Moonlight Lovers

One

GODRIC put his hand around the neck of the woman looking up at him from the bed. They were both completely naked. He was thrusting incredibly faster into her as she whimpered painfully beneath him, pinning her weak hands on the bed.

His breathing was fast and short, panting sexily against the woman's skin. His cool breath seemed to tickle and pain the woman simultaneously, she was burying herself deeper and deeper into the soft mattress under Godric's weight. And he wasn’t paying any heed to the silent noises the woman was making.

The bed and the small table beside it was shaking with his every movement. The floor was scratched with the erratic back and forth motion of the feet of the bed. Earlier, the lamp had fallen off the floor while the woman was on top of him. And the walls created loud thumping sounds each time the furniture hits it.

But that was almost two hours ago.

Yet, Godric was nowhere near being satisfied. In fact, the longer they make love, the needier he gets.

Godric collected both of the woman’s hands, pinning her wrists on the bed above her head. He brought his face to the woman’s breasts, brushing his lips against her hard n****e.

He slowed down a little when the woman writhed in pain. She did so earlier, too, even at his simplest touch. Godric clenched his jaw. He was expecting it, but not too soon. Yet he knew her whole body must feel sore by now, especially the part between her legs. They’ve been at it for hours, and even when he is slowing down, he’s not really slowing down at all. At least not to her.

The truth was, no woman had ever endured him in bed. Every time he would meet someone who he thinks could finally give him the satisfaction he wanted from a woman, he would end up disappointed once they are finally in the middle of passionate lovemaking.

Godric met the woman last night at a bar and was very straightforward. He liked it. He likes women who know what she wants and works herself to get it. Needless to say, it turns him on big time when a woman makes the first move. Not that he ever had to be the one to make the first move.

When they arrived at his house, she was the one who stripped him out of his clothes. She was so horny, so desperate to get laid. Her lewd neediness was very evident in her eyes while she was looking up at him as she sank to her knees on the floor. And she lasted more than an hour riding him as they got in bed, he was sure her legs must be burning.

But after a couple of hours, her cries of pleasure slowly turned into aching sobs. And Godric always hates it when it happens.

It’s not like he could just stop in the middle of it all. He had never stopped mid-s*x for anyone’s sake. When he’s still high on pleasurable s*x, there’s no way he is going to just end it.

By the fifth hour, he was like having s*x with a lifeless body. The woman was not responding anymore. Her face was buried on the mattress as his hand clutched her hair. Godric still kept his pace. But starts to feel like he was f**king a puppet instead of a human being.

The whole ordeal lasted for a good ten hours. When he climbed out of the bed, he turned to look at the woman who was obviously spent from their rigorous lovemaking, her arms were falling down the side of the bed, and she was not moving at all.

Godric cursed under his breath, picked up his pants on the floor, and slipped into them. He grabbed the robe from the couch and put it on, keeping the front side untied so his bare chest is on display.

He went downstairs to get a glass of water. As soon as he closed the refrigerator door, he found his assistant Silas standing next to him. His arms are folded in front of his chest. He looked annoyed.

“Busy on your newest prey?”

Godric’s eyes narrowed at the tone Silas used. “Jealous? I can find you another one like her so you can get laid, too. Maybe then you’d stop being so grumpy.”

He did not wait for his assistant’s response. He walked outside the kitchen and to his study.

Silas followed and slammed the door behind him as they entered the room. “Did you leave a half-dead woman in your room?” Silas asked, frustrated. “Again?”

Godric was not looking but he could tell Silas was massaging his temples. He walked to the table nearby where a silver bottle—a gift from a faraway friend, Roald Hosmurg, a respected member of what serves as the vampire society’s law and order, a blood being who is a few centuries older than him, and who he once considered his mentor shortly after he was changed into a vampire—and an empty wine glass were sitting on top.

Godric uncorked the bottle and poured a generous amount of liquid into the glass. He swirled the crimson-colored fluid and sniffed the air above it, smiling as he recognized the scent. This was the only reason why he was able to stop himself from drinking the blood of the human upstairs. Roald Hosmurg’s gift couldn’t have arrived at a better time. He was perhaps the only vampire he knew who could freshly preserve blood—the taste of the crimson liquid inside those bottles Roald would send him from time to time tastes exactly as fresh as the blood oozing from the jugular of a human who had just been killed. Hosmurg must be aware of the barbaric scandal Godric has created himself, leaving trails of corpses wherever he goes.

“Relax Silas, I didn’t drink a drop of her blood,” he said. “I’m sure she’s still alive.”

“How many times has it been this week? You are risking your identity being blown! You are the only vampire I know to be this careless!” Silas pointed.

Godric quickly glanced at the younger man. He was used to his scolding. He put his drink back to the table, licking his lower lips that were tainted red after sipping from the glass. “I crave peculiarity, you know that. And stop shouting. It’s not my fault I am incapable of holding myself back once I start getting into it. It’s in my nature and you know it.”