The Comanche Vampire by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

decades.   In the
sweeping abandon, in his surrender to the knowledge he loved this woman, Ned put
away his concerns, his fears.   Sometime
soon, he’d need to tell her the truth, but not now.   This night belonged to them.
    He
claimed it without haste.   Once he’d shed
his garments, Ned took Anne into his arms. He caressed her body with slow,
loving fingers.   When he pressed his
mouth against the faint blue lines tracing her veins, Ned did so with passion,
not hunger nor need.   Her pulse beat
against his lips and he savored it without any temptation to bite.   When he reached Anne’s full breasts, he
suckled one nipple and shuddered with delight.   When Anne put her mouth on his, however, he quivered and almost
came.   Sensation drowned him in a warm
tide of pleasure.  
    As
they made love, he licked and she laved her tongue
over his skin. Anne’s nails raked his back as their pace increased.   One moment he kissed her breasts, the next Ned
pinched her nipples with enough force to nip but not hurt.   When the throbbing tension in his cock could
no longer be borne, Ned put his hands on Anne’s hips and entered her with a
swift, powerful thrust.   She cried out,
her shriek of delight tempered with surprise.   He dominated her, but as he sank into her tight shaft, so warm and
slick, Ned shouted too.   Together they
rode and strained toward release.   Each
time that she managed to squeeze his dick with the walls of her pussy, he
groaned with enjoyment.  
    Ned
gave and took, and Anne did the same.   In
their wild efforts, they hit the peak together in an intense burst of erotic
ecstasy.   It rocked him body and soul and
they quivered together.   He swore he felt
the vibration of thunder and was blinded by lightning.   They crashed down to earth and he cradled
Anne in his arms, content.   They murmured
and muttered happy nothings.   She drifted
to sleep and to his surprise, so did Ned.
    He
didn’t sleep long but woke disoriented after a few moments.   Ned recognized the lodge but with a woman
curled against him, he could almost believe he’d returned to his time.   The aroma of wood smoke from the fire tickled
his nose and combined with a lingering smell of the buffalo meat.   He thought he might be dreaming until he saw
the red gold curls spilling out over the hides with abandon and thought Anne.   Everything returned then with a force strong enough to swamp him.
    Ned
loved her and she felt the same.   
    The
realization rocked him to his foundation, to the core of whatever beliefs he
had left and sank into his soul.   It
stretched large and beyond his known boundaries, wider and deeper than anything
he’d ever known or experienced.   His soul
radiated with joy yet he couldn’t help but be afraid.   He’d meant to retreat before they reached
such a place, to end their friendship and to put Anne out of his reach.   But Ned hadn’t and didn’t want to do so.   Now he didn’t see how he could, without inflicting
major damage on them both.   He could deal
with the hurt, but he couldn’t bear to cause Anne pain or to steal away the
happiness he’d seen reflected in her eyes.   Disturbed, he crawled out of the bed he’d made for his love and went
outside to sit beside the fire, still naked.   He stirred it until a few flames leapt up and he added more wood to keep
it burning.
    Beneath
the night sky, Ned pondered his situation.   He’d forgotten the cares and troubles of the living, the emotion and the
anguish.   After he’d become a vampire,
through no will of his own, he’d taken at least a decade to adapt, to learn to
stay in the shadows and not to care.   Little by little, he’d withdrawn from life, disassociated himself from the
other members of the Quohada , and stopped
living.   He’d existed for so long, driven
by chance and his few needs, he’d failed to recall how powerful life could be.   Although he remained an undead creature,
unnatural and earthbound for