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That's Not My Name	By : marksandspence Category: S through Z > True Blood Views: 6314 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have not created the True Blood (credit to Charlaine Harris & Alan Ball) or BtVS universes (credit to Joss Whedon) and do not have any claim on the characters other than the ones I have added. I make no money off of these stories.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Author’s warning: Sexually explicit language and situations follow. Enjoy.
Chapter 13
Eric looks at the sky and frowns. If he were on his own, he could fly and make it back before the dawn; but not carrying someone. And although Peia appears to have the strength of a vampire, she lacks the speed, so they cannot go on foot either. Of course, she does not have to be back before dawn. Still, its seems wrong to split up. He pulls out his phone and dials a number.
He has a conversation with Pam in Swedish and then puts the phone away.
“Pam will send a car to pick us up. We need to walk about a mile up to the next crossroads,” Eric explains.
He is a bit uneasy, as they will not arrive in Shreveport before the light. The car will be light-secured of course and they will pull straight into the sealed garage at his townhouse. Still, the reliance on an unfamiliar driver and the remote chance of a crash (or something less accidental) is enough to keep him on edge.
Peia nods before asking, “Was that Norwegian?”
“Swedish.”
“Oh. For some reason, I thought Vikings were Norwegian,” she responds with mild interest.
“I spent my childhood in what is now Norway, but more time since in Sweden. Pam knows Swedish. The languages are very similar.”
They continue to walk.
“By car, we will not arrive in Shreveport before the dawn. If anything were to happen, I must seek cover quickly; you should continue to the townhouse and I will meet you at nightfall,” Eric explains calmly.
“Of course,” Peia responds. She remembers clearly the first days when she and Spike were on the run from Gillian; Spike in the trunk of her hatchback as she drove continuously all day. Once after a near crash caused by her own exhaustion, she realized what such a crash would mean if Spike were flung from the trunk. This terrified her, but they had no choice at the time. Her mind returning to Eric, she parses his phrasing, “By car, we will not arrive…”. He could get back if it weren’t for me.
“Not quite what you were expecting, I suppose,” she offers after a pause, considering for the first time his perspective in this.
“What’s that?” He responds, not sure what she is referring to.
“Just that things would be simpler if …it had worked all the way. You were expecting a vampire and you got me.”
It is true. Things would be simpler. He had sought to fill a particular void. He had a fleeting vision of what their life would be like – the three of them – the night he decided to turn her. After a pause, he responds thoughtfully,
“After a thousand years, surprises are not unwelcome.” This is also true.
They walk the rest of the way in silence. It is not far. The car pulls up almost immediately and they get in. It is a limo with blacked out windows, including the one separating the driver from the back, which is still open a crack. With some relief, Eric recognizes the driver. He is a human they have used before in similar circumstances.
Once inside, Peia takes her jacket off, pulls the mangled and blood soaked shirt underneath off and then replaces the jacket. She takes a bottle of water from the drinks cart, pours a small amount on the only section of the shirt NOT red with blood and proceeds to clean the dried blood from the skin of her torso. When she is satisfied, the rest having to wait for the shower, she sits back and looks over at Eric.
“So I guess we’re stuck with each other,” she says with an ambiguous smirk. She can’t help but think of the final scene in The Graduate.
“I thought for a minute you were going to bolt out of the room back there,” Eric comments, sounding vaguely concerned.
“I don’t like feeling dependent. I am used to taking care of myself,” she responds. This is true. In this life, anyway.
“Perhaps you will find comfort in being taken care of for a time. Have you not already?” He offers, warmly.
“I have,” she admits. These weeks have been such a jumble of emotion, but of course he has made everything easy for her. She smiles, feeling flush. He reaches over and pulls her closer. She decides to slide her leg around and straddle him, taking a moment to run her hands up his chest and rest her head gently on his shoulder.
“You may rue the day. I’m told I can be a pain in the ass sometimes,” she adds, her head lingering.
“Then you will fit in just fine,” he responds, amused.
He slips his hands under her jacket and up the sides of her torso – she jerks up at the coldness of his hands, sitting back up and laughing.
“You always get a fever after,” he observes.
“I do. How many has it been? What if I only have nine lives like a cat?”
“Guess we had better be more careful.”
She leans in closer, anticipating a kiss. After a tantalizing pause, he leans forward and engages her lips.
“How long is the ride to Shreveport?” Peia asks, breathlessly.
“Not long enough.”
“But we could make do?” Peia counters slipping her hands under his shirt and kissing him again.
“No,” he mumbles between kisses.
“No?” She pulls back slightly.
“I have a pretty good idea how long it will take to do all the things I want to do to you, how long it will take to make you come as many times as I want you to come, how long it will take me to come in as many places as I want to and I can say with supreme confidence that this ride is not_long_enough.”
She closes her eyes, feeling dizzy at the thought.
“But we can get started, right?” She breathes, trying not to sound too desperate. Her body is desperate, yes. And the power of his touch stokes. It is also more than that. She wants it done. She wants there to be no turning back. She needs the decision to exist outside her mind.
Eric smiles a devilish acquiescence, enjoying her eagerness. He flips her over onto her back on the seat and lunges in for a hard kiss. She moans as his hand slips between her legs, stroking her over her pants. As things heat up, his hands sliding greedily over her skin, dislodging without discharging her clothes, she hears herself mumble,
“God, it’s been so long.” What compelled her to share this, she will question later with some annoyance.
“Since what?” Eric husks between nibbles of flesh, hopeful her answer will be since the last time we fucked.
“Since I’ve had sex.” Duh, she thinks, not letting her brain vet her words.
“How long?” He plays along, continuing his exploration of her body.
“Many months. Seven, I guess. Jesus,” her body now completely on fire with anticipation. She reaches her hands down to work on the button of his pants before realizing he has slowed down.
“Why? You love sex,” he asks, genuinely curious.
“Doesn’t matter,” she whispers, dismissively, renewing her battle with the button.
“Tell me.”
“Why does it matter?”
“I will make you wait longer,” he teases.
She pulls her hands up and sighs.
“You know why,” Peia insists.
“I do not.”
“Why would you make me say it? Fine. Because I didn’t want to risk ruining anything. I thought Spike was going to come back. Men are funny about things. Okay?”
She thinks she detects a fleeting look of sympathy as he frowns slightly and utters a faint, “Huh,” in response.
“Do not be angry. Such things interest me. I wish only to understand,” he adds after a moment.
Now it is her turn to feel a degree of sympathy towards him. Can he really be this clueless about relationships?
“It’s fine,” she responds, sounding only a bit exasperated.
“Have I ruined the mood?” He pouts in such an adorable way that she has to fight back a smile.
“Not completely. So long as you hurry up and get those pants off.”
“You first.”
As he is pulling off her boots, she slides down onto the floor of the limo when the car takes a sharp turn. He completes the task and then tugs down her pants, leaving just her underwear, before joining her on the floor. As he kneels by her feet, he succeeds with his button and pulls down his pants, revealing his readiness. She finds herself desperate to feel his cock in her mouth, so she sits up quickly and grabs hold of it. She runs her hands from the base up along the shaft before wrapping her fingers around the head and pulling down on his foreskin revealing the glistening pink tip. Looking up at him she puts her mouth over the top, letting her tongue glide across the hole. “Mmmm” she hears him growl as she takes more of him into her mouth, holding her lips tight around him as she slides his dick further and further in until it hits the back of her throat. She bobs her head up and down a few times, letting her tongue swirl over the tip with each stroke. After another minute of this, he pushes her back, reaching around to free her breasts at the same time. He stares at them for a second – such beautiful tits, everything in proportion, perky but not artificially so, nipples erect on hand-sized C-cups. He pushes her back further until she is on her back before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking in the entire areola, fighting the urge to bite down just hard enough to release a bit of blood, thinking it best to save that for later. His hand cups the other breast gently until it gets its turn with his tongue and teeth.
There is something electric in the touch of their skin, as they have experienced over the past weeks, likely due to their blood connection. The result in this context is a wondrous hypersensitivity, which perhaps is most appreciated by Eric, whose thousand-year experiences have, not surprisingly, left him dulled to the pleasures of sex, requiring more acrobatics, creativity and duration to get the thrill he once experienced as a younger man and vampire.
He works his way downwards, nibbling her belly, finally reaching the top band of her panties, which he pulls off with his teeth. Again, he pauses a moment to admire. As he runs his fingers softly over her trim triangle of curly hair, then just the tips of two fingers over her gently fuzzy outer lips, he whispers,
“Hello pussy.”
Reaching the end of her slit, he turns his hand around and lets the two fingers slide inwards enough to stroke her inner lips on the way back up. His fingers are quickly immersed in the unbelievable moisture of her swollen cunt.
“Nice pussy.”
Peia gasps at his touch (and his voice), worried that she will come before he is inside her. She lets her knees fall to the sides, opening up to invite him in to her glistening hole. He takes in the sight of her lips parting, revealing the smooth red folds and feels the stiffness of his erection become unbearable. He climbs up her body, pulling down on her shoulders as he dives his cock inside her. They both groan in relief, the anticipation having built for too long (days, weeks, months?). She is so wet that his entire length slides in easily and she has to work to grip him with her inner walls. They both are surprised by the intensity of their physical connection and quickly lose all mental awareness, becoming lost in a frenzy of friction and desperate pleasure. Peia comes first, unable to stop the convulsions of her vagina, driven by the frenzied tugging at her clit, her body internally grabbing at his cock, as if trying to pull it further inside. She stifles a scream, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. Eric closes his eyes, focusing all his senses on his lower body, so as to get the most pleasure out of the massage his penis is getting inside her feverish body. He feels his orgasm building and almost cannot believe it will happen this quickly. Just as her body begins to calm, he smells the droplet of blood on her lip. Immediately, his fangs drop and he plunges them into her neck. He takes just a few swallows, then pulls his fangs out, throws his head back and grunts loudly as he comes forcefully inside her, the pulses of his own orgasm echoed with shallow thrusts. Peia’s body responds again to the blood injected into her, releasing another round of orgasmic spasms.
Eric’s mind swims in the joy of the moment. This is going to be fun. He would tell Bill about it, in one of those throw away lines meant to embarrass or just taunt meaninglessly. “It was amazing. It is like fucking yourself. And you know how much I love me.”
After a few minutes, Peia and Eric realize that the limo has stopped. They hear a gentle rapping on the outside window and a meek voice saying,
“Mr. Northman. We have arrived. Are you alright in there?”
- 12
- 13
- 14
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That's Not My Name