Blood Dolls by Sophie Stern

couldn’t place it. He knew he’d heard it before: he’d chosen every musical track by hand, after all, but he wasn’t sure what he was hearing now. All of the voices, all of the murmurs, all of the whispers of encouragement faded into the background as he knelt before his beautiful doll.
    Everything vanished from his mind but the sound of her breathing, but the way she licked her lips, but the way she stood perfectly still with her legs spread just a little bit.
    Samuel leaned forward, pushed himself deeper into her body, into her scent. His tongue lapped at her body over her panties. She sucked in a breath as he got to her clit, pressing his lips over her.
    “More,” she whispered. Her hands gripped his hair and he relished the feeling of her in this moment. She was taking what she wanted, asking for what she needed, urging him to give her just a little bit more.
    Samuel slid his teeth over the edge of the fabric and tugged, pulling her panties down with his mouth. His teeth grazed her skin as he brought her panties to her knees. Then he slowly kissed up to her thigh.
    She spread her legs a little more.
    “You know what’s going to happen,” he asked.
    She nodded. Her femoral artery was close: so close he could smell the blood pumping through her thigh. He could hear it. Her pulse was fast, excited. She wanted this just as much as he did.
    And if Celia was serious about being his mistress, as he knew she was, this would be the one of the last times he fed from her as a human.
    His canines elongated and he rubbed them against her skin. She held perfectly still, suddenly nervous.
    “Are you scared?” He looked up at her. Celia was watching him. Her hands hadn’t left his hair. A golden strand dangled in his eyes and she brushed it back.
    “I’m never scared when I’m with you,” she said.
    “You should be,” he growled.
    He bit her then, hard and fast. She gasped, squeezing his hair tightly with her soft little hands. As the first rush of blood slipped over his tongue, Samuel knew he was a goner. He’d never be able to have enough of Celia. How he’d gone this long without her, he didn’t know. He only knew he needed more: more of her, more of this. He wanted everything she had to give him. He wanted every bit of her essence.
    The blood poured from her body, coursing over his lips and into his mouth. She tasted like a sweet wine, perfectly aged. She tasted like magic, like power. She tasted like the sweetest thing he’d ever had and her blood poured into his belly.
    He stopped then, before he took too much. She didn’t know how hard it was not to lose control with her. She had no idea how much he wanted to just keep drinking. It wasn’t that he wanted to drain her life away or anything morbid or wrong or sick. It wasn’t like that with Celia. It was just that she was too sweet. If he didn’t get inside of her now, right now, he was going to keep drinking.
    He sealed her leg with a swipe of his tongue. His saliva worked its magic, closing the wound quickly and completely. She didn’t even have a scar. Not even a scab. That was one of the best things about being a creature of the darkness, he thought: healing properties. Most people knew vampires were strong and powerful, but few realized there were other benefits besides strength that came from being a monster.
    He could heal.
    The song changed and he swept Celia into his arms. The crowd didn’t diminish or leave. If anything, more vamps and humans gathered around to see what Samuel would do next.
    A few knew exactly what he had planned.
    He carried Celia to a large table that stood to the side of where they were. He placed her on it.
    “It’s cold,” she squeaked, and he just laughed.
    “Are you ready?” He smiled.
    “What are you going to do to me?”
    “Does it matter? I thought you weren’t scared.”
    “I’m a little scared.”
    “Good. Get on all fours.” He waited for her to comply. It didn’t take long. Celia waited only a second