The Pull

Chapter Five (Henry)

Henry

"Again!" I bellowed at my sparring partner.

"I cannot, Highness," he panted. His fangs were descended, and he looked pale and was in desperate need of a feed. He wobbled on his legs like a foal as he tried to bow to me. "I cannot stand."

I growled in frustration. "Go! Feed and return. Find me another partner first," I commanded. He tried to bow again, but I waved him away.

I paced the sparring mat, drinking in the smell of sweat, blood and vomit, hoping the pungent aromas will overpower the lingering smell of my mate. It didn't. Her delicious fragrance, sweet, florid and seductive, hung in my nose. She was all I could think about. She was as sublime as I remembered her, more so in that dress. Lawrence had not needed to put her in that dress, she could have been in overalls, and I wouldn't have wanted her. The dress was an extra enticement, a superlative measure to make sure I couldn't resist. Lawrence came close to success as I had nearly lost my discipline and could barely curb Lust. 

This was worse than the last time I had left her. Infinitely worse. As I fought my opponents, the gentle curves of her body lingered in my mind. The tantalising hint of her breasts and the feeling of her bare skin beneath my fingers haunted me. Her green eyes, flashing with a range of emotions from fury to insatiable desire, played on a constant loop in my mind. I didn't know if I could refrain from running to her this instant.

I had been sparring for twelve hours straight, hoping to drive myself to exhaustion, to silence the Lust that seemed to grow worse with every hour I was away from her. It was strange how the mate Pull worked. Yes, when I was with her, my whole being wanted to bite into her and drink from her luscious veins, but it was somewhat controllable, probably from the six years I had spent building up my discipline. The moment I left her side, Lust had overtaken me, and I was forced to command four valets to take me to the gym, where I had nearly driven each of the instructors to death.

My royal bloodline made me intrinsically stronger than most Vampires, and because the Lust was so wild in me, I didn't feel tired. I kept going, savagely beating each opponent, awaiting relief from the Pull which never arrived. I hadn't even changed from my tuxedo, still wearing the shirt and pants. Well, what was left of the shirt, it was ripped in several places.

I supposed putting my Gi on would keep my mind occupied for a few minutes while they find me a new opponent. There should have been thirty or more Vampires here, but word must have gotten out to stay away from my wrath.

Putting on the thick white cotton uniform was a small comfort, and I realised how stupid I had been. I could still smell her because her scent was still in my clothes and on my skin. Cursing myself, I threw my clothes into a locker and had a cold shower. 

I scrubbed at my skin, washing away her smell. I was furious at myself and that I had to do this. I thought I had built up the necessary discipline to control myself, but obviously not when it comes to her.

Still now, cold and occupied, I had not been able to lose my erection. It throbbed painfully and heavy against my stomach. I wished I could do what human men did in these situations. I had tried masturbation in the past, most Vampires had, and while amusing, it was about as effective as trying to stop a forest fire with a garden hose without the exchange of blood. I could employ the services of a female Vampire to ease my pain. There were some, widowed and mateless, who offered such repast. That had worked before I had met her.

I dismissed the idea, it would kill me to be with another female. I had not been with another since I found her six years ago. I had taken female human blood, and like with Darsh last night, they had climaxed, but I couldn't. Even if I pretended they were her, it would have felt like a betrayal.