Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I don’t care. Just don’t pull the blood away. Ever again. Don’t. Please. Don’t.
I’m begging only inside my head because I’m so lost in the ecstasy of the blood lust, I can’t feel anything outside of myself. I’m just… floating. Floating in pure satisfaction. Like this moment is my heaven. My reward for all those shitty decades that came before.
Paul’s arms are around me. Holding me. Cradling me like I’m his something special.
And I am. We are special.
It’s been him and me for so long now. Forever, I think.
And why? Why have I been pushing him away when he tastes like this? I feel the loss of all the blood I could’ve had. All the moments of lust. I should’ve been sleeping with him. Feeding on him. Letting him touch me any way he wants. It’s not like I actually mind it. It just felt like selling my soul all over again every time I felt the need for the blood.
But it’s different now. I don’t know what changed, but something has.
I want him.
Desperately.
I pull back and relish in the feeling of the blood dripping from my lips, the sticky heat of it, the smell. The tickle when it slides under my jaw and down my neck. “Don’t leave me. Paul, please don’t—”
“Shhhhh.” Paul is smoothing my hair away from my sweaty face. “Don’t worry about that. Just drink now. Drink.”
So I do. Press my mouth back into his wrist and suck it all down. Like a fiend. An addict. Some sick creature. But I don’t care. I don’t care about my soul, or my other life, or my future, for that matter.
All I want is for this moment to exist into eternity.
All I want is Paul. The monster who made me. The only being in this brutal world who loves me.
This is when I realize that I’m jerking myself off and it just adds to the whole experience. The building pressure inside me. The blood rushing through my body. The climax, so close now. But I hold back. I don’t want it to come. Because that is an ending and I’m not interested in endings right now.
But Paul must have other ideas. His hand wraps around mine, helping me get there. “No…” I moan it out. “Not yet.”
“Shhhhh.” Paul is petting my head, and jerking me off, and feeding me.
I get lost this. In the totality of what’s happening.
But something is wrong.
Something is not making sense.
I try to open my eyes, but there is nothing in front of me but a wash of lavender.
“No.” I almost sit up, but Paul pushes me back down.
“Stay still, Ryet. Drink. All you have to do right now is drink. Soon, you will feel better.”
Feel better? I feel great. But the purple… “Paul, tell me this isn’t a dream. Tell me—”
“Shhhhh.” He guides my head back to his wrist, smoothing the hair off my face and jerking me off…
Wait.
I realize my eyes are still closed. That I’m not in a dreamwalk. But my lids are so heavy, it takes every bit of strength I have to slowly, deliberately, forcefully insist that they open.
And when they do, I see her face first.
I pull back from the feeding to whisper her name. “Syrsee.” And I smile. Because I think I love her. And then… then I realize that she’s here. Really, here. Because it’s her wrist I’m wrapping my lips around and—
Suddenly the lavender haze clears. Like one moment I’m in a mist, and the next I’m standing under the clearest blue sky ever.
“Syrsee?” I sit up, Paul trying to push me back down, but I wriggle away from him. “Syrsee?”
She’s not here. But she was.
I look at Paul. “What the fuck is happening?”
“Just relax, will you? For once? You’re so uptight, Ryet.”
I look down and find that I have come all over myself. My stomach is sticky with it.
It was her hand on my dick, not his.
It was her wrist in my mouth, not his.
Paul must see me working things out in my head because he pushes me off him and stands up. “OK.” He sighs. “Welcome back. I hope you enjoyed it.” He’s got his back to me, bending over to pick up his clothes. He pulls his pants up his legs, then turns to face me, smiling as he tucks his hard dick away. “But remember”—he zips up his pants—“this was but a tease. The real thing is so. Much. Better.”
I get to my feet, also tucking my dick away. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Paul steps towards me, closing the distance between us and reaching for my face. He places his hand flat on my cheek and smiles at me with bloodied teeth. Sharp fangs that he almost never shows me. So he’s doing this on purpose right now. “You know what I’m talking about. Your dear little Syrsee.”