Just months before I start medical school in Boston, I decide to let loose for one night. A dark club, a loud band, strong drinks--and the attention of a dangerous-looking man who says he's in the city for only a week.
I know exactly what he is: a...
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I'm dimly aware that it's daytime. Is it even noon? It's a Sunday, I know that much. Normally I'd be out shopping with Kerri, or grabbing coffee, or studying. Today my world has shifted, as if I've stepped into a parallel universe. The darkness of the room and the warm glow of the fire makes it feel like nighttime. It's a huge change from my boring dorm, and the fact that I'm lying here, naked in a private library, is decadent and dirty.
But I'm not ashamed, possibly because Matteo's staring at me with something bordering on reverence. Although maybe I should be. I'm sure there are many people who would think less of me if they knew where I was, and what I was doing, with a man like Matteo.
He's trailing his fingers over my skin, causing flares of desire to surge in me, stoking the embers of need. I whimper when he circles my bellybutton, squirm when he brushes lightly over my pussy, shimmy my hips in his direction.
All this while he's wearing nothing but those black leather pants and a self-satisfied smirk.
"You think this is funny or something?" I ask in a mock, accusatory tone. "You're teasing me."
He stops touching me and taps his index finger on his lips. "Funny. Hmm. I find this a lot of things, but not funny."
His fingers find the inside of my thigh and I suck in a breath. No one's touched me there before, and while it's not precisely where I want him to stroke, it's making me wetter than I ever thought possible.
"Hasn't anyone ever teased you before, Evangeline?"
The truth, of course, is no. The guys I've been with have been either inept or aggressive, and often both. Which is why I'm still a virgin. If a guy can't get me as wet as I can get myself, why would I have sex with him? I open my mouth to explain this to Matteo but his hand is between my legs, tracing the seam of my sex.
I sigh my response. "No. No one's teased me."
His thumb is brushing my outer lips, so close to my clit. I'm practically humming with horniness, and if I weren't so frustrated I'd want to laugh about it.
"Maybe you should be eased more often." His voice is a low murmur, and again his gaze is leveled at my pussy. "Because the more I tease you, the wetter you seem to get."
"Imagine that," I say in a sarcastic tone.
He chuckles and dips a finger inside me, pausing to slowly stroke my clit. I shut my eyes so I can lose myself in the sensation, but that doesn't feel right either, because I want to keep looking at him. At his brutal beauty, at the way he's staring at me as if I captivate him.
I don't think I've ever captivated a man before. Sure, I've given them hard-ons and briefly enticed them enough to awkwardly beg for sex. But none have looked at me like Matteo is —like I'm both a priceless work of art and an object that he wants to defile in the most filthy way.
While his hand plays between my legs, he stretches on his side, next to me, so we're both prone on the rug.
I shift to face him, so I can kiss him, but he makes a tsk sound with his tongue.
"Shh. I'm not done here."
"I... what..." my voice dies in my throat when he increases the pressure while circling my clit. I'm pulsing and throbbing and practically quaking, I'm so close to an orgasm.
"You what, Evangeline? What? Are you going to let go?" His lips hover against my ear. "Give it to me."
He plunges two fingers inside me, then slowly withdraws them, skimming through my wetness and around my clit. He does this over and over, so practiced and expert that I wonder how he knows this is what truly turns me on.
And so, I let go. I dissolve against his fingers, my orgasm taking my breath away. But he's not done rubbing, and I pulse and orgasm again. I gasp aloud when I realize that he's trailing his tongue down my stomach, moving down my body so his mouth is on my clit.
I'm literally orgasming against his tongue now, grinding myself into his face and crying out, digging my nails into his scalp.
His tongue assaults my already throbbing clit, and he laps at my flesh, inspiring a strangled noise to build low in my throat. I can't believe how good this feels; there are truly no words. And the fact that he brought me to orgasm then decided to go down on me while I was still in the middle of it all?
Shocking.
He's now licking me fiercely, punctuating with small, gentle bites of my pussy, occasionally replacing his tongue with his fingers and pressing his mouth to my inner thigh.
Two thoughts hit me through the fog of my orgasm. The first is that I remember he's a vampire. Somehow that got lost during all the fingering and licking and orgasming.
The second is that vampires don't necessarily need the jugular to feed. They can also drink blood from a femoral artery, which is the major pathway that blood travels from the lower limbs to the heart. It's about two inches from my pussy, and it's exactly where Matteo is nibbling softly as he gives me yet another orgasm with his fingers.
"Fuck, you taste incredible," he mutters. "I want to drink you dry."
This, of course, gives me an idea. Which is pretty impressive considering I'm in a sex fog and my pussy's still quivering from the orgasms.
Our eyes meet and I manage a grin through my heavy breaths. "Will you do something that I really like?" I ask.
He licks my inner thigh. "Of course. What's that?"
"Will you bite me? Hard? Right here?" I tap on my inner thigh and he looks up at me, his eyes flashing a deep, intense scarlet.
His lips, which glisten with my juices, part. His four sharp fangs glint in the light of the fire.
