To this day I don’t know if he was a real vampire or if I dreamt it. But, there had been marks on my neck, wrist and thighs, and bruises over my body but the experience was so surreal, so extraordinary, and amazing how could it have really happened?
Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.Romeo and Juliet, Act 5, Scene 3. Shakespeare.
I stumbled through the club looking for the exit. My ears were ringing, my teeth seemed to pulse with the beat of the music and I was dizzy. I felt firm hands hold me up and guide me towards freedom and fresh air. A deep voice saying “Just breathe,” was the last thing I remember before everything went black.
I couldn’t open my eyes, but I could feel the air moving over my skin, so cold the hairs had stood up. I was moving fast too, like a car with the top down but I wasn’t in a car, I was floating. I thought I could hear the sea but it didn’t sound a quite right and it smelt damp instead of salty. I was reminded of the basement of the abandoned house me and some friends had explored as kids trying to scare ourselves. Strange because I don’t remember feeling scared, flying through the darkness as I was.
I opened my eyes. The cold air made them water as I looked around. I was flying through some poorly lit tunnels, definitely old, and I could just make out the water dripping over the brick walls. I looked up and my breath caught in my throat. He wasn’t looking at me, so I couldn’t see his eyes and although he held me it was at the most awkward angle, his arms outstretched so my body did not touch his. He was thin, his skin appeared to be smoothed over his cheek bones, and I knew without a doubt he was not human. No human could have carried me like this, or be moving so fast. Logically I also knew I should be frightened, but I felt safe.
I assume I fell asleep, or passed out because the next thing I remember is waking up on a soft sofa, covered in a cotton blanket, the kind you get in a hospital, with the glow of the fire lighting the room. I was warm and comfortable, really warm and comfortable. There was a table nearby with a glass of clear liquid on it, and my throat felt parched. I shifted my body to look around.
“There’s water on the table,” a quiet voice had emerged from the shadows. “You need to drink, it will help your body get rid of the drugs.”
“I…,” I had tried to speak but my mouth was too dry, and so I carefully sat up and sipped the water. Licking my lips I’d tried again. “I was drugged?” It explained the nausea, disorientation and my hazy memory.
“Where am I?” I had asked and again I had wondered why I didn’t feel frightened. I had no idea where I was or who I was with and I decided that the drugs must be to blame for this apparent calm.
“You’re in my home, you’ll be safe here until you are yourself again.”
“Who are you?” I’d whispered. I hadn’t meant to whisper but my mouth had gone dry again, making it difficult to speak.
He had stepped out of the darkness into the flickering light cast by the fire and this time I could see his face, shadowed as it was in the half light. His face was familiar, we had talked earlier in the evening.
He was gorgeous. His eyes were brown with gold flecks in them, and they seemed to glint in the light. His face was chisled perfection, and he could have modeled for a Greek statue.
There was something otherworldly about him and as I had looked at him I was sure if I blinked he would dissappear. Our eyes locked and I could not look away. I almost forgot how to breathe.
I felt a tightening in my stomach and had been embarrassed that I wanted him. I was normally cautious, I wasn’t casual with sex and yet this man had aroused me in a way I had not known before.
He smiled at me, and in that moment I knew he was aware of my arousal. Heat flooded my face and he took a step towards me.
“What are you?”
My hand had flown to cover my mouth as the words had gushed out as if I could smother them, he was so clearly not human. His eyes never left mine and I don’t think I could have looked away to save my life.
I licked my lips nervously and reached for the glass with a trembling hand. He moved so fast I didn’t see it. In fact I would swear to this day he seemed to just slide towards me, because the next thing I knew was his hand placing the glass into mine, holding it steady.
“At this moment I am yours,” he murmered leaning closer. “If you want me to be?”
My memory gets a little hazy again here. I remember small things. Flashes.
Hands on my face, fingers in my hair.
Rubbing my taut nipple until I gasped.
Stubble grazing my face.
Clothes undone, cast aside.
Cold hands on my body, moving lower.
Teeth nipping my neck as he parted the flesh between my thighs with his fingers.
Fingers digging into flesh.
Tension in my core as he touched me.
Him inside me.
Tension coiling, tighter.
Release, pulsing through me.
When I opened my eyes again I was at home, in bed. The room still dark but he was there.
“Who, what are you?” I whispered again.
“I don’t think you really want to know,” he whispered.
“I do,” I breathed.
He smiled slowly, a little ruefully I thought, before he said quietly, “a vampire, ” and was gone.
Was it real or a dream? I don’t know. I went back to that club every night for almost a year but never saw him again.
This post is linked to Wicked Wednesday #494, “Werewolves and Vampires”. Click HERE to see more posts inspired by or linked to the prompt.