repeats as if in a trance.
I lean down and capture her lips, softly at first, my tongue tracing the sweet little cupid’s bow, and then her lips part, and I dip into the velvety softness and taste her. She is exquisite. Her hands slide up my chest to wrap around my neck, and she clings to me. She is the most innocent and sweet submissive I’ve ever encountered, and I can’t get enough of her.
Slowly, I draw the zipper down on her gown. I know she has to have made the creation herself, as it fits her too perfectly for it not to have been. I also know that she is a seamstress, as we have spoken of it before, after she finished some project or other. So, knowing that, I take care as I remove it from her delicate skin. I lift her out of the skirt, which practically stands up on its own, and lay her on the bed in only her mask, strappy heels, panties and bra.
“Stay, my sweet,” I say, gazing into her eyes deeply, hypnotizing her just enough to do as I direct. It doesn’t take much.
I pick up her dress and lay it over the back of a chair and then remove my shoes, mask, and then my own clothes, setting them neatly upon the chair as well. Her eyes never leave me. I join her on the bed, hovering over her, our gazes locking.
I kiss her, and she arches up into me. Sliding my hand down her body, I draw her leg up by my hip, my cock pressing into the silk of her panties. I tilt her head, trailing kisses down her neck to her breasts, and then her stomach. Gripping her panties in my teeth, I slide them down her gorgeous legs.
Being with her like this is like unwrapping a present I’ve waited a century to get. She is everything I could ask for. Her scent drives me crazy and I can’t wait to taste her—not just her blood, but her. I move back up her body and gaze into her eyes; she is so easily susceptible to my gift of persuasion. I would never ask her to do something she is unwilling to do, so I ask her now. “Do you want me, Clarabelle? Do you want to give in to this passion between us?”
She nods, her brown eyes shining through her mask. “Yes… Aaron.” She says my name hesitantly, as if she is unsure how I’ll react.
“I love hearing my name on your sweet lips,” I assure her. “I want to hear you scream my name as I make you come,” I add, my voice going husky as I continue to gaze into her eyes.
“Yes, Aaron.” Her smile is soft and her voice breathy, but more sure this time.
I kiss her again, my fingers finding her nipple as I shove the cup of her satin bra down. She gasps and I take advantage of it, swirling my tongue against hers. I draw her hands up and press them to the bars of the headboard. “Keep them here,” I say, using just the tiniest bit of my persuasion to keep her in the hypnotized state of a trance. I want her real reactions, but I also want to be able to taste her blood without her freaking out when she sees my fangs.
I reach behind her and unhook her bra, leaving her in nothing but her heels and mask. I skim down her body and run my tongue over her clit, drawing a gasp from her as she arches her back, but her hands stay locked on the bar above her head. She peers down at me through her lashes as I slowly torture her until she is writhing beneath me.
“Please, Aaron, please,” she murmurs, pressing her hips up.
I hold her hips and tease her some more with my tongue, and then she explodes, crying out my name. Grinning, I move up and plunge my cock into her. She is warm and tight, and I fill her perfectly. It is as though she was made just for me. I put a hand around the back of her neck, my thumb resting on her throat as I thrust into her. I squeeze just the tiniest bit, not wanting to hurt her, but enough to make her gasp and open her eyes.
“Look at me, my sweet,” I order. I drag my hand down her body and draw her legs up, hooking them