Strange Love
Vampires. Werewolves. Shape-shifters. Fairies. Who knew what else. Sookie Stackhouse had learned a lot about the supernatural in the past year. She'd had, and lost, a first love, who just so happened to be a 137 year old Civil War veteran vampire named Bill Compton. A 137 year old Civil War veteran vampire who'd just so happened to have cheated on her with his maker, Lorena. At present, Sookie stood under the welcome spray of her shower with 1,000 year old Viking vampire, Sheriff of Area 5 (a vampire hierarchy thing), Eric Northman, who was buck naked and looked like a god. Better days? Sookie couldn't think of any right now.
"Let me, my lover," he'd said, and had taken the soap from her. He lathered and washed her completely, and then she the same to him, and then they were in her bed, making love, amazing love; Sookie's body shivered with the aftershock of her new lover's full treatment of her just healed body. He held her close, smoother her hair and breathed in the scent of it; Sookie liked fake Eric much better than real Eric, who, althobeit excited her, also frightened her. Either way, memory loss or no, he'd called her Lover before, as if he somehow knew that he would one day have her.
Looked like that day had come, and Sookie was ever grateful that it had. She needed him, rather, her body needed him, more than she herself cared to admit.
She'd had his blood before so they shared a bond, and now he'd had hers. His skin seemed to glow more with each gulp of it, his libido having gone through the metaphorical roof, and Sookie felt an ecstasy she didn't know was possible, until now.
Lying in Eric's arms, safe, warm, and worn out, her body pulsed as it never had before.
"My Lover," he whispered before drifting to sleep, and Sookie smiled, nestled her head into the crook of his neck, and fell fast asleep.
