Page 51 of My Big Fat Vampire Wedding

Even after a year together – mending, building trust, growing as individuals and a couple – she still couldn’t get used to being able to be with him so casually. Sitting side by side, bodies brushing. She hoped she never got over the magic of that. No matter how long they were together.

“Why’s that?” she asked, tilting slightly so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Because if you couldn’t be all lovey-dovey on your honeymoon, when could you?

“Because I’ve been thinking about some stories. They’ve been keeping me up at night, in fact.”

“Really? What kinds of stories?”

“About vampires, of course,” he said, making her lips curve up. “Your family has been … quite inspiring.”

“I can imagine,” Pandora said. “Vlad’s tales alone could fill an entire series of stories.”

“Now that we have proof that it wasn’t all made up, I think Reginald would be the most fascinating.”

“Have you written anything?” To that, he gave her a bashful little smile. “You have, haven’t you?”

“A bit.”

“When?”

“Mostly in the mornings when you’re still sleeping.”

“Have you been enjoying it?”

“I have. I expected it to feel more like work, but it’s been more like a hobby – something fun – than work.”

“That’s amazing. I hope one day you let me read it. Even if it isn’t my usual genre. What?” she asked when his cheeks and ears went bright red.

“It kind of is.”

“It kind of is what?”

“Your genre.”

“My genre? Wait … do you mean you’re writing … a romance?”

“I’ve been a bit inspired.”

“By me?” she asked, charmed.

“Yes. But also, that book we were reading in Morocco. I may or may not have been stealing your books here and there. Been devouring them like sweets,” he said.

“They are addictive.”

“They are. Not quite as good as the real thing, though.” He rested his head on the side of hers.

They sat there like that for a few quiet moments, just enjoying the nearness, the silence after so much noise for so long.

Because, as it turned out, planning a second wedding hadn’t been any less chaotic than planning the first. In fact, it had involved more work on both their parts, since they’d not let the family have free rein to do whatever they’d wanted.

Though, this time around, they had agreed to the blood ritual that Pandora had put her foot down about the first time.

“OK,” Victor said, slapping a hand on her thigh. “How about we explore the rest of this castle before seeing if, in addition to the bed, our host remembered to put food in the kitchen.”

“Or my synthetic blood.” Pandora took his hand as they made their way out of the room.

In the year after first discovering the fake blood, there had been an uptick of marketing and availability of it in vampire circles.

Even diehard traditionalists would sometimes indulge in it once the company, smartly, started to make different “vintages” that would allow even the most snobbish vampire to brag about knowing the different flavor notes.

So, it wouldn’t be as crazy to assume Drachmar had discovered it as well. Even if he turned his nose up at it on principle.

They found no fewer than twenty bedrooms in the various wings of the castle.

Thirty-five fireplaces. And at least a million pieces of vampire memorabilia, their plastic material or neon colours in stark contrast to the tasteful brass, gold, and black, red and grey tones of the home’s original decor.

Pandora had to admit that Drachmar was right about his castle being in much better shape than the one on the other side of the hill that was supposedly his “real” home, according to both fiction and nonfiction sources.

There were few cracks and no crumbling stones. The paint on the walls was meticulously maintained, and the carpets and drapes were all pristine with not a single moth hole to be found.

“I was not expecting this,” Victor said when they finally found their way into the kitchen.

Pandora hadn’t been either.

Judging by the rest of the castle, Pandora had expected to find a room stuck in time.

If not a simple hearth to cook by, then at least a range from lifetimes past. But everything in the kitchen was sleek and modern.

There was a massive industrial range that Pandora knew, from shopping for their flat, cost an obscene amount of money, all stainless-steel appliances, rich, cherrywood cabinets that went all the way to the high ceilings, and a bowl overflowing with fresh fruit in the center of the island.

“I think I lived in a flat the size of that refrigerator,” Victor said as he pulled the doors open to reveal a fully stocked interior. Everything from fresh veg, yogurt, eggs, and meat, to kombucha and condiments.

“Sorry. No blood,” he said, giving Pandora a wince.

“Maybe in the pantry? Since you don’t usually serve it cold.”

“Right. Of course.” Victor went to the pantry, walking in and letting out a whistle that had Pandora following.

Floor to ceiling, the shelves were overflowing with every essential from rice and beans to sugar and flour to the strangest types of crisps and snack cakes.

“Choose your vintage,” Victor said, waving toward the shelving just behind the door.

And, sure enough, as high as the eye could see, there were cases of the synthetic blood. Every type available on the market. Even one Pandora hadn’t seen before.

“Looks like we’re all set on food. Want me to uncork you one of these fancy ones?” he asked, pointing.

“Definitely. How long do you think we have before sunrise?” Pandora asked, looking toward the heavily draped windows.

Victor flipped his watch – a wedding gift from Elias – to check the time. “I’d say two hours before we start to see it – why?”

“Well, remember that package I wouldn’t let you look inside?”

“I do.”

“You can finally know what it is at just about sun-up.”

With that, Victor made himself some steak and potatoes while Pandora enjoyed several of the bottles of synthetic blood until she felt like she was buzzing.

Only then did she rush to retrieve the package from the case in their room, grab Victor, and drag him outside.

“You can’t be serious,” Victor said as they stood facing the lake located not far behind Drachmar’s castle.

“How many times have I made you watch the movie?” she asked, handing him the linen shirt.

“Why don’t we just watch it again?” he asked, looking dubiously at the lake.

“Just so I can complain about the scene for the millionth time?” she asked. “Come on. Make the fantasy come true.”

“It’s got to be frigid.”

To that, she reached out, grabbing him by the waistband and pulling him close.

“I promise I’ll warm you up after.”

That was all it took.

Victor shrugged out of his shirt, put on the thin linen shirt she handed him, then, with one deep breath, climbed into the lake.

She watched as he went under the water, then emerged the way fans always wanted to happen in film and TV, but were never blessed with.

But there Pandora was.

Graced with her very own Mr. Darcy climbing out of the lake and making his way toward her.

“Everything you were hoping for?” he asked, looking a little blue in the lips.

“And more.” She pulled him down for a kiss. Long and deep. Until the heat was thrumming through them both.

“Go ahead,” Victor murmured when he felt her lips on his neck, kissing down toward the pulse point as her fangs started to elongate, begging for a nip.

She didn’t need more than that.

They’d learned many months ago that they both enjoyed when she gave in to her impulses, when she let her teeth nip his skin, when her tongue laved over the small beads that appeared on his skin.

A soft whimper escaped her, mingling with his groan.

With that, Victor grabbed her and pulled her up off her feet. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding on tight, feeling the cool and wet soak through her clothes by the time they got back to their room, where he lowered her down onto the soft rug in front of the warm fire.

Her hands reached to pull the soaked linen shirt off of Victor’s body. Hers followed.

Victor leaned down, his wet hair dripping onto her skin as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, making her arch off of the carpet and deeper into his mouth.

His tongue thrashed and his teeth grazed until the warmth of desire sparked and caught fire, burning through her until she was grabbing at his trousers, yanking them down his hips, then closing her hand around his length.

Victor’s eyes closed as she stroked him.

But then he pulled her up onto her knees, before sitting up and positioning her over him.

As she lowered down, his face pressed between her breasts then moved upward, planting kisses up her chest, over her collarbone, up the side of her neck, before sealing his lips to hers.

He drew her down onto his lap and a whimper escaped her as his hardness rocked against her.

Pandora lifted up, then lowered down on him, letting out a little gasp as he filled her.

Victor’s hands sank into her hips, guiding her movements until she took over, riding him harder and faster as the need grew, until she was burying her face in his neck, her fangs nipping into his flesh, his taste bursting across her tastebuds as the orgasm soared through the both of them.

They stayed there after, warm and happy.

Until Victor suggested they grab another of her books and read until they both fell asleep.

“Have I mentioned how happy I am to spend eternity with you?” she asked, rolling on top of Victor to smile down at him, her hair falling like a curtain around the two of them.

They’d discussed the possibility of Victor being turned one day.

But, you know, sometime down the road. There was certainly no rush.

“You may have mentioned it a time or two,” he said, his eyes as warm as his smile, as he reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “But I could listen to you say it for the next thousand years.”

“Forever?” she asked.

He kissed her. “Forever.”