Raspberry. His heart tasted like raspberry.
***
Rain pelted harshly against the window panes, and the distant sound of thunder clapped. Lightning flashed bringing light to the darkness of the manor. We faced each other in the hallway. I could feel whatever dormant spirits of those before watching us from within the dusty wallpapers-beyond the hollowed eyes of the paintings of ancestors long forgotten. Wax dripped down the candelabra he held, the flickering of the flames casting shadows along his face. His green eyes were darker.... We stood wordlessly staring at one another. A flash of lightning once more. His lips curled slowly, the shadows beneath his eyes holding me still.
***
"So lovely," he murmured against my skin. I felt cold and hot all at once. My mind whirled, my breaths came in shallow huffs. I clutched his shoulders tightly, my fingernails digging into his pale skin. My eyes focused on a speckle of tiny moles on his shoulder. Long gentle hands roamed along my hips, careful, calculated. He'd done this before. Of course he's done this before. Many times, in many beds probably. I gulped, feeling the heat tingling between our legs.
"You taste so lovely," plush lips against the goosebumped skin beneath my breasts. Wet, open-mouthed kisses grew from feather light to harsh. A slight tug of teeth biting down. Two pricks of needles joined by slurping. I closed my eyes tightly, whining at unshed tears, confused by what I felt not understanding how my body could want more.
I felt his nails elongate, gripping onto my hips tighter pushing himself deeper into me. Hands roamed higher, scratching between my ribs. The burn of his thumb dragged deep into my skin, pressing harder, deeper. He lifted his bloodied fingers to his lips. Our eyes met. Hunger, horror, lust.
"Like lemon and honey," he whispered. Diving down once again, another pierce inside me, my frantic heart stuttered, and I screamed out.
***
Dignified. He held himself in the guise of royalty. Hair perfectly tousled, suit tailored specifically to fit every inch of his body. The manor looked so cold from outside. But I felt comfortably warm. Ever the gentleman, he walked hands behind his back, eyes never wandering away, paying attention to everything that was said. How could someone look so beautiful yet be so dead? Enchanting, and pulling me in. I didn't feel hypnotized or persuaded in any way. Was this merely subconscious of him? Did he simply have that effect?
***
"My darling you don't know what you do to me," But I did. Of course I knew. The hunger that resided within him, that consumed him night and day as the creature he was. Demon. Night walker. Blood lust. I knew that he craved for my essence as one would crave lemonade on a hot summer's day. I knew that the sticky thick liquid he drank from the decanter in the library came from within the human flesh. I knew that each kittenish lick along my neck was what followed after little pin pricks of sharpened canines that made me whimper and whine. That made him moan and sigh.
I couldn't understand why. Why would he keep me after I became as hollow as him? The moment I had awoken among cold bloody sheets and wandered the halls to see him in the dimly lit library smoking a cigar in his father's seat. If his father could see him now, I naively wondered then. Before recounting that no, if our parents could see us now. A daughter deflowered in more ways than one. A son given into the carnal desires as those before him. A ritual as it was. As it had always been.
The moment he noticed me standing there in my slip, blood seeping through with every second, and the puff of smoke that left his lips. His stare was so nonchalant, as if what he had done was no different than taking a glass of water in the middle of the night.
