FicWad

2

Beep. Beep. Beep. I shut my eyes tight. Beep. Beep. Beep. I groaned and opened an eye. 5:30 AM, the blue light of my clock illuminated the still, dark room. Another groan left my lips as I slid out of my warm bed and into the cold of my room. I turned my alarm off and picked my tablet up off of my dresser and pulled up my daily work out. Half an hour of Pilates later and I was in the shower.
It wasn’t until I was a little more awake and alone with my thoughts that my mind wandered back to Aleksi. Seven. It sounded like an order, and that tickled something deep inside of me. Just thinking of it made me press my thighs together as the hot water cascaded down my body. I could imagine him kissing down my stomach, dragging his fangs teasingly over my trembling flesh. My hand slid that path I could see in my head, and my fingers did the work that I imagined his tongue doing. Shuddering and panting against the ancient tile I whispered his name. I envisioned his hands curling around my bottom, locking my hips in place as he teased me. His tongue exploring me aggressively between nips of those teeth on my all too tender flesh.
A loud moan broke my lips as my body tensed with that white hot pleasure. I raised en pointe as my hips pressed forward towards the ceiling and that imagined mouth. You’re going to slip and die. They’re going to find you dead in the shower with your hands on your snatch. I pulled my hands away from my body as I panted against the wall. My knees were shaking as my body still hummed. I tapped my fingers against the tile and then there was a loud knock on the door.
“Need a minute” I yelled. I quickly showered and wrapped my bathrobe around me. The plush terry cloth felt freezing against my heated skin.
Wet footsteps trailed me across the old wood floor from the bathroom to the door. The pounding resumed. I knew that knock very well, it was Kendra. Still I took a few deep breaths trying to calm my rapidly heaving chest. When my breathing had gone back to normal I opened the door.
“You’re running late,” Kendra noted as she stepped in.
“I know. Trust me, I’m very aware of this.” I turned from her and ran back to my bedroom.
“I start rehearsal with Aleksi today,” she called from the kitchen. I could hear her turning on the keurig and spinning my carousel of coffees. Say something nice. Don’t be jealous.
“Really? That’s great”
“From what I’ve seen so far, this stuff is pretty racy. It’ll be nice to do something contemporary for a change. It’ll be a challenge but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to have that body of his against mine,” she giggled. I just bet you are. I stilled as I pulled on my pinstriped pencil skirt. I actually stayed half bent over for a handful of breaths.
“What about Dmitri?” I inquired standing to zip up my skirt.
“Dmitri…” she trailed off. I pulled my black ribbed turtleneck on while she huffed and sighed trying to come up with words to say. “Dmitri…” She trailed off again. “He doesn’t count. He’s fucking at least three other girls in the Company. And Aleksi is just mind blowing. Have you seen him dance?”
“Yes, I saw him after Swan Lake. I don’t even know how to describe it.”
“I wanted to say sorry about Garrett. I really didn’t invite him. It’s hard to believe he’s the same Garrett I met at my Julliard audition.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” I called before I turned on the blow dryer. The fifteen minutes of white noise was welcome. “Are you going to be late for rehearsal?”
“No, they don’t want me there until ten. So what happened with you and Aleksi last night?” I blinked as that sentence reached my ears. I went back to wrapping my hair in the clamshell curlers.
“Nothing really. He came to see if I was alright, and then he… asked me to meet him at seven tonight.” Asked? More like demanded.
“Oh?” I could practically hear her eyebrows raise in shock. ”Like on a date?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
I stepped out of my bedroom with the curlers still in my hair. On the island in the kitchen Kendra had a cup of coffee waiting for me as she sipped tea. I sipped the coffee and sighed softly.
“If you had been there you’d be just as confused as I am.”
“I’m not going to acquiesce him to you just yet.” She smirked at me and I just stared. Be nice she’s your friend.
“Ken, I would expect nothing less.” I forced myself to smile at her as I peeked up from my coffee.
“Well then, let the games begin.” You just lost him, Autumn. He’s better suited for her.
“Good luck.” I offered her a smile before I slipped out of the chair and headed back to the bedroom removing the curlers from my hair. I shook out my hair and fanned my fingers through the curls before spritzing with hair spray.
“I bet I can get him to cancel,” Kendra teased from the other side of the door. My jaw tightened and I frowned. I started applying my make-up. “It only makes sense that I’d get him first. I had Garrett first, too. Maybe you should try for Dmitri? He’d want you to lose twenty pounds first but I’ve broken him in for you.” I stared in the mirror as Kendra continued to speak, but I turned her out. She’s just coping with insecurity. I double checked my lipstick in the mirror and smoothed my hair. And so are you.
I grabbed my coat off of my coat rack and tied the belt around my waist before slipping into my favorite pair of knee-high black boots. We left my apartment in silence and took our respective trains to opposite sides of the city. She went to the theatre and I went to the University. Oddly enough, I wasn’t late.

Six-forty-five found me slipping into rehearsal room B at the theatre. Rehearsal was still in session. That remixed song from before played as Aleksi danced with Kendra. The addition of a partner made what seemed suggestive before borderline obscene. Their bodies were always inches from one another as they twirled, flowing from movement to movement. Even I could pick out the difference between a vampire and human dancer. Compared to Aleksi Kendra seemed almost clumsy.
“That’s all wrong!” the music stopped. “I get it you want to fuck him, but Freda doesn’t want him,” a vampire with curly blonde hair and a clip board raged. “Freda is trying to resist him. I sensed no struggle in you. You’re not supposed to be seducing him, he is supposed to seduce you to no avail,” the blonde huffed out. Aleksi’s eyes fell on me and I could feel the heat of his gaze. “I know Aleksi is very good at it, but try to not let your cunt rule you while you’re dancing.” My eyes darted to Kendra, she looked like she was about to cry. “Or, do I need to recast your part, Lovely Kendra?”
“No, Tristan. I’ll try harder,” she answered almost mechanically.
“Good. That’s all I ask, now you can leave. I expect to see you Monday; bright eyed, bushy tailed and at least ten percent less shitty.” That blonde vampire smirked as Kendra ran out of the room. She didn’t even look up to see me. No, she was far too focused on trying not to cry.
“I think she broke or sprained something,” Aleksi commented dryly.
“Ah, to be human again and so fragile,” Tristan sighed out rolling his eyes.
“Wasn’t that the point of having a human dancer?”
“That and the publicity. Humans are barbarous, they love to watch a lone lamb in a cage full of starving lions. The lion salivating as it roars and circles in on unknowing prey. It’s practically pornographic to them. I was tempted to cast that delicious little morsel Garrett in the part… but I get a distinct whiff of wet dog from him.” Tristan sucked his teeth and I turned to leave, my hand resting on the door. “We know you’re there poppet. There is no hiding that candy red pulse of yours from us. That quickened breath. I could write sonnets about that heartbeat,” Tristan purred out. I could see him holding the clip board and practically swooning with a smirk across his small lips. Aleksi turned to Tristan abruptly. There was a moment of utter still silence, and I turned back to them.
Their eyes were locked on one another as something passed between them. Unspoken threats filled the empty space separating them. I could see the anger flash behind both of their eyes. It made me uneasy, but still I lingered. Why? I haven’t the slightest clue why I didn’t leave. No, I was compelled to stay. I was the lamb in the cage with the salivating lions.
“It was a pleasure, Ophelia,” Tristan snickered heading for the door. A few moments passed.
“M-m… my name is Autumn,” I finally corrected him when he reached the door.
“But you are Ophelia, my dear. Or at least that’s what you will be. You see Hamlet is a sullen, selfish prick.” His lips curl into a smile and he turns back to look at us, flashing a bright smile. “I hope you both have a lovely evening. I’m off to see Gertrude. I’ll give her your love Hamlet.” With that simple sentiment he disappears into the hall leaving me alone with Aleksi. You should leave. Make up an excuse and leave. This was a mistake.
The room felt dark and foreboding as we stood in silence. My hands smoothed my skirt, as I took a slow breath. My mind raced back to the shower this morning as we stood there alone in the empty rehearsal space. Our reflections revealed everything. I could see the tension in his shoulders as those smoldering eyes focused on me. Watching him was like watching a massive cat that desperately wanted to pounce an object just out of reach.
“And there you are. Frozen again as your mind considers the situation and the proper thing to do,” Aleksi’s voice slithered out almost a whisper. With that supple, sensual sound my skin broke out in gooseflesh. He licked his lips, “You’re shivering.” Leave. I pulled my coat tighter around me, my fingers trail up to smooth over the line of my bangs.
“It’s…” I almost said it’s cold, but I stopped myself. It wasn’t cold in the studio. If you worried so much about the proper thing to do you wouldn’t be here.
“Come closer.” Don’t. I hesitated with furrowed brows. The request was so simple. Come closer, it was so benign and yet I found myself torn. Leave. Ignoring the voice in my head I took a step closer to him. My heels sounding off of the wood floor made every step seem heavy and blaring. Ophelia goes mad and kills herself. I continued to walk to him. Hamlet neglects her, and denounces her a whore. My heart was high in my chest as he held up his hand for me to stop about half way to him. I stopped, pausing mid step with a swallow. He’s a cat toying with his food. “Before you come any closer I feel I should warn you, I have not fed yet.” See!
“O-oh. Should… should I go?” My eyes went to the door for a moment, and my hands went to their nervous preening. My fingers rested on the simple strand of pearls at my throat.
“Do you want to go?” Yes! My lips parted at his question and I tilted my head from side to side.
“I…” Yes, you want to go. I shook my head. “If you would prefer it. I wouldn’t want to… intrude.” My eyes raised to his and that cerulean was nuclear. His gaze was intense enough to make me quiver. I pressed my knees together and that smile on his lips widened triumphantly.
“It would please me immensely if you stayed, but I should warn you.”
“Warn me?”
He nodded. “Mhm. Though the media gets a great deal of it wrong, vampires are dangerous to be around. We are vicious, territorial, possessive creatures.” He turned from me and started walking for the door. “Essentially we are human amplified.”
“Why haven’t you fed?” His footsteps paused at my question. He turned and stared at me with a smirk.
“Because as much as you crave control, I crave to control. My body, my actions, those around me. I’m going to change, rehearsal ran late. Kendra…” He trailed off and he became unreadable. See she’s won already. I fought the urge to pout, biting my bottom lip. Stop that, you’re being unladylike enough as is by being here.
“She is a beautiful dancer,” I offered smoothing my coat and straightening my lapels.
“Yes, amongst a myriad of other things.” He sighed, “This is the time for second thoughts. If you are unsure about being with me tonight, you may leave. I can well imagine how daunting it is to find oneself the object of a vampire’s desires.” Desires? Something inside me perked up with that admission from his lips. My mind wandered to my little fantasy in the shower and I let out a shaky breath as he left.

With the voice inside my head momentarily quieted by his admission of desire I was free to pace the rehearsal space. I slipped out of my boots and watched myself in the mirror. Shedding my coat I set it on top of the forgotten black grand piano and brushed my fingers over the nearby CD player. I pressed play and that song came back on. With a breath I raised en point and aped the routine I had seen Kendra and Aleksi attempting. It had been years since I danced, and it showed. I kept spying my form in the mirrors, sloppy would have been an understatement. You quit for a reason. I stilled and stared at myself in the mirror with a swallow.
Seated by the piano was Aleksi in a black tank top and dark jeans. In his lap under his folded hands was a black leather jacket. The dark colors brought out the pallor of his skin and the azure of his eyes. That long dark hair was still in its loose, almost unraveled bun. The gathered hair rested just under his jaw with the thin trail of the end of his pony tail dusting his shoulders. I didn’t have adjectives in my vocabulary to describe how beautiful he looked sitting there.
Our gazes locked in the mirror and the smile spread across his lips granting me a flash of those white fangs. But oh how those eyes of his were almost navy with darkened lust. My eyes trailed him as he stood and walked over the heavy metal door. He twisted the deadbolt, and the click of the lock latching almost echoed over the song. No escape now. Something low in my body twisted.
“You dance beautifully,” He whispered as he approached me. Liar.
My pulse was at my throat again, and breathing quickened to breathy sighs. He wasn’t even touching me and I was already seconds from melting. Whore. That word echoed in my mind as he stood inched from me. I could smell the scent of his cologne, it was something spicy and sweet.
“Th-thank you. Though, I am certain most would disagree,” I confessed as I felt my cheeks grow hot with blush.
“Dancing beautifully is not all form and technique. It is also passion, and… the ability to offer yourself up to the music. To surrender yourself.” His lips twitched, “You are innately gifted in that respect, Autumn.”
“How does one who cherishes being in control surrender oneself?” I cocked my head to the side. My voice only held a slight warble. He leaned in and those amazing eyes of his slid to the side.
“It’s a secret,” he whispered into my ear. The chill of his breath on my neck made me tremble.
“I…” I stuttered out followed by a soft, shaky sigh.
“Shhh,” He purred softly to me. Those lips of his lowered to my throat and brushed my frantic pulse. My eyes rolled back in my head and a soft moan broke my lips. Slut. My eyes went wide and my stomach twisted. I was mortified.
“I’m… Oh god. I’m sorry,” I stammered stepping back from him. I met him twice before this, and both times he had said a handful of words to me. What the hell was I doing? You should have left. My hands went to cover my face.
“What do you have to be sorry for? Is it a crime to enjoy yourself?” His eyes keened in displeasure and my brows furrowed as my hands fell away.
“I barely know you…”
“You know my name. You know my vocation, and you know what I am.” He stepped back from me, and glided over to the piano fetching my coat and boots.
“I’m sorry, I… I don’t know what to say. Please don’t be mad,” I pleaded with him. I was unsure why I felt the need to beg but it felt like I should. Because you’re desperate for him.
“Oh, lovely girl, I’m not mad.” Though his words seemed amicable and the perfect thing to say there was something else there. Those words were pregnant with some unspoken dark whisperings as he held my coat and boots out to me. I took my boots from him and quickly pulled them on. He helped me with my coat like a gentlemen. “We’ll go to my place. You will drink good wine and I will comply with all of the pleasantries of the traditional first date.” Though he smiled, I could still sense a thread of disappointment or disapproval which made me slightly apprehensive.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your plans I just…” I trailed off as we neared the door. His smile widened and he leaned down to place a kiss upon my forehead. His lips were freezing, the cool flesh made me quiver and my knees grow weak.
“No need to explain, Autumn. Those apologetic words speak volumes.” He unlocked the door. “This evening will be an exercise in control— for the both of us,” His smile sweetened. I shivered again and this time it had nothing to do with his flesh.
“So you intend to get me drunk and take advantage of me?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t keep the sadness from reaching my voice. That sadness only seemed to sweeten his smile.

He drove us from the Theatre in an old Mercedes convertible with a shiny new paint job. There was no music, just the hum of the engine and the scent of him. It was intoxicating being so close to him. The prolonged exposure even shut up that bitchy little voice in my head—that was until we pulled up at what I could only guess was his apartment building.
The building was ultra-modern and the exterior was mostly concrete and black glass. Part of me couldn’t help but to wonder if it was a building where all the vampires lived as we pulled into the underground parking garage and passed row after row of expensive new cars. As Aleksi eased into his parking spot his car seemed out of place. He got out and crossed around to open my door, and I let him.
“I don’t think the subway runs this far out,” I commented idly breaking our silence as he closed the door behind me. His hand rested on the small of my back as he led me to the elevator.
“It doesn’t, but I will see that you get home.”
“I thought vampires couldn’t go out in the sunlight.” The moment the words left my lips I covered my face. Mightily presumptuous aren’t you? The elevator dinged.
“We can, we simply have to be covered,” he answered as he ushered me into that elevator with his hand still at the small of my back. “Though… I would think such a thing a nonissue unless you expect to stay the night.” The elevator dinged again and he ushered me off. That simple light touch was slowly driving me mad. We walked down the hall and it took a handful of moments to realize there were no other doors just dark wood floors and white walls filled with intricate art deco designs in silver.
“Is this whole floor yours?”
“Yes.” He glanced down at me for a moment.
“So this is your home?” I tilted my head to the side.
“Mhm, my sire holds dominion over most of the North West.”
“I thought the company was based out of New York and Paris?”
“It is, I don’t spend as much time here as I’d like.”
“Is Gertrude your sire?”—again, you sound like an idiot—“Well… I know her real name isn’t Gertrude. I just mean the Gertrude Tristan referred to,” I stammered as he unlocked the heavy dark wood door.
“Yes, Elizabeta is my sire. And yes, our relationship is just as strained as Hamlet and Gertrude’s.”
The other side of the door was a massive apartment, which I had expected since it was the only one on the floor. His living room could have fit my entire apartment inside of it. Everything was all clean modern lines and done in contrast, white and black. A large couch had an entire corner of the room, as did a television that took up a good portion of the wall. Though the place was spotless there was dust on the television remote, he didn’t watch television. Connected to the living room was the kitchen which surprised me. I didn’t think a vampire would need a kitchen—let alone one with such fancy appliances.
He took my coat while I oogled the tastefully decorated living space. I couldn’t help to note it looked like a hotel room more than a home. Off of the living room/ kitchen was what appeared to be a dance room, complete with mirrors and a barre on the wall. The room looked lived in and surprisingly messy. The center seemed to be clear but around the walls were piles of pointe shoes, and ballet slippers in various states of decay.
“Pointe shoes?” I cocked my head to the side and he snickered as he returned from tucking my coat away.
“Some choreographers—like Tristan—enjoy pushing limits. I’m the only male in our company that will go en pointe. It is still fairly new to me.”
“Are you going en pointe for this production?”
“No, but if Elizabeta insists we stay—which she might, she kept us here for half of the eighties— I will for La Belle Morte.” He was unreadable, he spoke like he was rattling off inconsequential facts. Part of me was wounded, I wanted him to want to stay. “Would you like a drink?”
“Yes, please. Why is your relationship with your sire strained?”
“It’s a very complex matter. I could explain it but it would take all night I’m afraid”
“Oh...” I trailed off. I stepped into the Living room and walked towards the kitchen. He was jacketless so I could watch all of the muscles in his arms flex as he uncorked the wine bottle and poured me a glass. “How long have you been a vampire?”
“What a curious phrasing,” he snickered as he approached me with the glass. The wine was red, being unfamiliar with red wine all I could do was note that its color was so very close to blood. He offered me the glass and I took it. He pursed his lips for a moment, “One hundred and Thirty-Eight years.”
“How old were you?”
“Twenty-three.” I laughed and he cocked his head to the side curiously, “Such a sweet and abrupt sound,” left his lips in a sensuous purr which practically caressed itself over my body. My toes curled again, and it took a moment to regain composure.
“I’m older than you are,” I finally managed to eke out, my lips lingering on the wine glass. That’s what you choose to say to him?
“In some way I suppose. You are physically more matured than I am.”
“I’m not sure I like that phrasing though,” I snickered as I sipped my wine. He smirked at me and sat on that large white couch sinking into the cushion. His skin was as white as the bleached leather he sat against, the contrast was startling. He reached his hand and patted the pillow beside him and I took the seat without a single word from his lips. “When did you start dancing?”
“When I was old enough to walk. I was raised in the orphanage the Bolshoi grew out of.”
“Oh… do you remember your parents?” I took another sip of my wine, and noted that I had somehow drained half of the glass already. I reached to set the glass down, but there was something in Aleksi’s eyes that stilled me. Instead I took another sip of the wine. He is trying to get you drunk.
“Not really, I remember my mother some. She had a very sweet voice, and very long, very blonde hair. My father… I’m not even certain my mother knew who he was. My mother was a French whore that some Russian noble kept until she turned up pregnant. But I remember my mother singing to me in French. She was having a hard time of things, she didn’t speak Russian. Rather than watch me starve to death she took me to the orphanage—I was three I think.”
“Were you in the first production of Swan Lake?” The moment Swan Lake left my lips he shifted uncomfortably.
“I would rather not discuss Maddox, Tchaikovsky, how I was turned or Swan Lake. I am very forth coming about my past, but those topics are off limits.” He tilted his head to the side as he watched me sip my wine again. “What about you, what is your surname?”
“Darling,” I couldn’t help but to smile when I said it. The wine was starting to affect me I could feel the warmth radiating through me. I was suddenly a bit flushed, and somewhat giggly.
“Autumn Darling,” he purred my name like a happy cat. His cerulean gaze darted back to the glass and I down the last of the wine as if on cue. “Your parents must have a sense of humor.”
“Oh, they do. I was very close to having my middle name as my first name. I would have been Sadie Autumn Darling, or S.A.D. It was something my mother found uproariously hilarious and my father caught just in time. What’s your surname?”
“Mikhailovich I guess. It’s a patronym which is different, kind of like a middle name. It’s usually the father’s name in Russia, but given my fatherless status, it was the name of the priest who baptized me. I don’t technically have a surname.” He plucked the glass from my fingers and set it on the table. His fingers made me shiver again. “Why did you quit dance?”
“I…” my cheeks flushed and I smoothed my skirt and crossed my ankles. “I had the unfortunate luck of… developing early. The academy I was in had a habit of dismissing girls once they lost the desired shape. I was fourteen and I wore a D cup, so they kicked me out. They said officially it was because I had technique issues.”
“Well I see absolutely nothing wrong with your shape, Autumn Darling.” His lips curled, and a blush took my cheeks. His fingers slid from his thigh to inches from my own.
“Thank you,” I breathed with a shaky little breath.
“You are most welcome. Did you grow up with Kendra, and… the other dancer I saw you with?”
“No, but they did. I met Leslie when I was seventeen, we both had auditions at Julliard the same week. She was there for dance and I was there for Cello.” I laughed a bit, “I am actually the only one out of the three of us who got in.”
“Impressive, you must be very talented.” I blushed and shrugged. “Are you a cellist then?”
“No. It’s weird. Leslie and I went for coffee the day after my audition. Our friendship was very new but I didn’t have anyone else to talk to. I didn’t want to be a cellist. I only did it because my parents were very insistent upon it. We had a conversation that lasted for six hours, and in the end I decided to quit. The week after I got back I received the acceptance letter—not only did I get accepted but also a full scholarship. I hid it from my parents and told them I didn’t get in. With Julliard no longer an option I was free to pursue my passion for literature.”
“Impressive, few people read anymore—let alone appreciate the written word. So… what is it that you do?” I jumped as he spoke, those fingers of his had found their way to my hand. His finger was like an icicle as it traced over my index finger.
“I am a Graduate Assistant for the English department at U of F. I’m also in the accelerated Ph.D program. If I survive I will have my Ph.D in Eighteenth Century Lit—which many think is the most boring topic you could focus on.”
“Do you think it’s boring?”
“No, I find it fascinating.”
“Which authors?”
“Wilmot, de Sade, Austin…Swift.” You started with the consummate Libertine and the father of sadism—he’s going to think you’re a slut. I blushed heavily. His finger never stopped tracing over mine. The constant touching kept me on the edge of my seat.
“Most people would have started with Austin,” he stopped stroking my finger and moved his hand back to his thigh. He’s not interested. I pursed my lips and smoothed my hands over my skirt and crossed my ankles. “Why didn’t you? Why de Sade?” He arched a brow. He shifted on the couch. I watched in my periphery as he turned to face me.
“I’m interested in sexualit—“ I stopped myself and bit my bottom lip. Stop it, you already seem easy enough no need to add to it. I released my lip and trailed my fingers over my necklace, trading one nervous tick for another. “I’m interested in exploring…” I trailed off and glanced up at him. He was statue still, on his face was a pleasant smile but there was no insight there. He also didn’t attempt to sooth me and let me know it was okay. He’s enjoying watching you twist. I took a deep breath, “I’m interested in the preoccupation with sexuality in literature during the century. Supposedly as the century moved on there was a distancing from the life of the libertine and a focus on morals. I don’t see it that way, even Austin’s work focuses on sexuality.”
“What do you think of de Sade’s work?”
“I think it was about pushing boundaries, for that I have an appreciation for it. Other than that…” I trailed off and went full on Lit student mode. “You have to have respect for his ability to push the envelope of acceptability. But as a modern reader, I cannot get passed the ages of the characters involved to find the erotic quality of it.” He nodded slowly. “I did read somewhere that 120 days of Sodom was written after he actually hosted the Vampire Council for 120 days. One of the professors at the University has theory that de Sade was a vampire. He says it explains away the constant theme of extreme violence mixed with his eroticism, because its common place amongst vam—” I stopped myself but the damage was done. He turned from me. Snatching the wine glass off of the coffee table he stood and walked to the kitchen. I watched him as he poured another glass of wine. He then opened the fridge and set a glass canister on the counter which was obviously filled with blood.
Silence filled the room as he fetched another wine glass. I shifted uneasily as I watched him fill that glass with blood. I could actually feel myself frown. Disappointed? Drawing a slow shaky breath I shook my head and forced a soft smile on my lips.
“Is that what you believe?” I jumped at the break in the silence.
“I’m sorry… I… what do you mean?”
“Do you believe that all vampires engage in acts of extreme violence for sexual gratification?” He inquired, somehow keeping his voice admirably passive. I didn’t know how to answer. Yes, you do. Which is why you’re an idiot for coming here.
After speaking he headed back to the couch with his blood and my wine. However, even after he took his place beside me he didn’t give me the wine glass. He didn’t even set it on the coffee table. He did set his glass down, my gaze went to the dark red, opaque liquid. My mind couldn’t help but to wonder how he came by that canister of blood. The silence returned as he held the glass hostage almost. He wasn’t going to say or do anything until I answered him. My fingers nervously ran back through my hair and then took to preening as usual. I honestly didn’t know what I felt.
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t. My only exposure to vampires before this… has been from the sex ed discussions we had in high school—we spent a week on the dangers of the vampire—and from what I’ve seen on the news.” I wet my lips and shook my head with a bit of nervous laughter. “I suppose I don’t want to believe it.” My gaze nervously flitted up to meet his. He had turned back to face me. He held the glass out to me and I took it. My gaze danced between the two glasses. In literature wine and blood are often compared but in reality next to each other they don’t look a thing alike. Blood has a certain tension to it that wine just doesn’t have, and then there’s the color. Wine has a slight purplish hue that blood lacks.
“There is some truth to it. I won’t sit here and lie to you. There is a certain satisfaction we feel when we hear that first gasp as we break the skin with our teeth. So we all delight in the pain of mortals to some degree,” he purred as he leaned forward a bit.
“And what is the degree that you delight in it? Are you a de Sade?” I inquired before bringing the wine glass to my lips for a small sip. He leaned his head to the side for a moment, that graceful neck of his stretching long. Those vibrant eyes fixed on me for a moment before he took a short breath to speak.
“No, I could never do most of what de Sade writes. But I do have certain… appetites which lean to that direction on occasion.” He smiled wistfully. Those lovely eyes of his darkened to all the way to midnight blue—the reflection of the hanging pendant lights made his eyes resemble the night sky.
“O-oh,” I breathed still enraptured by those eyes of his. I had an idea of what he was saying, I wasn’t stupid and I had the internet. The thought of it however—of Aleksi tying me up and having his way with me—made my body quake. He likes to be in control… and he told me I want others to control me. My face flushed hot and I took another sip of wine.
That glass of blood still sat on the coffee table untouched. That dark gaze of his was fixated on me. His body was ice to the touch and his skin bloodless, yet that stare held a heat that was all mine. Clearly his control was impeccable. I swallowed and preened again, my chest practically heaving with a sigh. However it was his turn to swallow as he reached out and smoothed some of my hair behind my ear.
“I have a confession to make,” he murmured with a lazy smile spreading across his lips. I went to take another sip of wine and found my glass empty. You’re drunk, and he knows it. He can smell it on you. “The moment I saw you in the theatre watching Swan Lake I felt drawn to you. As I watched you carefully manage your mannerisms, how your legs were crossed, how far you parted your lips…”he trailed off and wet his lips. “I wanted you more than I have desired anything in a very long time. And when you snuck in and watched me rehearse—I could hear your heartbeat rise, your breath quicken, and smell your scent—it only made it so much worse. I want to possess you utterly, Autumn Darling.” He leaned forward, quicker than I could comprehend his lips were less than an inch from mine. “I want to watch you unravel,” he breathed into my mouth with his frosty breath before he kissed me. I was frozen for a moment, and even that bitchy little Miss Manners in my head was silent as his mouth ate at mine. The kiss was almost desperate—like he was trying to devour my very soul. It took a handful of moments for the shock of what he said to me to wear off, but when it did I reciprocated the kiss.
We made out like teenagers, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths. As each moment passed however, his mannerisms changed. He became more and more forceful. By the time he broke the kiss I swore I’d have little bruises on my lips where his fangs pressed against them. And my body was just humming with need, I could even feel my pulse beating between my thighs. I was light headed and I knew it wasn’t all from the wine as his lips curved in self-satisfied smile. I flushed scarlet as he reached out, tracing a finger along my jaw.
“Beautiful Autumn,” he cooed retreating back to his initial spot on the couch. My eye lids were starting to grow heavy. He noticed with a sigh. “It’s very late,” his smile slowly turned into a frown and he stood. What?! Even Miss Manners was panting and waiting for more. “I have a gift for you.” A brilliant smirk swept over his lips and his eyes sparkled. Then he left the room, leaving me to contemplate the full glass of blood on the coffee table and the taste of his lips which still lingered. Even though I was alone in the room, I still went through my nervous grooming.
When he returned he had a medium sized box wrapped in bright red foil wrapping paper with a big intricate bow tied out of bright red satin ribbon. He set the box on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen only to return with my coat. My brows furrowed and I couldn’t help but to cast my gaze to my feet. I felt like I did something wrong.
Yet as he held out my coat for me I still stood and made my way over to him with unsure, unstable steps. The wine went right to my head. I was vaguely aware of him putting my coat on me, and then my body leaning back against his. Everything after that came in clips, like a movie trailer for Autumn and Aleksi’s Goodnight. He carried me to his car with ease. I remembered being in his arms in the parking garage, but I didn’t know how I got there. The next scene, Aleksi carrying me up the stairs to my apartment. And finally, Aleksi undressing me on my bed as I writhed under the simple touch and begged him to take me.
“As much as I love you begging, not tonight,” he rebuked me with a kiss on the forehead before pulling the blankets over my nude body. I blinked again, and I could see him through the doorway, writing something at the kitchen island. Then the fog rolled in and sleep sucked me under.
I dreamt of long, slender, white fingers; soft, cold, colorless lips; and a murmured sweet dreams from a soft voice that sent shivers down my spine.