Member-only story
By Eternity’s Sweet Kiss
You ask, and you shall receive.
The hollow of her throat shimmers in the moonlight. She arches her neck just for you, and you press your lips to where her pulse should beat. But her skin is cold, like a breath of winter air, and you sigh as if you are satisfied with the chill. Then you draw away to see her eyes reflect back at you like mirrors before her attention shifts, her gaze returning to liquid pools of darkness.
“Are you ready?” she asks in a purr — as if you’ll ever say no to her when she asks you questions in the blank spaces between words. But you nod anyway, demure as a child, as if that will lessen the pain in any way. Her hands find your face, cupping your cheeks in some form of affection, before her palms slide back and her nails scrape against your skull.
She tilts your held back to bare your neck at the best angle before she plunges the fangs into the soft skin. You let out a soft groan, as light as a rumble of thunder approaching from far away, and you steady yourself by putting your hands on her shoulders. She drinks deep — long and slow, steady and rhythmic — right before her tongue laps at the piercings she’s made in your flesh.
When she pulls away, your blood is bright and wet on her lips. She doesn’t even make a move to wipe away the mess, so you begin to do it for her. Almost as an…
