16
ERA
I watch her writhing against me with the practiced attention of a sculptor, where one wrong move might render countless hours of carving worthless.
Things have changed. And I do not know what to do about it.
I smelled her from the moment we pulled into the driveway, maybe even before that — a sweetness that wrapped me in a saccharine cloud.
But I did not understand.
I met her in the living room, her big blue eyes mildly suspicious, but not afraid, and that in and of itself was intoxicating if not markedly strange. Her curves were all any vampire might want to pass the night — to f**k. To feed on. God knows I’ve done that enough times.
I still did not understand.
When she was nude in my lap, the wet heat of her slicking my vampire thighs, all I wanted to do was taste her, and
