Page 41 of Accidental Vampire

“He’s dead.”

“Oh.” So we’re not immortal. We could die. He pinched the other shoulder now.

“Sometimes you have to give the body something else to think about.”

I rolled my head around a little bit. I hadn’t realized how much tension I was carrying.

“Have you done this before?” He didn’t answer, so I tried again. “Have you, um,” I fumbled for the right phrase, “turned someone before.”

“Made.”

“What?”

“Have you made a vampire before?” He corrected me. “That’s how we phrase it.”

“Oh.” I gasped when he put a thumb or elbow into the small of my back.

“No,” he said.

“No what?” I was having trouble following the conversation.

“I’ve never made another vampire.”

“So, I’m your first?”

His movement paused for a second before he continued hitting delicious pressure points in my back.

“Do vampires turn… make,” I corrected myself, “many… children? Do you call it that?”

“This doesn’t feel very fatherly.” He whispered. Fuck no, it did not.

I wanted to press the issue. My curiosity about this whole thing was getting harder to contain. Focusing on that might help me ignore the throbbing in my pussy.

I gasped and stiffened when he slipped a knee between my legs. He pushed my knee up so it was bent at a right angle. As he kept his thumb in my back, all the muscle tension in my lower body slipped away. That was great and all, I totally wanted to enjoy it but it heighten the simmering lust. My body was betraying me again. My hips rocked against the bed, trying to grind out some satisfaction.

“Focus here.” He shook out joined hands. He squeezed a bit harder, a pace slower than my heart beat so it all felt discordant and jangly. I moaned. This was becoming obscene. Heat flushed my cheeks.

“We feel things, sense things, more.” Lachlan’s voice was lush and deep. His accent creeped in, sounding like poetry. “Sensation. Emotion. Sound. When it’s too much, focus on one thing.”

I had never felt anything like this and I wasn’t sure if that was because of this new state of being, or because of him. I turned my head to look at our hands. His long pale fingers entwined in mine. I tried to match my breathing to the rhythm he was creating. My heart beat stuttered and slowed till it matched that pace. My body went all liquidy, the throbbing in my pussy echoed his touch.

“Here.” He squeezed my hand hard. I blinked rapidly to come back at his direction. Soon, too soon, the thrumming in my pussy stole my attention back. Lachlan seemed to know, and he would pull me back to our hands. It was like an orgasm in slow motion, that feeling of sensation building right before you push it over the edge, but sustained, stuck, not moving forward. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I sat up and pulled his hand to my chest, held it cherished, like a relic.

“Fuck me.”

His breathing became ragged. With his free hand, he brushed wisps of hair out of my face. But he wouldn’t look at me.

“I can’t.” He whispered, almost sounding lost.

“Can’t or won’t?” I needed some satisfaction. I needed to control what my body was doing, rather than being dragged along for the ride.

“Can’t.” His accent thick with vowels that filled his mouth and the ‘t’ getting lost.

I swallowed. My pride. “Please.”

He cupped my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. He brought our foreheads together and let out a shaky breath. “Tiffany.” So soft, I barely heard it.

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