nearest trash can and puked up all of the peaches and hash browns I’d recently eaten. You were immediately at my side, rubbing my back and whispering soothing words.
“I’ll make sure you don’t take too much. You don’t have to worry.”
“I know… I just… I can’t tonight, okay? I’m sorry.”
“Have a seat.” You pulled a chair from the tiny desk and turned it around, then retrieved a wet washrag for my mouth and face. Dalvin watched us with a detached curiosity.
“It’s my first time,” I said to him. “I don’t have a lot of self-control.”
I thought my admission might freak him out, but he only nodded sympathetically.
“I’m going to feed,” you told me. “You don’t have to watch.”
I nodded, regaining my composure. Dalvin’s attention was still focused on me, but he leaned away when you approached him. He obviously didn’t trust you.
“You can relax now, Dalvin,” I said. “Henri will only take a little bit, and he’s very good about knowing when to stop.”
“Just enough,” you said as you climbed behind Dalvin and turned his head slightly, as if posing him. Dalvin swallowed, making his throat jog in a most appetizing way.
You reached around to unfasten the top few buttons of his shirt, then pulled it back to reveal his meaty shoulder. You closed your eyes and whispered a prayer in Latin. Then your lips drew back into a garish smile before you buried your teeth into his deltoid. With your powerful shoulders curled inward and the suctioning sounds against Dalvin’s flesh, watching you feed was hotter than I could have imagined. I pressed down on my erection, embarrassed by my lack of control, but I couldn’t stop myself from clutching, then massaging it, just to ease the uncomfortable pins-and-needles feeling.
Your head lifted, lips smeared with blood and irises threaded with gold. Our gazes locked, and I knew we were feeling the same fever and lust.
You licked the cut a few more times, then bit into your thumb and used some of your blood to seal Dalvin’s wound. “It helps with the healing,” you explained. I remembered this was supposed to be a lesson and not live-action porn.
With my erection still raging, I unscrewed the cap from the plastic bottle and offered it to Dalvin. “Drink this,” I instructed. I was about to get you a washrag, but you’d already tidied up with one of your burgundy handkerchiefs.
“I’m hungry,” I said, unable to keep the whine out of my voice. My appetite was back full-force. You moved to the other single bed and sat down on the edge of it, then pointed to the space between your spread thighs.
“Come here.”
I went down to my knees and gazed up at you. Saliva pooled under my tongue, and I swallowed it down. You were so beautiful with your long hair and strong features. A body worthy of worship with so much strength and raw power that you kept under strict control. Everywhere I was weak, you were strong. The idea that I might be able to bend your will to my own seemed laughable. What would it take to make you lose control?
You presented me with your arm, and it didn’t take long for me to understand your meaning. I stared longingly at your thick, branching veins until they blurred into one cardinal direction.
“Are you sure?” I couldn’t look away.
“I just fed. I’m strong. And I’ll heal quickly.”
“What was that prayer you said?”
“Redemptio per sanguinem.”
Redemption through the blood.
You placed your hand gently at the base of my skull and guided my mouth to your skin like Holy Communion. One deep breath, and my lips pulled back into a snarl as my teeth stabbed into your flesh. I wasn’t gentle, yet you didn’t even flinch. You pumped your fist. Blood surged into my mouth and coated my tongue, warm and thick and satisfying, quenching my thirst better than Sugar Rush on a hot summer day. The bagged blood I’d been fed my whole life was shit compared to this. I wanted to savor the taste even as I was gulping it down. More and more and more…
Your firm hand squeezed my cheeks, breaking the suction and popping me off your skin. I slowly opened my eyes and stared up at you, lost in a haze of bloodlust. My hands had worked their way into my pants, and I was stroking myself. If I’d been in my right mind, I might have been embarrassed, but as it was, I had very little control.
“It’s fine,”