moving at first, until I felt the tip of his erection against my opening. My eyes widened, and I found myself glancing down between us. From what I could see of him, he was large. Maybe larger than Loren, though I hated the thought of comparing them. At the very least, I knew that he would fill me, and it would be a tight fit.
Erik's voice pulled me out of my musings. "I'm not going to make love to you," he told me, his voice low and even.
My brow furrowed in confusion. Here we were, buck-naked on his desk, his thing was actually in contact with my lady parts, and he was telling me we weren't going to do this? If he was trying to make me crazy, he was doing a very good job.
As though he'd read my thoughts, Erik shook his head. "We are going to do this," he commented, grinding his hips down a little for emphasis. The angle was off enough that he didn't slide in, but the movement caused me to groan, and my eyes drifted closed for a moment.
"Look at me!" his sharp voice hissed, cutting through the din.
I forced my eyes back open, staring up at him.
"I won't hurt you ... much," he stated, and there was enough hesitation in his voice that I gulped. "But I'm not going to make this special for you. I'm not going to go easy on you like it's your first time, 'cause we both know it's not." He glared down at me for a long moment, and I was too guilty to feel anger at his words. Perhaps if I wasn't so heady with lust and anticipation, I might have gotten a little offended at his words, but I was too far gone, now. I needed this side of Erik right now, almost as much as I needed to breathe.
I nodded my head to let him know that I understood, and that was all the consent that he needed.
He pushed himself into me, and my fingers tightened their grip on his shoulders. I'd already moistened from our actions, so it didn't hurt when he entered me. Still ... it was only my second time, and there was just so much of him.
Erik waited only a few brief seconds for me to become accustomed to his girth, and then he began moving in earnest. His hips slapped against mine with each quickened movement, the friction searing my depths. I heard a faint scratching noise, and knew in the back of my mind that our movements were causing the desk to shift against the floor.
I closed my eyes and dropped my head back onto the hard, wooden desk, reveling in the sensations on and in my body. Erik was moving hard and fast, his gaze burning into me even though I couldn't see it. My body began moving in time with his - not nearly so forceful or erratic, but enough that soon he was groaning and panting along with me. My body was flushed red, and coated in sweat, and still the heat was rising within me. If I didn't know better, I would have though I'd inadvertently called the element fire to me.
I don't know how long we'd been together on the desk, but soon I could feel him reaching him climax. I was close myself, but I'd been trying to stave it off. I knew that this wasn't just about me, I knew that aside from our physical needs, this was his way of working out his anger and hurt, and I didn't want to spoil that by having an orgasm so soon.
He burned the thought from my mind without warning, as his fingernail moved across my neck once more, and he quickly latched onto the freshly opened wound.
From the first drag of my blood into his mouth, I was gone. I creened in ecstasy, my body seizing and jolting all around him. My legs had hooked around his waist, and I pulled him closer to me with as much strength as I possessed.
Erik pulled away from my neck too soon for my liking, and from how he felt within me, I could tell he still hadn't reached his own peak. I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong, but before I could speak, he cut into the flesh of his chest, just above his nipple. With dark, hazy eyes, he planted on hand beside my head, with the other cupped underneath my neck, drawing me towards him. "Drink," he spoke, a combination of an order and a plea.
I didn't hesitate, pressing myself closer to him and latching onto the small wound. My hands slithered under his arms, curving around his back and holding tightly to him as I suckled from the wound.
I was filled with such a powerful rush of sensations the instant that his blood spilled into my mouth, and I knew without a doubt that we had Imprinted.
Erik shifted his knees and held me tighter to his body, and then began thrusting once again. The new position, and the feel of his blood coating the inside of my mouth, tricking down my throat ... it was all too much. I exploded in my second orgasm, biting down on the wound that Erik had made, marking him like he had marked me.
It was enough to send Erik over the edge of his own personal oblivion. He released with a loud groan, squeezing me against him tightly before collapsing back down against the desk surface.
We lay together in silence for a long moment, both of our bodies still lost in that perfect afterglow.
When I finally opened my eyes again, I saw his face pressed so close to mine. His forehead was resting against mine, our crescent moon marks pressed together. It made me feel strangely - and wonderfully - complete.
Now knowing what else to say, I whispered, "I really am sorry."
He shook his head lightly, but didn't pulled away from my body, or open his eyes. "I know."
"If I could take back what I did ... I would."
"I know," Erik repeated, and then finally began to move away from me. He extricated himself from my body, sliding carefully off the desk. After a second, he held a hand out to me, pulling me off the hard wood as well.
I pursed my lips, gazing up at him. Were it not for the seriousness of the situation, I would have felt shy at being so openly naked around him. Erik continued to look down at me for a long, silent moment. I wished that I could read his thoughts, since his face was such a well-guarded mask.
Without a word, he dipped his head and pulled me against him, catching my lips in a soft kiss. It wasn't hard and fast like our coupling on the desk, and it wasn't searing and passionate like when we'd been play-acting the roles of Othello and Desdemona. It was just a soft, lingering kiss. Almost like a first kiss; like he was wishing me goodnight after a date. I returned the small pressure, not wanting to spoil the moment.
Seconds that felt like minutes passed, and then he finally pulled away, running his hands up and down my shoulders. "You need to get to class," he reminded me.
I nodded slowly, closing my eyes. Was he brushing me off? Did he get what he wanted from me, and now he was just done with me? Unbidden, a tear leaked out of my closed, left eye.
Erik's hand cupped my cheek, the pad of his thumb wiping the tear away. "Look at me, Z."
It was the use of his familiar nickname for me that caught my attention, and I glanced up, hopeful.
"I need some time," he told me, his voice serious, though his eyes had softened. "I want to forgive you ... I want to move past this, and just be with you like none of it ever happened."
I nodded, daring to smile just a little.
"We've Imprinted," he told me, as thought I didn't already know.
"Yes," I breathed out, wanting to step into his arms and never let go.
"You're mine," he continued, giving me a hard look.
"I'm yours," I promised him. "Always." After a heartbeat, I added, "And you're mine?"
His body bounced in a dry chuckle, and he nodded. "Yeah, Z ... I'm yours." He brushed over the marks he'd made on my breasts, soothing them over with a light touch.
I leaned forward, kissing the mark I'd given him, resisting to urge to open it back up and drink from him once again. I felt Erik's body shudder, and with tremendous effort, I pulled away.
"Get to class," he told me, "before I make you even more late."
His voice was laden with arousal and heat, and I almost scrambled back up onto the desk, not caring about anything other than his body close to mine.
Instead, I nodded, leaning forward and wrapping my arms around him.
Erik returned the hug, breathing in my scent and squeezing a little. "We'll figure this out," he promised me.
I nodded, and even though it almost killed me, I pulled away and started replacing my scattered clothing onto my body. We got dressed in silence, and Erik helped smooth out my hair while I fixed my make-up. A few minutes later, neither one of us looked like we'd just had a forbidden quickie in the drama room office.
I kissed him once more before I rushed off to my next class, knowing that I wouldn't be able to focus on anything except the feeling of his lips on mine, his body against - and inside - mine, and how good it felt to be back within him again. I felt whole again. I never wanted to lose that feeling ever again.
Well, what did you guys think of that? Like it, hate it?
I'm just about done book 5 now, so even though she and Erik are back together, I know from my cousin that they don't stay together, which really annoys me. She really needs to just pick one guy and stick with him.
Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.
Until next time ...!