Nectar (Nectar 1)

Then he bared his fangs and sank them into her throat. It stung at first but then it went numb. As he drank her blood her arms went limp and fell to the pillows above her head. She moaned, feeling a tingling spread throughout the veins in her arms and her legs. She reached up and grabbed his shoulders and then dug her nails in. Everything hummed at her throat where he’d bit and then it trickled downward toward her toes. Something inside felt, felt…she couldn’t articulate it. He arched his back and let go of her throat, pulling her away from that thought. His eyes blazed.

“Wow, baby,” he muttered, staring at her, “You feel and taste like Heaven. Is that where you came from?” he caressed her face.

She started to feel dizzy, hit the peak, and the orgasm seemed to go on and on and on. He’d let go of her throat but kept pumping forward, over and over, staring at her with intensity. White noise rushed through her head and as she was locked into his eyes she felt like she was being pulled into them. Warmth flooded through her body and then surrounded her, like a cocoon.

“Tristan…” she whimpered and grabbed his shoulders tighter but she wasn’t sure what she was asking for. Did she want him to stop? Did she want more? She didn’t know. She was so confused. The warmth in her veins was so sweet she could taste it. A lone tear trickled down her cheek and Tristan was staring at it, awestruck.

He gasped, his eyes widened and flickered like dark blue flames, and then he touched his lips to the tear and drank it, swallowed hard, then cussed a loud, groaning, and gritty Fuuuck, then spilled into her and collapsed on top of her.

It was quiet for a moment but for their hearts beating wildly, almost competing at whose was louder. She inhaled deeply and then her heart began to beat in time with his. She strained to listen, her brow furrowing, but it was clear, both of their hearts sounding loud in her ears and in perfect unison and it felt like if it weren’t for his heartbeat hers would halt. She felt light-headed, euphoric. She was totally pinned underneath him and totally and completely relaxed. She looked up and realized that her fingers were threaded into his hair --- his dark, silky soft hair. She abruptly let go and put her palms against her cheekbones.

“Holy crap,” she clipped.

“You remembered,” he said softly and rose up on his palms and then kissed the tip of her nose, hovering over her.

He was staring at her in disbelief. “My name,” he said, “You said it. Best birthday present ever.” The way he enunciated ever was so sensual. He touched her forehead with his lips and then trapped her eyes with his again. She frowned.

He was out of breath, tiny beads of sweat on his forehead. He didn’t look like a blood-sucking monster. He didn’t feel, right now, like a kidnapping rapist. The arrogance seemed like it was gone and instead there was a gorgeous and satisfied-looking guy hovering over her, looking at her, no gazing at her, like he could see inside of her soul.

Her body language wasn’t that of a woman who’d been forced into sex after being kidnapped. She lay there, relaxed, not huddled in a corner like a victim. She felt so loose, never looser, like every muscle in her body had previously been wound tight but had been liberated, sprung free. Kyla didn’t even smoke but felt like a cigarette would’ve been pretty fitting right now.

There you have it, she thought to herself, I’ve been seduced by a vampire.

“Never in my life,” he said, looking at her with wonder, “We need to sleep now,” he commanded and pulled her against him and flipped so that her head rested on his muscular naked chest.

She inhaled to speak, to protest, but it turned into a yawn. She opened her mouth again but didn’t have the strength or even the words and her limbs and her eyes were so heavy that she was pretty sure she couldn’t move, anyway.

Suddenly she heard fabric tearing at her back and her breasts sprang the rest of the way free from her now shredded tank top as it was removed and then her skirt was ripped off and tossed to the floor. Her naked skin was now directly against his naked skin. She felt a protest bubble up but her eyelids had never been as heavy as they were right now.

Although she was directly against his body she felt like she was being pulled deeper into him, almost as if she were a paperclip and he was a giant magnet. She let out a frustrated little huff but then she involuntarily nuzzled into what seemed like hot quicksand and it was enveloping her and making her even sleepier. A little voice in her head questioned the bizarre move. She felt like a total contradiction right now. He smelled like warm butterscotch sauce and it was like she could almost taste the warm and creamy smoothness of it on her tongue and feel its sweet warmth around herself.