Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Stephenie Meyer. The original plot is the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thank you to Mary-Alice-Brandon-Cullen for prereading and to Raindrop Soup for the beta. Another huge thank you to Lacrimosa Moon who helped me choose the teaser for this one.

Grab a clean pair of underwear, lock the door, turn off your cell, and get ready for some smut!

Eternally Gifted

She

It was getting colder again, and I could already smell the rain in the air. It was the middle of October, and my birthday was coming up. I wasn't going to have a huge celebration, but I was definitely planning on spoiling myself rotten for once. Angela, my best and only friend in the world, had insisted that I should since I didn't allow her to throw a party for me.

Being the bookworm that I was, I had graduated early from high school and had sped through college, finishing my degree—English Literature with a minor in Creative Writing—by the time I turned nineteen. I never really had any close friends due to the academic load, and I never minded that. I was too shy around people, and half the time, my mind was working out scenarios in my mind, making following a mundane conversation impossible for me.

I was very fortunate to come across Angela Weber during my first year in college. Her father was the owner of one of Seattle's biggest publishing houses, and she was working on her master's degree so that she could take over the company. We hadn't shared any classes, so there had not been a reason for us to be close, but everything changed when we had—literally—bumped into each other in the library. We had both apologized and gathered our things, but as luck would have it, Angela had accidentally taken one of my stories with her amongst her own papers.

A week later, she approached me with an offer I just couldn't refuse. I was so shocked that she liked the story I had written—a short story that lasted around fifteen pages—that I nearly missed the fact that she had mentioned the words "publish" and "pay".

It had taken two hours of sitting in a café near campus before I fully understood what she was offering. Dazed, I made my way back to my dorm room, throwing myself into writing as soon as I passed the door. I had promised Angela to show her my previous work, but the idea that was born in my mind in the time I had spent sitting in that café after she was gone was just too enticing.

I nearly failed my classes that semester, but three months after our first meeting, I had the first draft ready. It was nearly 400 pages long and unedited, but it was better than anything I had ever written until that point. I had six more books planned—one of them already outlined into chapters—and with great trepidation, I gave Angela my draft and my outline.

I hadn't heard from her for two weeks. I tried not to let it get to me, but when the third week rolled on, I knew that it was silly of me to wait any longer. I had been walking down the same street that I was walking in at the moment, deflated, when I saw the elegant sign of the beauty salon with a slogan that just caught me: "Because you're worth it..."

I hadn't see the name of the place, just the slogan, but I found myself walking into the beautiful shop. It was designed in warm, wooden, almost earthy tones, the walls white without being clinical. I had been a broke college student, so I could barely afford a manicure in a place like that, but I was so down that I thought I had deserved a treat. I was worth it.

Not three minutes after my nails had been painted, my cell phone rang. Angela's name popped on the screen. Preparing myself for disappointment, I answered the call. I had begun smiling after her first sentence and, to my utmost embarrassment, had progressed to screaming like a schoolgirl after her third sentence. She wanted to publish my story. The wanted me. Her father's company would pay me to write.

Today, two years after that event, I was making more money a month than my father did in a year as the Chief of Police in the small town of Forks. He was retired now, but he never left the small town and still volunteered to help with the neighborhood watch.

These days, I could afford, and often did, more than the manicure in the "Blossom Spa", as I had come to learn was the name of the place I had walked into on that day. They had several masseuses on staff, and I came to know them all well. Once a month, I would spoil myself with a relaxing massage. Angela found it odd that I, having no interest in fashion or clothes, loved going to the spa so much, but she just didn't understand. It wasn't the final result that I cared about; it was the one hour a month in which no one would bother me, no one would call to say I was needed. It was the wonderful feeling of being completely unhinged and relaxed.

I always wrote my best chapters on the weekends after those monthly sessions.

This week, however, I wasn't the one who made the reservations. Angela had insisted that if she was not allowed to give me a birthday present—I couldn't allow her that, not after all that she had done for me—then my monthly treat was on her. It was a compromise I was willing to make, especially knowing that I would be able to pay her back with the chapters I wrote afterward.

I walked into the salon, greeting the receptionist by name as I usually did, and was immediately taken to my Angela-ordered treat.

It started with a warm bubble bath filled with aromatic oils and liquid soup that smelled like the forest after the rain. When I was clean, I wrapped myself in the soft cream robe and moved on to the manicure and pedicure. I chose a neutral pink color for my hands and a clear coat for my toes, and enjoyed the soft background music. The woman working on me didn't need me to talk, which was a very good thing, considering my thoughts were already miles and miles away. I was already thinking about the next chapters in my book, my mind filled with the supernatural elements that I loved writing about so much.

When my nails were dried, I was led to a small room with a massage bed taking most of the space. There was a small screen for me to disrobe behind and get under the warm blanket on the massage bed. I was already relaxed from my bath and the pampering so far, so I almost missed the soft knock on the door.

"Come in," I called.

My face was already placed in the right position on the bed, and I didn't bother looking at the masseuse. My thoughts were once again drifting to a world of elves and magic. In the background, I heard the masseuse moving around and the sounds of waterfalls and singing birds fill the air, and I knew that he or she must have put the music on.

I was thinking about a particular battle scene when I felt the first touch on my back. The blanket that was covering me was pulled down to my waist, and soft, warm hands began massaging scented oil into my skin. I hummed in satisfaction and let my mind drift.

My body was being thoroughly kneaded and stretched. The most wonderful scent filled my nose. I had no name for it, but it reminded me of meadows filled with wildflowers and of hidden waterfalls. I always loved nature. Living in the rainy town of Forks, under the constant cover of clouds and with acres upon acres of natural forest, I would have been very miserable if I hadn't.

I was perfectly relaxed and so thoroughly enjoying myself that I knew I would have been purring loudly if I were a member of the feline family.

—(~)—

He

I watched her countless times as she came to this place. I envied the men and women who touched her body, heard her humming in pleasure. I hated that their hands moved up and down her body in ways I wished mine would. I had waited, albeit not patiently, for the day that I could take the place of those people whom I had envied so. There was so much to think about, so much to prepare, and I was growing restless with each passing month as I watched, disgusted with myself for stalking her like that but unable to stop.

Today was the day.

It was easy enough to arrange for the switch. Money went a long way when it came to persuading people to look the other away. The rest of the technicalities were also fairly simple to address. It was the nervousness that washed over me as I heard her soft call to come in that caused my breath to hitch and my body to freeze for a moment.

I opened the door and stepped to my own little piece of heaven. She was lying face down on the massage bed in the middle of the slightly dim room. Her shoulders were bare, and the blanket that was covering her back and the curve of her behind was almost offensive to me. I wanted to see her whole body naked before me. I wanted to kiss every patch of skin.

Taking a deep breath, I locked the door behind me and prepared to settle for simply touching her, knowing that I would be the one bringing her pleasure this time around.

I inserted the CD I had brought with me in the player hidden in the corner of the room. The room was immediately filled with the recordings I had made in the week before—waterfalls on the way up to Mt. Rainer, birds chirping, the wind blowing in the meadow just five miles north of my home. The music was both for her benefit and my own. It would allow her to relax, and it would keep everyone outside the room from hearing the wonderful sounds that I knew she would make.

I arranged the oils I was going to use on the small shelf next to the stereo. They were as scentless as possible. I didn't want anything that might overpower the natural scent of her. I poured a bit of oil into my palms and warmed my hands so that they wouldn't feel cold to her warm skin. The room itself was warm—thanks to the central heating system of the spa—but lying motionless on the bed would cause her body temperature to slightly drop. That would make her feel cold, and I didn't want to cause her any discomfort.

Once my hands were warm and slick from the oil, I pulled the blanket down to her waist, feasting on the beautiful sight of her bare back revealed to me. I bit back a moan when my hands first made contact with her skin. She was so warm, so soft...

I gently pressed on her shoulders, engulfing them with my fingers and pulling back to her back. Moving my hands in a circular motion, I progressed from her shoulders to her waist, gently pressing down on each side of her back. She was breathing slowly and evenly, and I matched my breathing to hers. I could feel her starting to relax beneath my touch. I smiled. It was an amazing feeling, touching her, knowing that I was bringing her comfort.

Her thoughts slowly filtered in through the music. They were very quiet, murmured whispers. I had never before been able to hear her. In my century of life, I had never come across a creature—human or one of my kind—whose thoughts I couldn't hear. Until I came upon her, that is. Her mind was closed off to me at all times, and it nearly drove me mad.

It was the most amazing surprise to finally be able to hear her. Even though they were not complete thoughts, they were enough. As I worked on her back, I could see images of a lush green forest, images of a beautiful meadow filled with sunlight and wild flowers, and sometimes I would catch a sentence to accompany the image—a thought that had filtered through whatever shield she had on her mind.

I slowly worked my way up her back again, moving to her right shoulder, and from there, to her arm. I knew that she was an author, so when I heard words like "elf" and "magic," I was not surprised. I had read her first novel, and just like her agent, Angela Weber, I had been captivated by it. She was not known worldwide just yet, but I knew that she would be. Her words on paper had captivated me almost as much as her silent mind and beautiful brown eyes had.

I moved on to her left side, leaving one hand always in contact with her body. I couldn't let her go.

She sighed when I worked on her left arm, and her thoughts whispered, "So soft...so gentle."

I smiled. It was amazing how much it meant to me, knowing that she enjoyed my touch as much as I enjoyed hers.

When my palm touched hers, we both gasped. It was like a jolt of pure delight swept over my body. I could hear a similar reaction in her thoughts. I couldn't hear the words any longer, but I could get the general tone of enjoyment.

I moved to her legs after that, not wanting her to tense up any more than she had already did. I wanted to gain access to her mind again, and I realized that she had to be completely relaxed to allow me in. This time, unlike her arms, I worked from the outside in. I started with her feet. They were so small when I held them in my palms but so distinctively female. I almost hummed myself when I felt her relax and her whispered thoughts flooded me again. The background music change to the sound of rain falling, and after a few moments, the soft piano melody began to play.

I had written this piece when I was watching her one evening. She had been sitting in front of her computer, typing. Her expression was so focused, her eyes so animated with hidden secrets. When she had finished for the night and went about preparing for sleep, the melody was already forming in my mind. As I listened to the sound of running water and to the sounds of her heartbeat, the melody was perfected in my mind. I had recorded it on a rainy day that was absolutely perfect.

Now, as I was working the tension from her calves, I could hear that she loved the melody and the accompanying rain.

I closed my eyes, and I focused on her, slowing the movements of my hands over her thighs, I listened to her thoughts. They were getting clearer to me.

Mmm...I love this melody. It is so perfect with the drops of rain in the background.

I saw her picturing a room in a wooden cabin with large windows. Rain was falling on the glass, and she was leaning against a black polished surface. As her thoughts evolved, I could see that the surface was a piano.

I could see hands touching her in her thoughts, and I listened, almost mesmerized, as the tone to the scene changed. Her thoughts turned less peaceful and more longing. She began picturing hands touching her. It took me a moment to realize that she was thinking about my hands, which were currently working on her lower back, touching her.

I moved my palms slightly outward, caressing her waist in what was only semi-legitimate caress of a massage. She hummed in approval when I slowly moved upwards to her ribs. In her minds, I could see that she was picturing herself in the same warm room, facing the same rainy window, but this time, the tone was more lustful. She was picturing my hands moving higher than they were at that moment, cupping her breasts. I heard her moaning very quietly, and the sound went straight to my loins.

If her little fantasy had made me lust after her, that little moan had turned what was already a growing arousal into a raging hard on. I almost moaned myself at the pictures she was imagining.

I pulled away the blanket that was covering her and started working on her behind. It wasn't part of the massage she had usually ordered—clients that had paid for a full body massage remained in their undergarments. However, she didn't know that because this time the order had been placed by her friend.

The soft flesh of her rear was so supple that I wanted to lean in and give it a gentle bite. Not hard, not one that would cause her pain, oh no. Pain was the last thing I wanted her to feel. I wanted to tease her as much as she was teasing me, albeit unbeknownst to her.

No longer capable of keeping the pretense of a professional massage, I began caressing her body with reverence. Her skin was warm, and the constant contact with her had warmed my hands so that they were no longer cold. I was free to touch her, and I did.

From the top of her shoulders and onto her neck, I caressed her. She was humming again, slightly moaning at the pleasant sensation. Each sound was going straight to my groin. I leaned over her head, inhaling the scent of her hair and breathing over the skin of the back of her neck.

She shivered slightly, but her thoughts were approving.

I registered that the shiver was both due to the chillness of my breath as well as the pleasure my touch had brought her. I didn't want her to be cold, so I reached with my hand and raised the temperature on the thermometer.

I leaned forward above her head, sliding my hands down her back, my thumbs pressing gently on either side of her spine. I brought my hands back, and when I moved them down again, I spread my hands wider, caressing the sides of her body, my fingers gently—almost unintentionally—grazing the sides of her breasts.

The most wonderful scent began filling the room. It was intoxicating. More alluring then her blood, her arousal began permeating the air, and I felt myself beginning to softly purr. I wanted to rub myself on her. I wanted to cover her with my own scent and relish in her scent on my body.

I grew bolder as I continued to massage her, lightly grazing the sides of her breasts, kneading her ass and slightly pulling it upwards. I could smell her getting more and more aroused, and the fantasy that was playing in her mind was driving me crazy.

She was still stifling her moans, and while I could hear them just fine, I wanted her to let herself enjoy what I was doing to her. She was a little embarrassed that she was so turned on, and she was trying to convince herself that my touches were innocent, when they were the furthest thing from innocent as was possible.

I wasn't going to have none of that. Gently, I moved down to her thighs, spreading them just a little farther apart. I wrapped my hands around her right leg and proceeded to massage her from her foot all the way up to her ass, gently dipping my hands to her inner thigh but not touching her core. She was breathing heavily when I moved on to her left leg, repeating the process in slow, measure movements. I wanted her to be so overcome with desire that she forgot everything but my touch.

She whimpered audibly the next time I made a pass between her thighs.

God, just a little closer, I heard her beg in her mind. The mental image that followed nearly brought me to my knees. As it were, it did make me moan under my breath. It was loud enough for her to hear, but she was too preoccupied with her fantasy to actually do so.

My hands continued to massage her thighs as I drowned myself in her fantasy. It was still raining, and there was now a fire crackling in the fireplace. She was leaning on a pile of pillows, her legs spread, her head throw back, gloriously naked and enjoying herself as someone—he was nothing more than an impression—was sliding his fingers in and out of her, teasingly licking her and lapping at her juices.

Seeing this from her perspective was so arousing that it was almost painful. Almost without my permission, my fingers began traveling up her thighs, making circles around the cheeks of her ass, slowly closing in. I wanted to give her what she wished for. I wanted to be the man she was now picturing taking her from behind, plunging himself into her warmth as she moaned and mewled in pleasure.

Yes, oh, God. Please.

I was powerless to resist. I raised one hand to the apex of her thighs and gently made a pass over the very damp curls of her sex.

—(~)—

She

I was beyond coherent thought when his hands—those amazingly talented hands—made a pass between my legs. I had never felt so aroused in my life. I'd been too socially awkward during my high school years to have a boyfriend, and in college, I simply didn't have time to date. I did experiment by myself, but nothing had ever felt this good.

My fantasy of this faceless man was no longer under my control. It dissolved when reality turned to be so much better than anything I could have imagined.

I wanted him. I wanted his hands, his mouth, his body...everything.

"Turn around and close your eyes," he whispered next to my ear.

I shivered. I didn't have time to think if this was a smart thing to do. I didn't have time to feel embarrassed. It was the first time I had heard his voice, and it was as smooth as the touch of his hands. It was absolutely enticing, and I obeyed.

His hands were slightly colder than my skin, and when he touched me—an innocent touch on my knee—I bit down on my lips and moaned as quietly as I could muster. I didn't want anyone hearing me, but I couldn't hold in all these emotions.

He gently pulled me down the bed, bringing my legs over his shoulders. He kneeled, and a moment later, I felt those wonderful fingers of his spread me for him in slow passes. It was a play on my fantasy, and I didn't hold in the cry of pleasure when I felt his mouth—slightly chilly—touch my most sensitive spot. I felt myself arch, and my hands grabbed his head, holding on to the silk strands of his hair as he began licking and lapping and driving me completely beyond reasonable thought.

I trembled and moaned under his ministrations. No one, ever, did that to me. I had been kissed before, and after graduation even got past first base to actually have a guy feel my breasts under my shirt in the back of a car. It was awkward and not half as good as this man's massage. Now, I was beyond uncharted territory, but it felt so good that I didn't care.

The rough texture of his tongue was so amazingly arousing. He used his fingered to let his tongue plunge slightly inside me, and I was ready to scream. I was on the verge of something, but I didn't know what; it never felt this good.

"Oh, God, yes...This feels, oh, so amazing." I didn't mean to say it out loud, but the words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Yes...please."

I didn't know what I was begging for, but I was out of breath, and I needed it. It was scary and good all at the same time.

God, whatever it is, I need it right the hell NOW.

And then I felt his finger slide inside me, and everything exploded. I heard myself yell, but I was beyond caring as wave after wave of the most carnal pleasure imaginable washed over me.

What the hell was that?

It was a fleeting thought, lasting no longer then a second in the jumbled mess that was absolute delight. I could have sworn that I had just had a heart attack, only it felt too good to be bad. My heart was beating so loudly that I heard it in my ears as though it was a drum, but before I was able to set my breathing straight, the man slid a second finger inside me and did something that threw me into the same vortex as before.

I was being pulled down again, but this time I knew that there was the best kind of pleasure waiting for me on the other side.

I knew I was chanting something along the lines of, "Yes, oh God, please, yes," and I thought I had heard him chuckle. That was not important. My mind had no room to think about anything beyond that wonderful sensation that was once again building inside me.

It was so much quicker this time. He was doing something so good with his mouth and his fingers; I knew his hands were talented when he was giving me a massage, but this was a thousand times more powerful. I cried out again when I was hit with that pleasure, but there was no fear in me.

I felt tears forming in my eyes and flowing down my cheeks. I heard myself laugh in delight as I slowly hovered down from the clouds. I slumped down on the bed, catching my breath and smiling like a fool.

Oh. My. God. Best birthday present ever. The thought was so sudden that I laughed harder at it. Happy birthday to me.

I don't know how long I was in my own little bubble of blissful happiness, but when my heart finally stopped trying to jump out of my chest and my lungs were once again full of air, I found myself unwilling to open my eyes.

He was still caressing me, but this time it was in relaxing caresses. I sighed happily. I never wanted to move again.

It seemed like he had other ideas, though. As soon as my breathing even out, and I felt myself almost drifting to sleep, he began kissing the inside of my thigh. His kisses were so light that at first they tickled me, but I found myself moaning when his hands moved upward and cupped both of my breasts. His mouth was going from one thigh to the other, teasing me, while his hands worked on kneading my breasts just as thoroughly as he had done to the rest of my body.

I didn't know that I could go from complete satisfaction to complete starvation so quickly. My hands covered his out of their own accord, and while it did make me blush, it felt too good. His hands and my hands, intertwined over my soft flesh.

I moved my hands over his wrists and down to his arms, feeling as much of him as I could reach. He was muscular and yet slightly cold to the touch. I thought about opening my eyes to look at him, but then he gently pinched my nipples between his fingers and his mouth was suddenly on me again.

"Oh, my..." My voice cracked in the middle of the sentence and the rest of it was lost amongst these wonderful new—yet already familiar—sensations.

I felt almost guilty that I was the only one to enjoy myself. I wanted him to feel the same pleasure as I did, and a part of me wanted to know how it would feel to have more of him. What would his chest feel like when it was naked under my fingers? How wide were his shoulders? Was he tall?

I wanted to see him, to touch him. I wanted to kiss him and find out if he was just as talented with his mouth on my upper lips as he was on the nether ones. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks at the thought. I had never contemplated such thoughts. Truth be told, I never had a reason to.

I opened my mouth to speak, to plead with him to allow me to look at him, but found my mouth preoccupied. His kiss was everything I had ever imagined a kiss should be. It was soft but deep, almost loving. My hands were in his hair once again, and I hummed in delight when I felt his chest—his bare chest—against my body.

I was suddenly being moved. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close to him, and I was lifted from the bed and brought down on the blanket that had previously been used to cover me. The floor was carpeted and the blanket was thick enough so that it would feel comfortable, and a part of my mind—a very small part—was able to register that in between his kisses.

I was much more focused on his mouth and his tongue. He was devouring my mouth, yet he was gentle about it. It was as though he was set on giving me as much pleasure as he possibly could, with every single part of his body.

I didn't even notice that he was cradled between my legs until he bucked his hips slightly, and I felt the evidence of his own arousal press into me. For the first time since he had touched me, I allowed myself free reign over his body. He kept kissing me like a starving man who found an oasis after many days in the hot desert, his mouth leaving mine only to catch a breath and to kiss my neck. I used my hands to study his broad shoulders, the hard plains of his back, and although it made me blush, I even grabbed his firm ass in my hands as he rocked into me. He was all muscle, and I was certain that he was a very strong man, but the gentleness he had shown me so far was proof that he wouldn't use that strength to hurt me.

His mouth on my neck was very distracting, and soon I was anxious to get him to the same state of undress that I was in. I was thankful for the cotton pants he was wearing; jeans would have been much harder to push off of his hips using my feet.

"So soft," he murmured, his breath tickling my neck. "So delicate."

I whimpered and pressed myself upward. My nipples brushed against his chest, which was much colder than I had expected him to be, and I moaned when the caress made my stomach tighten in anticipation. I was suddenly curious as to how his mouth would feel on my breasts. He was amazing when he went down on me, and he was an amazing kisser. I had no doubt that it would be just as pleasurable.

"I want..." I hesitated. I felt myself blushing and bit my lip.

"Anything," he breathed.

And as if reading my mind, his lips traveled down my neck to my collarbone and to my chest. His body moving slightly lower, I was able to push his pants further away, and this time he didn't stop me. He shook away his pants and began licking a path to my right nipple, flicking it gently. I couldn't hold my eyes closed any longer. I had to see him. I opened my eyes to see his lips close around my nipple and the sight was almost as erotic as the feeling itself.

He was beautiful. His eyes, dark ambers looking straight into me, his hair, disheveled by my hands, was an odd mix of browns and reds, and his lips...those amazingly talented lips were wrapped around my nipple, and he was sucking it. Every motion of his mouth had a direct connection to the coil tightening in the pits of my stomach.

I couldn't take my eyes away from him, and it appeared as though he was of the same mind. As he moved from one nipple to the other, his eyes never left mine, and I saw him smirk in what was possibly the sexiest expression I had ever seen in my life.

—(~)—

He

She was absolutely beautiful in her passion. I was feeling mighty proud of myself after giving her so much pleasure, and the raw passion I saw written all over her face when she opened her eyes to see me holding her nipple between my lips was the most satisfying of them all.

I had seen this done hundreds of times, in the minds of hundreds of humans and vampires alike, but I could never have imagined what it would be like to bring pleasure to someone like her. Someone I cared deeply about. Someone I now feared I would never be able to let go of.

She was mine. I was certain of that fact, just as I was certain that I was hers.

I found that I could read her more easily when I was looking into her eyes. Her thoughts were a bit clearer, and I heard the desire she did not dare speak. Even after everything I had done to her, she was still shy about asking things. I heard her tone of embarrassment and her curiosity when I brought her to her release, but I thought she would have understood that I would do anything to please her.

Now that I was as bare as her, it was harder to resist taking her. I wanted to prolong her pleasure, but felt my own needs rising to the surface. Her bucking her hips into mine, causing me to graze her sex every time, were almost overwhelming.

Leaning on my elbow, I let go of her nipples and looked into her eyes, my hand cupping her cheek. I wanted to be inside her. I wanted to feel that warmth that I had felt with my fingers and mouth before. I moved slightly higher, positioning myself just right so that all it would take was a small nudge and I would be inside her.

She suddenly broke into a brilliant smile, and I heard her thoughts echoing in my head. I never thought I'd feel this way, never thought I'd see anyone look at me with so much emotion.

I leaned closer to her lips and she met me half way, and I knew that she wanted this as much as I did. I took her mouth at the same time as I pressed myself into her. She cried against my lips, but it wasn't in pleasure this time; it was in pain. Stunned, I froze.

Had I been too rash? Had I lost control over my own strength? Had I misjudged my movements?

I pulled away from her lips, not daring to move beyond that, and saw a tear escape her eyes, which were shut tightly.

"I'm so-sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't mean to...I didn't...Are you...?"

I tried listening to her thoughts, but they were closed before me; she had her walls up again. I waited, desperate for her to open her eyes, to know what had happened. I was nearly out of my mind with worry, but I was too afraid to make another movement that might hurt her more.

She blushed, and I grew even more confused. Her hips moved against me, causing me to slide gently back and forth inside her tight warmth. I moaned; the sensation was just too good, and then she did it again.

It was only when I smelled it that I realized what had happened and felt like the worst kind of idiot. At any other occasion, her blood, especially freshly spilled, would have been irresistible to me. Right now, however, I couldn't even bring myself to think about anything other than turning the pain into pleasure for her.

Encouraged by her movements, I began making slow, careful movements inside her, allowing her to adjust to the intrusion of my body while trying to keep my mind off of my instincts, which were screaming at me to move faster, plunge into her harder.

I wanted to push my own satisfaction to the side, but she wouldn't let me. Her eyes locked with mine again, and her movements grew bolder. She was answering every thrust of my body with an upward buck of her hips. Soon, I could barely think straight anymore. The last trace of sanity I had was focused on keeping my strength at bay as my own pleasure took over me, and I shuddered in release.

She held me, her small, weak arms and legs wrapped around my body as I found my pleasure in her heat. This was better than the sweetest blood I had ever tasted. I knew that the only thing that could ever be better would be to taste her blood straight from the vein, and that was something that I could never bring myself to do. It was impossible for me to hurt her in that way.

I hummed and felt myself purring quietly as the haze of passion began to clear from my mind. I slid out of her body, biting back a groan at the separation, but I saw her wince and knew I needed to give her time to adjust.

"Don't move," I whispered to her.

She nodded, her brows slightly furrowing in confusion.

I stood up and walked to the shelf with the oils. Under the shelf was a small sink with a towel hanging next to it. I drenched the towel, squeezed the excess water out, and returned to my girl. She did not move; her eyes seemed to be watching my every movement. Her expression was peaceful, almost smug, and I felt myself smiling in return.

Kneeling beside her, I used the towel to gently wash the sweat and massage oil from her body. I followed my hands with my eyes and felt my arousal grow with each contact I made with her skin. When I finished with her torso, I gently parted her legs again and positioned myself between them. Deserting the towel, I began kissing her, licking the mixture of our fluids and the minute trace of her blood. It was as sweet as I had imagined it to be. When one thigh was clean, I moved to the other. I could smell her arousal building up again and could hear her heartbeat picking up once more.

"May I taste you?" I asked.

She had a small smile on her lips. "You didn't ask the first time."

I would have been worried had it not been for the amused tone and the fact that her smile never wavered. I wanted her to feel pleasure again, to make her forget the pain I had caused. Even if causing it was unavoidable, I wished to erase the memory of it from her mind.

It was as intense as it had been the first time I had tasted her. However, knowing the feeling of being inside her, I couldn't stop the desire to feel it again. This should be about her pleasure, I reminded myself, but the little minx was having none of it. I had heard the direction of her thoughts even before she tried to pulling upwards.

"I need you," she said, her tone husky and barely audible. "Please."

Torn between wanting to give her what she wanted—what we both wanted—and not wanting to cause her pain, I tried to insert two fingers inside her. There was no trace of pain in her mind or in her expression, there was only pleasure. I began curling my fingers upward as I moved them in and out, but she stopped me.

"No." She shook her head. "I need to feel you."

There was no will left in me to object; we both wanted it, and she was not hurting anymore.

—(~)—

She

I expected him to slide upward when I saw his resolve melt and felt his fingers leave me, but he didn't cover me with his body; instead, he lay down next to me and pulled me on top of him. I went willingly, curious and more than a little aroused. The initial pain was only there for a moment, and while there was slight discomfort afterward, now there was nothing but the tingling of anticipation.

"Take as much of me as you want," he whispered.

I felt myself flush with heat, not from embarrassment but from desire. I lifted myself up on my knees, took him in my hand, and slowly sank down. My eyes closed as he filled me, inch after delicious inch. I was so wet, so prepared by him that I felt nothing but pleasure as I took him deep into my body.

His hands came to rest on my thighs, encouraging, and I opened my eyes to look at his face. His strong jaw was slightly clenched, and something told me that he was working very hard on keeping himself from rushing me. I didn't really know what to do in the position that I was in, but knowing that his fingers had felt good inside me and that just before I felt him shudder above me, his thick length felt even better, I attempted to move my hips. The jolt of pleasure was so powerful and unexpected that I moaned and threw my head back. I repeated the motion, mimicking what seemed like the movements one would make when riding a horse, and felt his hands tighten slightly over my thighs.

It took great effort to open my eyes as I was moving on top of him. The friction in this position was in all the right spots, and I already felt the first shudders of pleasure begin. I wanted to see his eyes, his face. I wanted to know that what I was doing was every bit as amazing to him as it was amazing to me.

I found almost black eyes staring intensely at me. His expression was somewhere between pain and pleasure, and I felt pride for being able to bring him to this state. I understood how it felt—so good that it was almost painful.

Every moment brought him deeper inside me. I wanted more. I needed more. I was going faster and could no longer hold my eyes open. It was the most selfish moment—that second in which everything but the pleasure he was bringing me disappeared. I gasped when I felt him move to sit up and his mouth on my breast. He began suckling on my nipples, slightly harder that he did before, and suddenly, his fingers were between us, pressing the sensitive place just above where we were connected and I climaxed.

I felt him shudder as well, felt his twitch inside me, but that was in the background. The shocking pleasure traveling from my core, up my spine, and into every cell and nerve of my body was at the forefront. The pleasure was all-consuming, so much so that I didn't feel him bite down on my neck until much later when I suddenly began to grow unnaturally cold.

—(~)—

He

I only realized what I had done after she had gone limp in my arms. I found myself kissing and licking her neck, just above the place where I had bitten her. I felt both horrified and proud at the same time. I did not mean for it to happen, but the instinctual part of me knew that it had to. She was mine. I would not let another touch her, ever again.

And now she would be mine forever.

She wasn't screaming yet, but that part would come soon enough. I needed to get her out of here. I wrapped her body in the robe and laid her on the massage bed. Using my natural speed, I gathered her things from the shower room and returned to the room where she lay still.

Going for the window, I carried her to my car, and after placing her carefully in the backseat, sped away at full throttle.

I drove as quickly as I could, making it to my mountain cabin in less than two hours. It was much fancier than the one my girl had pictured in her mind, but I thought that she would like it nonetheless. I had learned enough about her to know that she preferred the simple over the grand, and I hoped that the peaceful beauty of the surrounding forest and the nearby lake would be enough to charm her.

As hours passed and she had yet to make a sound, I was growing worrisome. She should be in pain by now, thrashing and screaming, and yet, she was as still as stone, sans her heartbeat. I hated leaving her, but I knew that she would need clothes at the very least. Waking up would be confusing enough without being naked.

I decided to run to her apartment. It was nighttime and an unfamiliar car would draw too much attention. I entered through her window and quickly packed her belongings. Clothes, photos, her laptop, everything I could find went into two large bags. She really didn't have that much, and furniture were a bit impractical to carry in the middle of the night, especially across state lines.

I was back by her side before the end of the first day of her change. I bathed and dressed her, and then laid her back on the bed again. It was the one piece of furniture that I had never thought I would need, but when I was decorating this cabin, it just seemed right to get one. I liked to lie on it as I read or listened to music. In some ways, it made me feel a little less of a wild beast.

As the second day approached and there was still no sound from my girl, I thought I was going to lose my mind worrying. Her mind had closed off the moment I had bit her, and there were no thoughts filtering in, even though I kept my hands in constant contact with her skin, so I was beyond thrilled when at the end of the second day, as I lay hugging her, I saw a glimpse of her mind. It was like watching a human dream, images so vivid and disjointed. I was almost hypnotized.

Was it possible that she was not feeling the pain at all, that she was sleeping peacefully in my arms?

I kept watching throughout the second day and into the third as her dreams began to make more sense. She was thinking about the hours we had spent making love in the spa, and from the tone of her thoughts, she was fond of the memory. I closed my eyes and completely immersed myself in her thoughts.

Some time into the third day, I heard a new sound from her. Her heart was still beating fairly quickly, but this new sound, although coming from her chest was not a heartbeat; it was a purr. I wrapped myself around her, burying my nose in the crook of her neck and began purring myself. I knew that it was not a conscious response, but the sound was the most beautiful sound to me in the whole world.

Soon, I was kissing her neck, nibbling gently on the permanent scar that was my mark. Her purrs were slowly growing louder, and so were mine. I knew that I shouldn't be doing this, but I felt my body respond to her presence, regardless. It was stronger than it had been when she was human. The desire to claim her again was almost crippling, and her purrs did nothing to discourage me. When day three was drawing to a close, I knew that I should get up, give her space, but as soon as I made to move, her hands grabbed me, her eyes snapped open and she growled.

She growled.

That was quite possibly the sexiest thing I had ever heard or seen since watching her come apart in my mouth.

Her purrs grew louder and mine echoed. I watched her eyes as she eyes me hungrily, and in a matter of a heartbeat—hers, since her heart still seemed to be beating—she was straddling me again.

Clothes were ripped off, both mine and hers, under the impatient hands of the both of us. I needed her, and she seemed to be in the same mind set. However, just as she was about to sink down on me, I rolled us over and held myself above her.

She would have to learn soon enough that she was not the dominant one. I was.

I thrust inside her much harder than I could have when she was human, and although she growled at me, it ended in a purr. As soon as I was sheathed inside her, she began rocking her hips and I let go of the reigns. I kissed her with all the desperation, fear, and love that I had felt for her, and both felt and heard the same emotions echo in her mind. I was moving faster, making deeper thrusts as she wrapped her legs around my waist.

"Mine." I growled the word.

Her piercing crimson eyes shot open, and she growled back at me. "Mine."

I needed her so much. She was the other half of my soul, and I knew that I could not exist without her. Hearing her agree, feeling the desperation with which we clung to each other, it was better than any gentle soothing anyone could have offered at that moment.

I kissed her on her mouth once more and then moved to her neck, allowing her access to mine. She attacked immediately, nibbling, licking, and kissing along my collarbone and up my neck. I sped up my thrusting, no longer able to keep an even pace, and felt myself getting close. I wanted her with me, wanted her to feel every bit of pleasure I could give her before I took my own.

Words were too hard to form, and coherent sentences were so far beyond me they might as well be a foreign language. I growled and purred in her ear, and then gently bit down on her neck. I felt her fluttering on the verge of an orgasm, her body pulsating around mine. I broke skin at the same time as she bit me, marking me as hers for all of eternity. There would be time to talk later, time to show her how to hunt down the animals to slake her thirst, time to tell her about the rest of my family and bring her to meet them. There would be time for that later, much, much later...because right now, there was nothing more important to me than to give pleasure to my mate and take pleasure in her.