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Jason and Tara had both made time to teach her to fight. Their advice had been simple, effective: knees, throat and eyes. Jason had practiced with her in the yard until she struck him in the throat so hard he vomited and cried simultaneously. After that, Sookie assumed she had reached whatever standard was required of her.

Sookie was, by no means, a threat – but she could handle herself and anyone else who wanted to try. Of course, this didn't take into account vampires and their super speed and super strength and super this and that. However, it also didn't take into account her own newfound super abilities.

Putting aside the draining, the incident of kidnapping and chaining up, Sookie knew that Eric would disembowel himself before he hurt her – so she was feeling good.

Sookie bounced on her feet, her arms and fists loose and languid. Eric circled her from nine feet away, his movement slow and predacious, controlled. A lethal smile played on his mouth, anticipation glittered in his eyes; Eric loved this, she could tell. And she'd admit that she liked it too.

The air between them was cooking smooth and warm with a delicious sexual tension.

Eric raised his hand and motioned for her to come closer. "Come here, little girl."

Sookie could've laughed. She moved towards him and, once within hitting distance, she predicted his move and turned at the moment he flitted behind her and delivered a sharp punch to the base of his throat. She hadn't expected his skin to be so hard, so much like marble, and she recoiled at the pain but maintained her posture, her direction and intention. She turned to her side to deliver a kick to his sternum.

Eric seemed surprised and didn't react in time for her to jump, wrap herself around him and drop a punch to his heart.

"I could've staked you," she whispered against his lips. She kissed him before he pushed her from his chest and she fell on her feet, which were sore but no distraction. She bounced on her toes.

"I only wanted to see the fight in you," Eric told her. "That was your only chance."

"I only need one," Sookie reminded him. She smiled at him deviously, "Come on then. Let's see the fight in you."

Eric came at her so she raised her hands and threw him backwards with a short burst of light. She watched him hit the ground, stunned. He growled at her and she chuckled.

"That the best you can give me?"

Eric grinned. He came at her a second time, moving behind her at the last moment, so her light exploded unused into the night, and he snatched her around her waist and raised her neck to his mouth. Before he could speak, Sookie dug her elbow into his chest and kicked her foot into his knee, finally raising her hands behind her and blasting him with her light. He dropped her and fell backwards.

Sookie turned. "Don't tell me you're holding back?"

"I don't like to give it all up the first time."

"Come on, baby," Sookie taunted. She had no fear of the ground she was trampling on, she knew she had power, she knew she was equal and could walk freely where she pleased – there was no dangerous ground. "Give it all to me."

Eric flitted around her, too quickly for her eyes to catch him, and she felt herself being tackled to the ground the moment after he had her prostrate. He went to seize her throat but she threw her light at his face, striking him dumb, and threw him beneath her, slamming her hand on his nose and cracking her elbow across his jaw. She was shocked when she watched his blood splatter across the ground, distracted for one minute too long as Eric tossed her effortlessly from him.

She landed on her back, the air knocked from her lungs, clambered readily to her feet, raising her fists once more. Dark purple bruises were blossoming on her knuckles but the adrenalin washed away any pain that could've distracted her.

Eric came towards her and pulled her up in his arms, clenching her to his chest. Her breaths were restricted and filled the centimetre of space between them. Whatever she'd hurt had healed, but blood had crusted around the corner of his mouth and nostrils. She felt bad, but only momentarily.

"You surprise me, Sookie."

"Don't doubt me," she told him firmly. "I'm more than you think I am."

Eric nodded; his eyes betrayed his wonder, his astonishment, and she was overwhelmed by how offended she felt. She wanted him to recognise and respect her – she wasn't just a waitress.

"You don't need me to protect you."

"No," Sookie concurred softly, she caressed his face affectionately. "Does that bother you?"

"No," Eric answered sincerely. "I love that. But I want to help."

"I want you to," she assured him. "I could do this alone, I could live without you and Bill, but I don't want to. I want to protect you and I want you to protect me, I want to be yours and you to be mine."

"I am."

"I know," she said, quietly. "But don't doubt me anymore. If you love me, you should know who I am."

"I am learning," he promised.

Sookie held his face in her hands and brought their mouths together, kissing him. Their mouths, their tongues moved together, and she relished the feel of him, combing her fingers through his hair and gripping his head. There was blood in his mouth and she licked it up, savouring the flavour, enjoying the sticky residue left on her tongue before Eric reclaimed it with his own.

Eric's hands traversed the contours of her body. Sometimes, Eric was like a sixteen-year-old boy with her body – his hands squeezing and seizing her breasts and ass with more enthusiasm than was maybe acceptable for a thousand-year-old, not that she minded terribly. She liked to feel the excitement and enthusiasm fizzing beneath his fingers, touching her like a virgin each time. She liked that he had done this before and acted like he'd never. She liked that he wasn't bored, that – despite the thousand years and million women who had come before her – he was, not only interested, but enlivened with want and need and desperation to touch and feel and have and know.

"I want you," he mumbled.

"Yes," she breathed.

Sookie gasped at the sensation of Eric flitting them into the house, into the lounge, lowering them together onto the couch.

Sookie pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips, her hands pushing his shirt up around his shoulders, tweaking his nipples between her fingers and running her palms across his abdominal muscles, which made her mouth water and her breath shorter.

"You're beautiful," she told him, lowering her mouth to his nipples, tugging them between her teeth. Eric gasped and gritted his teeth, rubbing her head with his hands as he tried to direct her mouth – but she was having none of that. This would be her show.

Sookie sat up, ensured that Eric's eyes were hot on her, slid her hands beneath her shirt and slowly moved her hands upwards, exposing her body to him in heartbeats. She pulled the shirt over her head, shaking her hair out and curving herself backwards, tipping her head back. Using her hand, she painted a trail from her chin, down her neck, between her breasts and down her stomach, her fingers splayed out across her skin, encouraging him to watch her. She heard his fangs click as she slipped her hand inside her shorts, under her underwear, one finger sliding between her lips.

Sookie had never been overtly sexual, because she knew – from people's minds – that all she really needed to do was stand still to be entirely, explicitly sexualised. She dreaded to imagine what people would have thought dare she make the cleanest dirty joke.

Being a virgin for as long as she had, she was the grand fucking master of her own pleasure. She doubted anyone could touch her the way she could. But no-one suspected that of her. A girl as outwardly asexual as her, how could she know anything about pleasure? Bill had been speechless when she'd slapped his hands and showed him precisely what she needed, then continued to instruct him in uninhibited detail until they were headed in the same direction. Sookie had realised early on that she had no patience to be coy where her pleasure was concerned.

Fortunately for her, Bill listened and repeated exactly as he was told. And Eric, he had a strong foundation of experience, which she had built on with her own delicate, detailed preferences.

She still loved to do it herself, because she didn't need any instruction, support or praise – as far as she was concerned, Sookie Stackhouse was impeccable in bed.

She wet the tip of her finger against her folds, letting it slide upwards and downwards until enough moisture had gathered, when she used the pad of her finger to rub her clitoris in slow circles. Everything shivered, quivered; the colours, the objects, the space started to dissolve around her. Absolute fucking perfection.

She rolled herself on her one finger, feeling the screws holding her together loosening all at once.

"Sookie."

Sookie felt herself yanked back into the room, her eyes blinked open lazily. Eric stared at her ravenously, his eyes devoured her, his hands clawed at her.

"Touch yourself," she instructed. She raised herself and slid backwards so Eric could have access to himself, her hand never left her underwear. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she rode a particularly strong wave. When she opened her eyes, Eric's hand was beneath his jeans, gently moving upwards and downwards.

"Let me see," she asked.

"Let me see."

Sookie smiled widely. She stood, held his stare, as she pushed her shorts from her hips to around her ankles. She wore plain white cotton panties, comfortable, practical and fairly unsexy, but it never made a difference to Eric – she was about to be naked, how could her clothes begin to matter?

She stripped her panties off and stood there exactly as God had made her. She rested her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "Your turn."

Momentarily distracted by her nakedness, Eric flitted to stand inches from her. She stared up into his face and he stared down into hers, their eyes dark reflections of each-other. Eric wrenched open the buttons of his jeans, she couldn't help but cast her eyes downwards – she liked what was underneath his jeans. He didn't try to make a performance of it, shoving his jeans around his ankles and then whipping his shirt over his head.

Eric grabbed her into his arms, she locked her ankles around his lower back. He ducked his head to nibble the sensitive skin of her jawline, making her giggle. She could feel his smile.

"I like that sound."

"What?" she giggled.

"That sound," Eric said. "It means you're happy."

"It means you tickled me."

"I like to see that smile," he leaned in to trace the curve of her mouth with his tongue, stopping between her parted lips to slip his tongue inside, kissing her. He pulled back, she whined. "Everything's good, isn't it? You're happy?"

Sookie avoided his eyes, pressing her mouth to his temple. "I think so."

Eric pulled her from him, forced her to meet his stare.

"I'm the happiest I've been in a long while," she admitted. "I'm happy right now."

"With me?"

"When you're not insufferable or manipulative or being a conniving asshole, yeah." There was hurt in his eyes but she wouldn't make apologies for being honest. She nudged his nose with hers. "I love you. All of you. Everything that makes you, makes the man I love. I know I'm not perfect, but I'd like for you to love me nonetheless so that I can do the same for you."

Eric kissed her warmly, wetly and desperately. He emptied his heart into the kiss and she pushed it right back, giving her own, giving and taking, having and holding.

"I love you. Every frustrating faction of who you are, I love it."

"Well, duh." She kissed him. "But who're you calling frustrating?"

Eric laughed against her mouth. "You. The bane of my existence."

"The bane?" she grinned.

"Uh-huh." Their kisses were wet and their mouths slipped across each-other, their tongues winding together. She held his shoulders while his hands stroked down her back, lighting her nerve endings and making her grind against him.

"I want you inside me."

"Is that so?" he teased, nipping her lower lip.

"If you don't want to do it, I can find someone else."

"No," Eric said once, harshly, positioning his cock against her before pushing inside. Her head rolled back and she let out a long moan as he filled her, each inch touching all the places inside her that she loved to be touched. He groaned into her neck, each inch touching all the places inside her that he loved to touch. For a moment, they remained like that – Sookie speared on his cock, her hands dragging against his shoulders, his hands scratching at her ass.

Sookie tossed her head and extended her neck towards his mouth. "Bite me."

Eric rested his forward against her neck for a minute. "It's so good." He straightened his neck, clicked his fangs downwards and bit into her neck, grunting as her blood gushed into his mouth. He could taste the desire in her blood, the love, the arousal and popcorn. He couldn't hear her moaning above the rushing in his ears.

Eric started thrusting against her hips, driving his dick inside her, while he fed on her blood. His head flashed and fizzled with overstimulation – the rare blood in his mouth, the exceptional pussy on his dick, it held him right on the precipice of far too much fucking gloriousness for one sitting.

Sookie writhed in his arms. She was beginning to feel faint, her mind was blinking on and off like a broken television. She couldn't concentrate on either sensation – the wicked dick inside her, the wicked mouth on her neck. Far too fucking much. Far too fucking good.

She tore at his back with her fingernails, tearing his skin up. Eric pulled off her neck, sealing the bite, before diving into kiss her mouth, her blood smeared across his mouth, hot and wet on his tongue and teeth. She kissed him back, aching and arching into a fast-approaching orgasm, riding him, her hips thrusting against his over and over, feeling the hard pressure collecting deep inside her. She wondered if she could come just like this.

Eric held her hips, directed her thrusts on his cock harder and harder and harder, beating her merciless and senseless. She was disintegrating against him, her body liquefying and evaporating; she felt so tremendously distant from the world. All she knew was skin and heat and sweat and fuck she was going to come, hard.

Eric pecked at her neck, her jawline, swirled his tongue in her ear. Sookie tore at his hair, her tongue dragging hot, wet lines across his neck and into his temple and hairline.

Eric collapsed on his knees, careful to hold Sookie to his chest, careful not to slip from inside her. He laid her on the wooden floor, pressed himself flush against her, driving himself inside her. He gripped her shoulders in his hands, holding her in place so that she took the full impact of each thrust, her breath leaving her in terse gasps. He sucked on her neck, making the skin redden and darken. He was going to come.

"I'm going to come."

"Hold on."

Sookie rolled them over so she straddled him and she rode him. He lay there useless and battled with the sensations threatening to blind him. A thousand years, and all he could do was clench his teeth and hope he outlasted his lover – the shit she could do to him made him feel stupid, but so fucking lucky.

"Okay, okay . . ." Sookie panted, her hands leaving his chest to tear at her own hair as her orgasm crashed through her. He could feel her tightening and jerking around his cock and he unclenched his teeth and just let himself go, his cock spurting his thick load inside her. Each spurt made him convulse violently.

Eric may have blacked out for a second. He opened his eyes and Sookie had laid her head on his chest, his cock becoming soft inside her, he could feel his cooling come dripping.

"That was . . ." she sighed. She raised her head and stared in his eyes, brushing the hair from his face. She looked serene. "I needed that."

"Glad to oblige," he whispered. One hand came to stroke her hair, while the other massaged her scalp. She purred under his hands, her body stretching beautifully feline, he slipped from inside her. It suddenly occurred to him how exceptional the pain of her loss would be, the mood shifted quietly, he stopped and held her. The weight of her against him, her breath, her heartbeat, her smell, it was dangerously finite and that fucking terrified him.

"Eric, you're crushing me," Sookie wiggled underneath his hands and moved to his side.

She had fought to stay alive and one day that fight would leave her and that would be all. Tears threatened to form in his eyes. No.

Eric turned to his side to face her. She whined uncomfortably at the shift. "Sookie."

"Mmm?" she opened one eye.

"I will always fight for you," Eric promised her, the words soft and muffled on her tired ears. "I will fight to the day you cannot and then I will keep fighting. I love you."

"Eric?"

"What?"

"If you love me, take me upstairs. This floor's cold and hard as hell."

Eric smiled fondly and slipped his arms underneath her, lifting her and flitting her upstairs into bed.


"Eric! Eric, please! Eric!"

Sookie was drowning. Her arms thrashing in the dark, depthless water – the fight being drained from her as each breath became more painful to catch. She couldn't keep her head above the water, she was being dragged downwards and she knew she was going to die.

Behind her, Eric could see the flash of something evil forcing her below the surface. The siren shone darkly and perilously, a marker of death in the water. It smiled at him.

I'm going to eat her in mouthfuls. She will scream until the sky tears open. And you couldn't feel less – you're a monster, there's no humanity for you to imitate a human.

"Eric!"

"Sookie." Eric flitted towards the water. If these were her last moments, they would be his too.

"Eric, no!"


Author's Note: I'll be honest, no proof reading went on here. I just wanted to get it published, so please be forgiving. And please review if you can 3