its painful glory, a living legacy, a celebration of the love he felt for this woman. She had tasted him and wanted more. And he had so much more to give her. For the first time in decades, he was filled with joy.
Tonight she would feel the full force of his blood in her body. He had decided to let her experience it without interference. He wished he could go over to her house and share her passion. He thought about what they would do some day when they mated in the ancient way of the goldens, and his hard-on increased to painful proportions.
He pressed the bumps again, a little harder this time, until it hurt. He wanted to relive that moment when her fangs had crossed the threshold and had taken something from him and made it a part of her. A part of his body would now be inside hers forever. Nothing else in the universe compared to the thrill of her feeding. And she had promised to use him as her sole source of sustenance and energy. He now had even more of a reason to live, to serve her. His new purpose would help soothe his anxious libido.
He looked down at his cell phone. He’d given her an identical phone so she could call him when she needed him. He’d programmed only one number into it: his.
She does need me. I bring her life’s blood. I will fill her every need in time.
He rubbed his thumb over the plastic face piece as if he could will it to light up and ring with her beckoning. He could always go find her in the meantime. He had been finding her on his own for over a month now. But some time tomorrow, she would call and ask for him, as her vampire hunger overrode what was left of her doubt.
He doubted she would sleep at all tonight. It was risky, knowing her friskiness could put her in harm’s way, but she’d promised only to feed from him. She would promise much more when their love came to full bloom, when he could claim her, but for now, this little victory was all he had. He’d wait. Even the genetic pull he felt toward her, his fated female, was delicious, albeit painful. He didn’t want to make himself unwelcome. It was important she be the first one to reach out.
Anne bought extra pillar candles. She opened the Cabernet. She would put the steaks on later, after she called him. She had dropped by Victoria’s Secret on her way back and had bought a new black lace bra and panty set. She’d come home, showered, washed her hair, shaved everything she could, and rubbed her body down with almond butter cream. When putting on makeup, she did her eyes darker than usual and used red lip pumper in a cherry flavor.
She removed her robe and felt the wickedness the black lacy underwear that squeezed her breasts and barely hugged her peach, which was bruised with desire. She wished it wasn’t so hot, or she would have built a fire. But there were enough candles around for two fires, since she wanted to spend the evening naked with him, and watch the flicker of light caressed his skin.
She lit the row of pillar candles that sat on the window ledge behind the couch. Then she lit the ones on the coffee table, then ones in the guest bathroom. She lit the three candles on the tumbled soapstone vanity top in the master bath, and then moved to the bed. She was bent down, match touching a white ginger pillar wick on her side of the bed, when she noticed the burgundy red glass votive and the scented reddish orange candle contained in it. She had not put it there.
Holding the end of the wick, she raised the little stubby candle from its glass holder and read the foil label on the underside.
Blood Orange.
It shouted, “I am here. I wait by your bed at night.”
His blood was in her veins, filling her with a sexual desire she hadn’t felt in years. She welcomed the change. She felt it as a gift given by someone who truly cared for her. It was a simple fact. Marcus was a welcome guest, and she was thrilled just thinking about seeing him again.
She set the candle back down in the holder and lit it.
Thank
Tonight she would feel the full force of his blood in her body. He had decided to let her experience it without interference. He wished he could go over to her house and share her passion. He thought about what they would do some day when they mated in the ancient way of the goldens, and his hard-on increased to painful proportions.
He pressed the bumps again, a little harder this time, until it hurt. He wanted to relive that moment when her fangs had crossed the threshold and had taken something from him and made it a part of her. A part of his body would now be inside hers forever. Nothing else in the universe compared to the thrill of her feeding. And she had promised to use him as her sole source of sustenance and energy. He now had even more of a reason to live, to serve her. His new purpose would help soothe his anxious libido.
He looked down at his cell phone. He’d given her an identical phone so she could call him when she needed him. He’d programmed only one number into it: his.
She does need me. I bring her life’s blood. I will fill her every need in time.
He rubbed his thumb over the plastic face piece as if he could will it to light up and ring with her beckoning. He could always go find her in the meantime. He had been finding her on his own for over a month now. But some time tomorrow, she would call and ask for him, as her vampire hunger overrode what was left of her doubt.
He doubted she would sleep at all tonight. It was risky, knowing her friskiness could put her in harm’s way, but she’d promised only to feed from him. She would promise much more when their love came to full bloom, when he could claim her, but for now, this little victory was all he had. He’d wait. Even the genetic pull he felt toward her, his fated female, was delicious, albeit painful. He didn’t want to make himself unwelcome. It was important she be the first one to reach out.
Anne bought extra pillar candles. She opened the Cabernet. She would put the steaks on later, after she called him. She had dropped by Victoria’s Secret on her way back and had bought a new black lace bra and panty set. She’d come home, showered, washed her hair, shaved everything she could, and rubbed her body down with almond butter cream. When putting on makeup, she did her eyes darker than usual and used red lip pumper in a cherry flavor.
She removed her robe and felt the wickedness the black lacy underwear that squeezed her breasts and barely hugged her peach, which was bruised with desire. She wished it wasn’t so hot, or she would have built a fire. But there were enough candles around for two fires, since she wanted to spend the evening naked with him, and watch the flicker of light caressed his skin.
She lit the row of pillar candles that sat on the window ledge behind the couch. Then she lit the ones on the coffee table, then ones in the guest bathroom. She lit the three candles on the tumbled soapstone vanity top in the master bath, and then moved to the bed. She was bent down, match touching a white ginger pillar wick on her side of the bed, when she noticed the burgundy red glass votive and the scented reddish orange candle contained in it. She had not put it there.
Holding the end of the wick, she raised the little stubby candle from its glass holder and read the foil label on the underside.
Blood Orange.
It shouted, “I am here. I wait by your bed at night.”
His blood was in her veins, filling her with a sexual desire she hadn’t felt in years. She welcomed the change. She felt it as a gift given by someone who truly cared for her. It was a simple fact. Marcus was a welcome guest, and she was thrilled just thinking about seeing him again.
She set the candle back down in the holder and lit it.
Thank
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