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He bit deeply and my hands gripped his arms tightly. I felt his lips pulling on my tender flesh, and I pressed my body up against his. The rapture of his bite was pure and complete. Never had the bite of a vampire brought such pleasure to me. His tongue slid over the wound, then he tore himself away. I saw his lips, dark with my blood, and I did a rash, flagrantly lascivious thing. I licked the blood from his mouth and found myself kissing him deeply.

His hands tangled in my hair as he answered my kiss, then he drew me away. “Drink,” he said.

I wrapped my arms around him and sank my teeth sharply into his throat. He shuddered against me while I drank, swiftly, deeply, and desperately. His blood was rich, thick and cold, far different from mortal blood. And yet, I knew, it was powerful. That power filled me until I was writhing with its fierceness as I felt my wounds close and heal.

Abruptly, he shoved me away. He was flustered and flushed. Awkwardly, he rose to his feet and stood over me.

My fingers slid over my breast, finding it whole as he watched me.

Words, hot, torrid and desperate were not spoken with our lips, but raged in our eyes.

And then we spoke, but not of what we felt.

“Your clothes are soaked. ”

“So are yours, sir. ”

He nodded.

I rested on his bed, my body propped on my elbows, my damp hair falling darkly over my shoulder.

“We have only just met,” he said after a moment.

“And yet?”

He laughed. “I dare not come close to you. ”

Call me what you will. Perhaps I am a wanton woman. I do not care. I loved him and I knew it. Yes, he was beautiful to behold, but his eyes, the story that lingered deep in their recesses…those eyes, spoke to me and I knew his soul. And I knew I loved him.

Standing, I slid off my cloak, heavy with the wet of the rain, then my dress. Trying to look as innocent as possible as I stood in my underclothes, I handed him my clothing. He took them and carefully hung them from an ornate candelabra tucked in a corner. Then he took off his coat and paused.

The sun was rising. I could see that it would shed its deadly rays into the mausoleum. Behind the crypt, we would be quite safe.

I sat back down on the bed and waited for him to return. I was well aware that we both knew that once he returned to me our passion would speak.

The vampire returned and slowly stretched out beside me, still in his damp clothes, save his coat. He closed his eyes, a pretense to sleep.

“You, sir, are a liar,” I chided him.

His eyes flashed open and he regarded me for a long moment. “Am I?”

I smiled at him softly while I gathered myself in my most demure pose.

“I could say the same of you,” he responded, gesturing to my false modesty.

“Then do,” I said boldly.

Instantly his hands were in my hair and his lips were on mine. We kissed ravenously, his body pressing me against the wall. Never had I felt such hunger and our kisses consumed me. I was barely aware of my hands undressing him as he undressed me.

“Your name,” I gasped between kisses.

He laughed and flung me down then covered my mouth with his. “Why ask now?”

Sliding my hands into his hair, I pulled him back from me. “Because, sir, I am about to make you my lover. ”

“I am already your lover,” was his taunting response.

“Then I am truly a wanton woman,” I decided as his mouth deliciously tormented my neck with small, shallow bites.