I hear him coming, of course, I always do. Even feel his presence before he appears in my chambers. It has always been so. For decades now, he's left the manor and made his way to my window, scratching softly when I forgot to leave the huge balcony glass open. Then just appeared...mist swirling into form, tall dark male, flaming crimson eyes and thick dark hair. Quite impressive, in his own dark magical way. Till he was bound once more. I suppose the elder master had his reasons, perhaps he had caught wind of the trysts and became disgusted. I doubted, for he never showed any inkling of knowledge in his service to me. But now, with his daughter in command, the nightly visits have resumed, much to my delight, for the creature pleases me, very much so. And he knows it, the bastard.
He stands before me now, a powerful being of darkness and magic. And I hunger for him, the coolness of flesh, press of silken lips and hot blood. But I am old, far older than before. However, that doesn't seem to matter to the one here now. For he is far older than I, centuries so. Yet, I welcome him and he comes to my embrace, that cool silk against my own warm skin, such a contrast. I know I can never have domination over this being, this one who stalks the night, but the fantasy is amusing in the least. I can pretend, and he indulges me, perhaps he finds it humorous as well. But he rises from his mocking kneel, oh, I know he would never bend knee to me in truth; 'tis a game we play, and raises my hand to his lips to kiss softly. I shiver, I'm helpless to do anything but. My jewels and other such paraphernalia have been removed, set on my dresser like every night before, and the mantle of office gone from my shoulders, yet I know that is what attracts the creature. Power. He fairly swoons to it. Thus we embrace and I feel the burning of blood in my own veins, contrasting wildly to the absence of such in the one I hold. He moves us around my chamber in a dance, perfectly melded and blended. I laugh; he does have an amusing side to his dark persona.
But he has come for a reason, this I know. So it is with heady anticipation he looms over me, the wide mobile mouth hovering over mine, and I nod my assent. He doesn't wait, his mouth plunders mine and I am nearly swooning with the power of his lust, his embrace. Then I feel it. As I have so many times before. The small cut to my lower throat, made by his fingernail. Just a small wound, hardly a scratch. But blood wells and he's drawn to the flavor. Human blood, how he craves it. Leashed, the animal cannot feed on its own. His lips attach to my throat and I strangle a cry as he pulls on my flesh, taking from my life. There are no words for the feeling...of being taken in such a primal way. It is beyond life, it is embracing death, and from such a small wound...I cannot imagine a full bite. But he is not allowed such, nor would I assent. Lips and tongue move against my flesh as I writhe slowly under his power. Wicked, forbidden, powerful...my God...the beast of nightmares, poured into flesh. Such danger.
But the flow ceases and the dark head lifts, long raven tresses whispering over my silken dressing gown. Without a word he licks his lips, I watch in near carnal lust as the long tongue moves over his lips. Remembered little encounters play over and over, coiling my stomach. He knows, of course and leans to kiss me once more, murmuring nothings into my mouth. But time has grown short and the night is waning. I am loathe to release him, but I know I must. Stepping back from me, the vampire bows at the waist, crimson eyes slightly mocking. Words veritably flow from that long-dead body. "Good night, Your Majesty...sleep well and dream of me..." And with a swirling of mist, he is gone, as silently as he appeared.
I turn back to my bed with a sigh and place my hand over the small wound, nearly imperceptible. Easily explained and hidden. Yes, I think as I slip back under the comforters and close my eyes on a breathy sigh, I shall do just that, and dream of the past, when more than a taste was allowed...until next time, my dark lover, my Alucard....
He stands before me now, a powerful being of darkness and magic. And I hunger for him, the coolness of flesh, press of silken lips and hot blood. But I am old, far older than before. However, that doesn't seem to matter to the one here now. For he is far older than I, centuries so. Yet, I welcome him and he comes to my embrace, that cool silk against my own warm skin, such a contrast. I know I can never have domination over this being, this one who stalks the night, but the fantasy is amusing in the least. I can pretend, and he indulges me, perhaps he finds it humorous as well. But he rises from his mocking kneel, oh, I know he would never bend knee to me in truth; 'tis a game we play, and raises my hand to his lips to kiss softly. I shiver, I'm helpless to do anything but. My jewels and other such paraphernalia have been removed, set on my dresser like every night before, and the mantle of office gone from my shoulders, yet I know that is what attracts the creature. Power. He fairly swoons to it. Thus we embrace and I feel the burning of blood in my own veins, contrasting wildly to the absence of such in the one I hold. He moves us around my chamber in a dance, perfectly melded and blended. I laugh; he does have an amusing side to his dark persona.
But he has come for a reason, this I know. So it is with heady anticipation he looms over me, the wide mobile mouth hovering over mine, and I nod my assent. He doesn't wait, his mouth plunders mine and I am nearly swooning with the power of his lust, his embrace. Then I feel it. As I have so many times before. The small cut to my lower throat, made by his fingernail. Just a small wound, hardly a scratch. But blood wells and he's drawn to the flavor. Human blood, how he craves it. Leashed, the animal cannot feed on its own. His lips attach to my throat and I strangle a cry as he pulls on my flesh, taking from my life. There are no words for the feeling...of being taken in such a primal way. It is beyond life, it is embracing death, and from such a small wound...I cannot imagine a full bite. But he is not allowed such, nor would I assent. Lips and tongue move against my flesh as I writhe slowly under his power. Wicked, forbidden, powerful...my God...the beast of nightmares, poured into flesh. Such danger.
But the flow ceases and the dark head lifts, long raven tresses whispering over my silken dressing gown. Without a word he licks his lips, I watch in near carnal lust as the long tongue moves over his lips. Remembered little encounters play over and over, coiling my stomach. He knows, of course and leans to kiss me once more, murmuring nothings into my mouth. But time has grown short and the night is waning. I am loathe to release him, but I know I must. Stepping back from me, the vampire bows at the waist, crimson eyes slightly mocking. Words veritably flow from that long-dead body. "Good night, Your Majesty...sleep well and dream of me..." And with a swirling of mist, he is gone, as silently as he appeared.
I turn back to my bed with a sigh and place my hand over the small wound, nearly imperceptible. Easily explained and hidden. Yes, I think as I slip back under the comforters and close my eyes on a breathy sigh, I shall do just that, and dream of the past, when more than a taste was allowed...until next time, my dark lover, my Alucard....