i am nervous. what will he think of me? my husband will be jealous, i think with a pang of guilt, as though it is the vampire's penis that will be inside me. i am fully clothed. there will be no sex here today. i sit on a plush cushion, in the middle of a small room. it is bare, but for a sink, a shelf piled with towels, and tile floor. all the better for easy clean-up, i think with a shudder. it's a sobering thought. i can sense his presence in the house, stalking. i am almost too easy for him. he prefers more challenging prey. one that runs away. but i glow to him. born darkling, natural witch, my lifeforce is strong. i hear footsteps approaching, and the door opens. i half turn. he is beautiful. his dark eyes gleam, the predator looking out through them. i am aroused, wet below. he grins, sharklike, four neat fangs visible. the top canines are long and curved, like a snake's. my nipples stiffen under my low-cut shirt. i am afraid. very. i don't want to die. dare i trust him to stop in time? why does this situation excite me so? he moves like a great cat, graceful and silent. his hunger is thick in the room, sexual and yet not. my empathy picks it all up. his need increases as he closes the space between us and kneels behind me. he brushes my hair out of the way. my heart is pounding. it is wrong to want this, but i am compelled to help him. i have to give him what i can, and i have so much to give. the room is too quiet, and my breathing too loud, too fast...almost panting. i'm sure he can smell my terror. and my arousal. desire almost matching his own. a strong arm fastens around my ribcage, under my breasts, and he leans into me. i cling to that arm. his long hair tickles my bare skin. his other hand gently guides my head back, arching my neck on his shoulder, exposing tender throat. his velvet lips lightly brush my skin, and adrenaline surges, sweetening my blood for him. his cool breath raises goosebumps. his silken tongue probes, searching for a pulse. there is no hesitation in his bite. his bottom fangs hook into the flesh, and his top dig deep, piercing. it is blinding pain. twin points of toe-curling agony. all my muscles tense as i try to arch away from him, but his grip is iron. his mouth is a white-hot vice. this isn't romantic at all...it's primal. his mind links with mine. his need is urgent as his beast drives him. the vein gives with a pop, i scream, and my hot, rich blood floods his mouth. oh, the relief for him, joy almost. ecstasy. it spills over into me. the pressure eases, the stabbing pain ebbs. he growls and drinks deeply, holding me tight against him. his soul brushes mine, pulling energy from me. lifeforce, if you will. thousands of little feeding psychic tendrils burrow into me. i try to shield myself, block him, but his beast is inside me now. sucking, caressing, tearing...all at once. intense. sensory overload. his soft lips work against the raw wound. he isn't getting enough. not fast enough. never enough. a bucket with a hole in the bottom. he's desperate, and it's so good. he drives his fangs in again, opening my flesh wider. god, was i wrong? will he kill me? then, slowly, the pain eases as his tongue laps and probes, sending thrills through my body. i begin to relax against him. my neck throbs in time to my heartbeat, and i swoon. his animal musk surrounds me. oh, how he needs this. how i want this. abruptly, he pulls back, his psychic presence withdrawing. i fall drunkenly back on the pillows, numb with shock. a thick, wet stream flows down my neck. my blood, wasted. he shoves a towel roughly against the wound, guiding my hand to hold it. he is calm now, his beast curling, settling inside him, almost satiated. i am empty and cold. so tired. he grins down at me, mouth and chin red. i watch him walk out the door, leaving me alone. to recover. to go on with my normal, everyday life. i was only his food, a necessity, and yet i will come back for more. i hear his siren call. his and others. their need is mine to fulfill. damned vampires!