Rosalie worked his whole length frantically, sliding up and down, in and out, faster and faster. He entered her with his fingers while suckling and nibbling at her folds. Their intensity reached fever pitch when she peaked, screaming her release into his erection, clamping down on him forcefully. The vibrations and fierceness of her reaction brought him fast. He poured himself deep into her throat, his hand trapping the back of her head tightly. She wanted to be crammed down on his cock. She wanted to swallow it. It was something her husband had done so often that she had grown to crave this form of submission. Rosalie really did enjoy fellatio. She suspected it was the primary reason her husband married her.

After a moment’s reprieve, both of them catching their breath, he shifted position to roll them over while Rosalie worked him by hand back to full readiness. He fought with control. He wanted so badly to pin her down and screw her until she begged him to stop. He wanted to bite her over and over and over. Michelle wasn’t kidding. Managing sex and feeding together might prove impossible. His need reared its ugly head, like another personality taking over, a predator that wanted to use and abuse poor little Rosalie Callahan, heedless of her frailty. He began to regret his decision. He feared what harm he might do to this wonderful woman.

Then she slipped a condom on him and opened her legs wide in invitation. All control slipped. The beast took over, pure need, desire, lust and hunger. An undeniable driving hunger that wiped away all reason.

He slid into Rosalie fast and hard, sinking in all the way to her limit in one swift thrust. He kept on going, a wicked tight grip on her luscious hips. He pounded her flesh as she screamed and writhed in the throes of the wildest sex she’d ever known. He abused her silken flesh with the abandon of super-human strength. As he thrust into her, burying himself all the way with his climax, he remembered his foolish ideas of control. Rosalie screamed at the top of her lungs as he chomped down on her neck and drank deeply, consuming her blood, ecstasy, and passion in a magical blend.

When he regained a little sanity, he assessed the damage. Rosalie lay below him quivering and writhing. Her breath came in hoarse pants, an animal sound. Searching through her mind, he was relieved to find he hadn’t hurt her.

Rosalie had experienced cataclysmic sex, but she didn’t seem to be any worse for it. Maybe sore, in a good way, but no lasting hurt, and most importantly, she hadn’t acquired the addiction, not like Lisa. Ignoring the fact that he’d barely restrained himself from killing her, he judged his experiment a success.

He dressed after cleaning himself up in the restroom and returned to check on Rosalie. She was still breathing heavily, but had regained some semblance of normalcy. Her body continued to vibrate and twitch with sensory overload and her eyes were dilated and glazed, drunk with pleasure. He watched her for a few moments as she caught her breath.

“OH … MY … GOD! I’m … I … I don’t know how you did that, but it’s the most amazing sex I’ve ever had in my entire life. Whatever you got, honey, they should be bottling and selling it for billions. I’d get up to see you on your way, but I’m not moving from this bed tonight. I wouldn’t be able to stand up even if there was a fire.”

He felt damn proud of himself right at that moment.

“I’m pleased to be at your service. I had hoped to give you a special evening. You’re a good woman. You deserve a few special moments in your life. Whoever is neglecting you isn’t worthy of your time and attention.”

“I’ve known that for years, honey, but we can’t always get what we want. Tonight you’ve done that for me. You’ve given me more than I ever expected and it was just what I needed. Would you hand me my purse, please.” She pulled out three thousand dollars in fifties and handed it to him as he kissed her goodbye.

He noticed how much money she was shoving at him. “This is way too much!” She had already provided both her body and her precious life’s blood. Taking her money felt wrong.

“Baby, what you got is priceless. I would gladly pay more. You’re worth every penny and then some.” She smiled at him sweetly. A woman with a smile like that deserved so much more from life. “I hope to see you again. Would that be possible in a couple weeks?” In her mind she debated whether or not she could handle another session with him and not suffer a stroke or heart attack. The boy had fucked her senseless.

“Yes, I would like that very much. You know how to make the arrangements. Until then, take care, and get some rest.” He blew her a kiss and walked out the door.

He knew he needed his strength for what Michelle had planned, so he fed twice more on the dance floor on his way out of the hotel. Aaron’s spirits soared. He rode a high of blood and sex as he hailed a taxi cab for the ride home to Michelle.

* * * *

CHAPTER 15

In the taxi on the way home, Aaron contemplated the wonder of his new life. To live without need for the trappings of civilization, food, and drink. To be free of the disease of greed driving every moment and motivation. To have power over all you encounter, both physical superiority and the power to live without want. The only need that could not be ignored was that of the blood, easily remedied in an instant.

Money, houses, cars, consumerism, what need did he have for any of these things? People gave him anything he asked for. Anything he needed or desired was his for the taking. What did he really need? Shelter, clothing, blood, nothing more and nothing he could not take or borrow at any moment. What did he desire? Blood and the sensual contact that naturally followed. It was his right, his due, and it could not be withheld.

Was existence free of hardship and privation any way to live? Where was the need for things and money that had once propelled him out the door to work every day? The need for approval and love driving him to chase Delia so fruitlessly? What was life without need? Could it be said that he really lived at all without the burden of these afflictions? These discomforts experienced by the less fortunate?

In truth, his existence wasn’t entirely carefree. His autonomy ended where Michelle’s began. Being her slave, her servant, was the great misfortune that defined his life, giving distinct flavor to all his moments of freedom and triumph. Yet he wasn’t bitter. He loved her for all that she was, mistakes and attitudes included. All things considered, being Michelle’s slave was the most fulfilling and enjoyable life he’d ever known.

Aaron entered the apartment bouncing with anticipation, his mind filled with fantasies of what Michelle might have in store for him. He felt comfortable and secure knowing this was his home and he shared it with a magnificent woman whom he loved deeply.

Michelle didn’t carry the same pleasant home-coming mindset. Something was very wrong. Her mind had closed off and he read only an icy-cold, blank wall from her. It was the first time in days she had closed down like this.

“You look very happy tonight. Very satisfied. I hope you didn’t ruin your appetite. I have something special for you, my special boy.” Michelle patted him on the cheek with a gleam in her eye and a tightlipped grin.

He grinned back at her sheepishly, thinking of the energy he’d expended during those gratuitous moments with Rosalie. He thought he was spry enough to handle whatever she had in store for him. His appetite for Michelle held strong as ever. Michelle watched him closely. He thought he saw something in her eyes, a burning ember sparking into flame.

She turned and marched into the bedroom speaking over her shoulder, “Come take off your clothes. Sunrise in two hours!” This was not a request. It was an order.

They came to bed nude, sliding under the covers side by side. A remote coldness permeated Michelle’s every move. Even her skin seemed cooler to the touch. Their connection was devoid of any warmth or mutual affection. His hackles rose. What should have been sensual and arousing now seemed menacing. She gave him a feeling of wariness, as though she’d pounce at any moment.

“Is there something wrong? Are you angry with me?”

She slid her hands over his chest and reached down between his legs to feel him. Her hand came up. She ran her fingers under her nose, catching the scent.

“What have you done to anger me?” Michelle had a strange look on her face.

“Well … I did have a little bit of fun with my date …”

He braced himself for the onslaught, expecting her to tear into him with a scathing lecture. Instead she asked calmly, “Just a little fun?”

He nodded his head, thoroughly confused. Michelle flashed her eyes, a brief glimpse of animosity bleeding through her privacy wall, but she quickly clamped down her iron control.

In a cold, quiet voice barely above a whisper, she asked-compelled, “Did you hurt the woman?”

He tried to issue a straightforward denial, but what came out of his mouth was, “Maybe a little bit …”

As soon as he spoke, two vivid images flashed to his mind’s eye, transmitted directly to Michelle. The first was of his hard cock in his hand as he stood in the shower cleaning up after his date. A pinkish-red taint of blood rinsed down the drain from his groin. He had made Rosalie bleed from her womb. The second image was of Rosalie lying on her back quivering and moaning, distinct hand-grip marks visible on both her thighs. He hadn’t really been cognizant of the damage he did to Rosalie until Michelle forcibly extracted the truth from the recesses of his mind.

Michelle had that gleam, a wild look, like she was about to take a chunk out of his hide. She didn’t. She reached between his legs to grab ahold of his cock.

“I will be on top this time, lie back and enjoy the ride!” She spoke in a virtual hiss.

His instincts screamed of impending danger, stripping him of any arousal. He was completely flaccid.

“Give me your full erection now!” Michelle growled as though ordering soldiers to stand at attention. This was a first. He knew a threshold had been crossed. She had never used her authority to impose her will in their intimacy. Michelle was rewriting the boundaries of their relationship and he was sure to be on the losing side of the fence. Upon her spoken command, his penis reacted of its own accord, growing to full tilt readiness without any sexual arousal whatsoever. Fear, shame, and a desire to run created a sickening boil in his gut.