Alex came in around nine
and told me that Mathew was helping Richard... he reached out and
pushed some of my hair out of my face, and his hand felt like cool
marble. It sent a shock of electricity through me, and I looked up
at him. I could hear and feel my heart beating, and I knew -he- could
as well. A sadness came into his eyes, and he stood.
"Wait, Alex."
He turned back to me and
I reached for him. I needed his touch. He took my hand and pressed
it to his lips. It was a kiss, nothing more. I wanted more. Desire
for the loving touch of a man, and Alex was a man. He sat down and looked
at me.
"Do you really want this?"
he asked.
"Yes." I said.
He bent down and kissed
me on the lips. I could just feel his teeth against my lips, bruising
them. It was painfully arousing. I had forgotten the intensity of
these feelings. It had been so long since a man had touched me this
way.
Alex pulled back.
"I cannot continue."
"What?"
"Your health. I cannot drink
your blood. It would kill you."
I didn't care, and told
him so.
"If I drink, then you will
have to drink or die. If you drink, you will change. I cannot let
that happen. Erik would kill me."
I sat up and kissed him.
My tongue brushed his teeth and I felt thier sharpness. His tongue
was cool against mine, and I longed to feel that coolness everywhere.
He kissed my cheek and began
kissing my ear and neck. He was being careful, not letting his teeth
touch my skin. I -wanted- him to drink!
"Do it, Alex."
"You will die."
I ran my hands up his back
and up through his blonde hair. I pressed him to me.
"Do it."
His lips parted, and his
teeth slid into my neck. I gasped at the sensation. It wasn't truly
painful, as the pain that was there was overwhelmed by the arousal
it caused.
He held me against him gently,
and the mixed gentleness of the grasp and the fierceness of his mouth
against my neck was beyond words.
I caressed his ear, then
traced the line of his neck. I felt no pain as he withdrew his teeth,
only a finite sense of loss, which was suddenly replaces by an exquisite
rushing sensation.
I became aware of Alex undoing
my nightgown, and I unbuttoned his shirt. I paused at his belt, but
it was not because I was afraid or unwilling. I undid the belt, and
pulled down his pants.
Alex doesn't wear any underwear.
He stopped drinking, lifting
his blood-kissed lips from my neck and pulled my nightgown off of
me. I wasn't bleeding, the wounds were closing. As I watched, his
porcelain skin softened and changed to a pinker tone. His lips flushed
red and his grey eyes brightened. He sank to my breast and found
a vein. A slight pain, and again euphoria took me. He pushed me down
under him, and he was half on top of me, half beside me. I wanted
nothing more than for him to take me.
He stopped. I moaned in
protest, but he looked up at me.
"I can take no more of your
blood. It would kill you."
"Take me," I whispered.
"I -can't-."
Before I could move, Alex
had crossed the room with his preternatural speed and dressed.
"Alex..."
He returned to my side and
kissed my cheek.
"Shh... I'll return. I won't
be long. Just close your eyes and rest."
He turned and went out of
my room. I put my nightgown back on and went into the bathroom. There
were two puncture marks on the left side of my neck that were almost
white. The marks on my right breast were slightly pink, but fading.
I wasn't tired or weak, so I sat in bed with a book. It was hard
to concentrate on it, but I managed.
My bedroom door opened,
and I looked up.
He was standing in the doorway,
a bright eyed-red lipped vision. His blonde hair was slightly mussed,
and his skin had turned a rosy pink.
"Don't worry, I didn't kill
them."
I smiled.
"That's what took so long.
If I had killed, I would only have needed one man. I took three to
the danger point."
He draped his cloak on the
chair of the vanity and sat down beside me.
"You are tired," he said
without preamble.
I paused. I wasn't tired.
I wasn't tired, and I wanted him.
"Kiss me." The desire rose
again in me, powerful and arousing in its fire.
He leaned down and brushed
my lips with his. It seemed as though I had kissed a candle's flame.
I felt my soul catch on fire, and I reached for his shirt. His hands
met mine and he pushed me down, away.
"Why?"
"Shh..."
His lips covered mine, our
tongues meeting, his teeth barely piercing my lips. He was toying
with me, tempting me, and I didn't want him to stop.
I felt his hand at my collar.
He was going to drive me insane! I broke from his single-handed grasp
and started to unbutton his shirt. With hardly an effort, he pushed
my hands away. He untied my collar and kissed the hollow at the base
of my neck. I escaped his grasp again, and this time I completely
unbuttoned his shirt. As I pushed his sleeves down, I saw that his
arms were pink and as soft as any mortal's.
He pulled my gown off of
me, and once again fell to kissing my breasts. I could feel his tongue
as is flashed back and forth. It took my breath away. I unclasped
his belt and pulled him up.
I met his mouth with a fierceness
that must have surprised him, for he went to bite, but pulled back.
He gazed at me, his eyes steady
in the light of the candle.
"You nearly put yourself
in danger."
"I don't care."
I reached out and pulled
his hand to my lips. I kissed each finger, and began working my way
up to his wrist. He turned his head
and caught my cheek, pulling me up.
Again, we kissed, and I
nuzzled his neck. The desire to tear his skin and drink was overwhelming.
I wanted to be rid of my illness, and becomine a vampire would cure
me.Once I bit, there was no turning back. I waited.
I helped him remove his
pants, and this time he was ready for me. His eyes met mine, and
something flashed across them.
"What?"
He shook his head and stretched
out beside me. He pulled me to him and we were on our sides, pressed
to each other. My body welcomed
the feel of a man beside me. I could smell his masculinity, and he
was -real-. It was easy to forget his true nature. I could very easily
dismiss the thought that he was Dead.
He pushed me onto my back
and kissed my belly button. I laughed, and he chuckled. It was a
pleasant sound, and I wondered how often he
laughed.
Suddenly, his head was lower,
and a sensation quite better than the blood-drawing swept over me.
It dazed me. How long had it been?
His tongue tantalized me,
and I found myself gasping, trying not to cry out, knowing that any
strange sound would bring someone running to see if I was all right.
That could get embarassing!
"Alex?"
"Yes?" His breath was cool
against my skin.
It was becoming hard to
think.
"I want you."
I reached down and pulled
him up. Our lips met as we rolled, and I tickled him. He went into
paroxisms of laughter, muffled by a pillow, and I continued to tickle
him. My tongue tickled him better than my fingers, and when I took
him into my mouth, he moaned. Not long after, he began to pull me
to him, and we kissed.
He rolled me over and entered
me.
Yes! This is what I had
wanted! I felt as if I had found something I had been searching for.
We climaxed as one, and
Alex looked at me afterwards. His expression was completely unreadable,
and I smiled at him.
"You are a very passionate
woman."
I blushed softly. I didn't
really think of myself as passionate. Rather, to myself, I seemed
harsh and brusque.
He leaned over and kissed
me. Passions once stirred flamed again, and I looked to him. He smiled
and kissed me again, then kissed up to my ear. Again, I nuzzled his
neck.
It wasn't long before I
was pulling him up to my lips again, and I could taste myself on
his lips. Again, he entered me smoothly, and I gasped as desire flooded
over me and was fulfilled at the same time.
Enough of waiting.
I bit into him, and he stiffened,
climaxing fiercely as I drew my first taste of his blood.
"What... are you doing?"
His voice was ragged from his irregular breathing.
My only answer was to draw
harder against him, his blood setting me on fire. I begain to drink
in earnest, and he moaned in overwhelmed delight, rising against
me, and bringing his own teeth to my neck, biting in kind.
So it went in a circle,
him wrapped around me, still within me, drinking my blood even as
I drank his. The pain was sweet, and yet when he had drained me completely,
my death came quickly and fiercely. Le petit mort, the French call
it. They had no idea.