Drew

Her skin was warm. He could hear her blood pumping. She was offering herself to him. Was it out of resignation or was this a test? Either way, he would be having the blood he so craved. The blood he needed to survive. When was the last time anybody had willingly given up their blood to him? Try never, in all of his years.

Just a taste, don’t kill her, said his head.

Don’t tell me what to do, said the ancient beast.

He knew a chase would be more exciting, would make the blood enter his system with ease. But a little appetizer would be better than another decade of nothing but injured woodland animals and the occasional purloined bags from the blood bank and weird requests for blood at the butcher shop. And the even-rarer killing of a truly awful violent criminal. Yeah. Time to put that story right out of his head.

He listened, he inhaled her scent. There was no denying it, her blood was calling to him. Hers was special. There had to be a reason. It wasn’t all in his head. There was a connection.

He let himself go, finally. The fangs released and tasted. The impact was instantaneous. Though she tasted like the gorgeous richness of human female in her prime—probably the richest and most pure source of blood known in the vampire world—it wasn’t triggering the murderer inside.

Drew hated the part of him that craved blood, that forced him into the woods at night to feast on rabbits and foxes to satisfy his urge to hunt. Drinking Alice’s blood made him feel…better. More human. Good goddess, had he found a cure?

Emotions bubbled to the surface and his human conscience broke through. What are you doing, it said. You’re hurting her. Stop.

His mouth released her wrist and he looked up at Alice’s face.

“It’s real. You’re really a vampire. And I’ve let you into my house and drink from me, and now I’m your slave. Isn’t that how it works? I’m under your thrall, and you drink from me little by little until there’s nothing left? I mean, since you haven’t destroyed me yet. I guess that means you’re going to groom me to be like you. Because I’m special or something.”

That was, in fact, how it worked. Except, he didn’t want to do any of that. He only wanted answers, and her.

He pulled her arm and drew her in so he could cup her face. “You are different. You are doing something to me. Around you I can survive in the sunlight, and your blood is making me more human. I can feel it. What are you?”

“I’m just a witch and an overgrown sorority girl, remember?”

“I’m sorry I said those things.”

“And I’m sorry for calling you a frat boy. Thank you for not killing me.”

Drew’s mouth hushed her from saying any more. The taste of her blood still in his mouth, combined with the taste of her lips, was almost too much to bear. How had he come to deserve this much pleasure? He had thoroughly enjoyed kissing her last night, and earlier, before they fought. But this, again, was unbelievably enhanced. It was like the kissing version of going from watching an old black-and-white television to taking the leap into high-definition on a 72-inch screen.

His lust overpowered everything. He felt her catch her breath as he kissed her hard and pried her mouth open with his to accept his tongue. Her arms embraced his torso as she was holding on for dear life. He wanted all of her in her bed, immediately.

As they kissed, he grabbed her ass and lifted her up so she was wrapped around him as he found his way to her bed.

He sat down with her straddling his lap again as they frantically helped each other unzip, untie, and unbuckle and unbutton. Her buttons took a bit longer than his. Once her costume dress was off, there was a corset.

“Did you really have to go all out with the costume just to give me a private tour?” he asked breathlessly as his fingers worked the laces at her back.

“I wanted you to have the full experience,” she said huskily.

“I’m not going to make it. I’m gonna explode if I don’t get inside you now, woman.”

She smiled and turned around. “Here.” As he sat on the bed, she stood up and turned around. She dropped her bloomers. “If you’re in a hurry, you can work on the laces from behind. While you’re inside me.”

He let out a deep, tantalized growl, then stood and had to control himself from pushing her face first onto the bed. She bent forward over the edge of the bed and turned her head and smiled. “Do it, vampire.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He spread her legs wide and placed himself between her thighs. He reached underneath and felt her slickness. She was still ready for him, only hotter and more desperate this time. He stroked her core with the tip of his cock and she moaned. When he found the source of her heat, he sank into her fully.

Everything about this moment was more than he could handle. He actually wanted to fuck her more than he wanted to drain her.

This was unprecedented.

He hoped she wouldn’t change her mind. He hoped she wouldn’t come to her senses when she realized she was actually fucking a dead guy, because that’s exactly what he was.

Drew slid his hand up her back and worked the laces of her corset as his cock stroked her sheath. The way his body reacted to her body was becoming something beyond primal, like as if everything about her was a drug he could not get enough of. Her blood was an addiction, but so was her scent, the sight of her, the way the light haloed around her hair. Nothing else mattered when he was around her.

He didn’t know if this was a harbinger of him losing his immortality and finally going to the grave, or if he was being given another chance at life. Whatever it was, being near her made him feel slightly more human and slightly less vampire. Slightly less. Still a hunter, but a controlled hunter.

He still longed to sink his teeth into her, but it was manageable.

“Beauty, I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but do you do this to all the vampires? Do you tame them all with your kiss? Does your sex bring them to heel as it has with me?

“I should say not. You’re my first.”

“Am I too cold for you, sweet Alice?”

“You’re perfect, Drew.”

Being inside Alice clouded over all his thoughts and questions. All he could see was her eyes closing in pleasure as she rested her head on the bed sideways, her lips parted and ready for his kiss. All he could feel was his cock sliding in and out of her deepest place, sending him spiraling toward another plane. This wasn’t just sex. It was all of that—the lust, the flesh, the heavy whispers and the delicious little gasps. But something else was happening. He closed his eyes to see. It was a weightless, empty peace. He felt happy. He was a particle of dust floating among the stars, and everything was quiet. There was no more longing, urging, needfulness, no need to prowl. Everything was perfect and dreamlike. Then he saw her. She was there, in his space. It was Alice, but she looked different. It was a witch. A very familiar ancient witch, almost as old as he was. She was the original. The one who cast the first curse that created the vampires. For 700 years he and the others had roamed the earth, hiding in shadows. He should, by all rights, kill her immediately. Her guard was down. Any vampire in his right mind would take his revenge, whether or not it would end the curse. But somehow, Drew didn’t want to kill her. Being with her was fundamentally changing his entire makeup. Rearranging all his mental furniture. What does this mean?

In shock at this revelation, Drew opened his eyes again and the immediacy of his cock in her pussy brought him hurtling back into the moment right in front of him. The laces were undone and he roughly tugged at the stiff corset and hurled it across the room. He deftly pulled off the cotton camisole and pushed deeper inside her as he reached around and felt the warmth of her freed tits in his hands.

Their bodies fit together perfectly like this, but his mouth was aching to be on her tits and her lips.

Drew quickly pulled out. “Turn around,” he commanded.

She did, and he lifted her back onto the bed. Now hovering over her magnificent body, almost overwhelmed that it was all his at the moment. She may not know it, but she was now his until the day he died. He would want no one else.

She gazed lustily up at him and ran her fingers over his chest, his stomach, his ass. “You’re very muscular for a dead guy,” she said with a naughty little smirk. “How do you work out? Does Birchdale have a 24 Hour Fitness that I don’t know about?”

Alice was a smart-ass and he liked it. But she would still need to be punished. He dipped his head down to suckle one hard pink bud until she moaned, then tweaked it with his thumb as he sucked the other one. She gasped and whispered his name at the intensity of it.

Then he answered her. “I don’t burst into flames in the sunlight, unlike what the fairy tales may say. The real answer is no. I don’t go to a gym. This is just centuries of lifting kegs with my bare hands, I guess.”

“That’s fucking hot,” she whispered. “Or really foolish. You know they have hand trucks for that now.”

He laughed. “You’re a mouthy little witch.”

“You love it,” she teased.

“Right now I just love this,” he said, opening her thighs to him and sinking back into her again.

The sensation of taking her face to face was exquisite on a whole other level. Alice ranked her fingernails down his back, which sent a shiver of electricity through him.

He was getting closer to coming, but he wanted her to join him. He continued suckling her breasts while stroking his manhood inside of her. He added to her pleasure by reaching his hand downward to find her clit. She cried out when he came in contact with it.

He pulled back slightly to watch her writhe under him, ran his eyes over her as he saw her waves of pleasure build and build. How did he get so lucky?

Her moans were getting longer and more intense. He sped up his strokes to match the rhythm of her moans, and in seconds her back arched and she slammed her body into his. Drew closed his eyes as the wave of true human ecstasy washed over him as he exploded into her. It felt like they had leaped off the highest cliff at the same time, grasping each other in awe. Surely he was plummeting to his death, but he didn’t care. If it had to end, what a way to go.

He could think of worse deaths than in the arms of a powerful, ancient witch.