The Pull

Chapter 10 (Henry)

Henry

Drawing in ragged breaths, I steadied myself and sat on the sofa waiting for my Little Fawn to come downstairs. The sight of her naked body in the mirror played on an unrelenting loop in my mind. Oh, Lilith, she was perfection with her pert breasts, pinkish little nipples, her generous hips and narrow waist. It was fortuitous I had only been able to see her bare chest because I did not doubt that if I saw her enticing sex, nothing short of Lilith herself would have stopped me from taking her.

She had bare feet, a sweater but no bra and yoga pants which showed her shapely thighs nicely. I inhaled sharply as I noticed she had ditched the thigh armour. Her breasts bounced slightly, provocatively, as she carefully made her way down the stairs. Her nipples were hard from the chill in the evening air and poked against her thin sweater. Her hair was still up in a messy bun like it had been in the shower, and I longed to see her hair fanned out on a pillow as I took her.

She smelled delicious. The scent of her skin layered beneath her fruity soap made my mouth water, my fangs descended and my Lust rose. I was still quite full from the three men I fed on last night, but I may need to sneak away and feed again early in the morning or first thing tomorrow night. I will probably have to try to sleep in the day tomorrow. I don't need to sleep, but it is enjoyable and helps keep my mind clear.

"I have some chicken and a few steaks. What would you like to eat?" My Little Fawn asked.

Biting back my desire to remind her that I only wanted to drink and from her, I said I'd prefer the steaks. I shadowed her around the kitchen, not wanting to be more than an arms reach away from her. The memory of the Pull was still fresh in my mind, and the urges had not completely abated. 

Busying herself about the kitchen, she kept turning from here to there, nearly bumping into me as she gathered her supplies. If I hadn't had a Vampires enhanced reflexes, she would have crashed into me several times. Eventually, she got angry at my loitering.

"Either help me or go and sit and wait," she said, aiming the point of a knife at my chest.

Taken aback by her demand, I sat at the kitchen island. "I don't know how to cook," I admitted. I never had to, I always had servants to do it for me, or I usually stayed with other royal families when I was away. Cooking had never come up.

"How old are you?" She asked narrowing her eyes.

"180 years."

"And you've never cooked? Ever?"

I shook my head. "I've never needed to."

She looked puzzled then remembered who I was. "Right, prince," she said flatly.

I shrugged, a little offended by her tone. "When we mate, you will be a princess, you know. Queen one day," I reminded her pointedly. She flinched. I wondered which part particularly displeased her, the mating or the titles.

"Want to learn to cook?" She asked, forcing a smile.

"Sure," I said without much enthusiasm. 

"Okay," she genuinely grinned then, and for the first time, I felt like she smiled at me with joy in her heart. 

We made a greek salad together, standing side by side at the kitchen bench. She showed me how to cut the cucumber, the red onion, the fetta, how to tear the cos lettuce and wash it and then we added the olives and olive oil and lemon.

Despite my earlier lack of interest, I found it enjoyable to do something as mundane as preparing a meal. It gave me a chance to watch my Little Fawn without her becoming self-conscious. I observed her mannerisms, the way her lips pursed when she tried to hold back a smile, how she played with her earlobe when she was impatient and the way her dainty fingers seemed to caress the handle of the knife as she chopped. I found myself distracted several times, lost in her subtle gestures. She was very appealing when she wasn't angry and pointing knives at me. Although, there was something precious about her useless threats.