again, and shit, it was so hot. I sucked, and I wanted more. I wanted him.
I let go of his lip and went straight for his neck. He didn’t stop me. He let me bite him. I sank my two pointed teeth in to his neck, into his jugular, and I sucked, and I swallowed mouthful after mouthful of luscious male blood. It filled me with life, it was magical. And as he pounded into me my lust built up and up until I exploded around him and he came in me, and I kept on drinking, but then suddenly everything came back into focus. I realised what I was doing – I was draining his blood – I was going to kill him!
I stopped.
I retracted my teeth, and he flopped to the ground, unconscious. Shite. No! I couldn’t have killed him. But no … I could still hear his pulse … weak and thready … but there.
I looked at the blood at his neck to stimulate my teeth to lengthen, and then I bit my own wrist, like I’d done before with that guy. I pushed my bleeding wrist against his mouth. For a moment he didn’t respond, and my heart raced, but then he started to suck, his mouth suckering against the skin of my wrist. He fed off me. It felt weird, like last time, like I was being suckled, although relief poured into me that he was drinking. I had not killed this time.
Colour started to return to his face. He opened his eyes, and his eyes met mine. They were wide, and rather than haunted, they were full of dark desire, like a hidden beast had erupted inside him, a new part of his soul presenting itself to me.
I shivered.
But then he closed his eyes, and fell fast asleep. I wiped his mouth and wrapped him in a blanket. I stayed by his side until morning approached, but he was still sleeping so I decided to do the only thing I could, which was leave him there and hope for the best. Hope he’d still be there that night. Hope that I could explain myself. Hope that he wouldn’t run from me in fear.
I went on a bit of a hunting frenzy before my daytime sleep. Feeding off Adam had woken in me a hunger I had practically forgotten. I feasted on animal blood until I had to take shelter for the day. I slept in my tree until darkness was back and then I repeated my hunt. I drank until I could drink no more. And then I washed. I made myself look good. And then I threated, well, I threated throughout the whole thing, even in my dreams. Would Adam still be there? Would he be OK? How would he respond to me? Would he have run off and told the world about me? Would I need to flee again, find a new home, new company?
That night I slowly walked back to Adam. I was scared about what I would find. I crept over the woodland floor and peered over the stream. There he was, just like every other time I’d seen him. Sitting by his fire, looking rugged and comfortable in his own skin. Not freaked. No. Nor spooked. Not haunted. He was there, and he looked relaxed. Hmm … maybe he didn’t remember?
So as not to push the limits of his freak acceptance I still found a secluded spot to leap over the stream, and then I approached. He looked up and met my eye, and he smiled, a full smile, twinkling with excitement, showing that beneath his calm exterior there were hidden things going on, things I could only guess at. I smiled back tentatively, unsure of my place.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey,” he replied, and patted the ground at his side. I sat, my crossed leg an inch from his knee. “So,” he said, his eyes still twinkling. “A vampire, huh?”
I opened my eyes wide, paused, and then, heart racing, I nodded.
“That’s amazing,” he said.
“How so?”
“That you’re real. Vampires exist! No way!” He laughed. Loudly. And smacked his knee.
“You’re not … umm … scared of me?”
“I fancy you too god damn much to be scared.” He gave me a smouldering look.
“Is that so?”
“It sure is,” he said, and he grabbed my face
I let go of his lip and went straight for his neck. He didn’t stop me. He let me bite him. I sank my two pointed teeth in to his neck, into his jugular, and I sucked, and I swallowed mouthful after mouthful of luscious male blood. It filled me with life, it was magical. And as he pounded into me my lust built up and up until I exploded around him and he came in me, and I kept on drinking, but then suddenly everything came back into focus. I realised what I was doing – I was draining his blood – I was going to kill him!
I stopped.
I retracted my teeth, and he flopped to the ground, unconscious. Shite. No! I couldn’t have killed him. But no … I could still hear his pulse … weak and thready … but there.
I looked at the blood at his neck to stimulate my teeth to lengthen, and then I bit my own wrist, like I’d done before with that guy. I pushed my bleeding wrist against his mouth. For a moment he didn’t respond, and my heart raced, but then he started to suck, his mouth suckering against the skin of my wrist. He fed off me. It felt weird, like last time, like I was being suckled, although relief poured into me that he was drinking. I had not killed this time.
Colour started to return to his face. He opened his eyes, and his eyes met mine. They were wide, and rather than haunted, they were full of dark desire, like a hidden beast had erupted inside him, a new part of his soul presenting itself to me.
I shivered.
But then he closed his eyes, and fell fast asleep. I wiped his mouth and wrapped him in a blanket. I stayed by his side until morning approached, but he was still sleeping so I decided to do the only thing I could, which was leave him there and hope for the best. Hope he’d still be there that night. Hope that I could explain myself. Hope that he wouldn’t run from me in fear.
I went on a bit of a hunting frenzy before my daytime sleep. Feeding off Adam had woken in me a hunger I had practically forgotten. I feasted on animal blood until I had to take shelter for the day. I slept in my tree until darkness was back and then I repeated my hunt. I drank until I could drink no more. And then I washed. I made myself look good. And then I threated, well, I threated throughout the whole thing, even in my dreams. Would Adam still be there? Would he be OK? How would he respond to me? Would he have run off and told the world about me? Would I need to flee again, find a new home, new company?
That night I slowly walked back to Adam. I was scared about what I would find. I crept over the woodland floor and peered over the stream. There he was, just like every other time I’d seen him. Sitting by his fire, looking rugged and comfortable in his own skin. Not freaked. No. Nor spooked. Not haunted. He was there, and he looked relaxed. Hmm … maybe he didn’t remember?
So as not to push the limits of his freak acceptance I still found a secluded spot to leap over the stream, and then I approached. He looked up and met my eye, and he smiled, a full smile, twinkling with excitement, showing that beneath his calm exterior there were hidden things going on, things I could only guess at. I smiled back tentatively, unsure of my place.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey,” he replied, and patted the ground at his side. I sat, my crossed leg an inch from his knee. “So,” he said, his eyes still twinkling. “A vampire, huh?”
I opened my eyes wide, paused, and then, heart racing, I nodded.
“That’s amazing,” he said.
“How so?”
“That you’re real. Vampires exist! No way!” He laughed. Loudly. And smacked his knee.
“You’re not … umm … scared of me?”
“I fancy you too god damn much to be scared.” He gave me a smouldering look.
“Is that so?”
“It sure is,” he said, and he grabbed my face
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