I opened my eyes to discover the Count had stopped drinking my blood, but the tingling sensation was still going on strong. I was confused. He was looking at me with such passion, such engrossment. I didn't think anything could snap him out of this trace like state, but I didn't want him to. I wanted him to stay here with me, to share this feeling with me. If I could have I would have touched his face and caressed his cheek, but I was unable to move anymore, so I settled with a faint blissful smile. He smiled back at me warmly and lifted his hand to his mouth. Before I knew what he was doing, he slashed a fang across his wrist and we watched fascinated as a stream of blood came flowing from the puncture and dripped onto the floor. I frowned, "What are you doing?" Is what I wanted to say, but instead little groans came out. He put a finger to my lips to silence me and slowly lifted my head so that he could bring the cut to my lips. I was confused even more so and looked toward him for guidance. The Count made a motion for me to drink, so I reluctantly did so. It was odd, to drink someone else's blood. It was warm and fresh, and surprisingly good smelling. Like a rich chocolate or cologne. I didn't really know what to make of it. It just smelled good. The taste, it was different. Almost like a warm creamy sundae that had been blended to perfection and added with just the right amount of salt and sugar. This felt almost as good as what he was doing earlier. The blood made me feel warm inside and I closed my eyes to fully take in the experience. I used all my senses. I could hear the Count's moans of pleasure as I drank from him, they were even louder than before. After listening to them for a few seconds, something strange happened. I could actually feel his moans. Almost like they were traveling through my fingertips into my very core. I could actually feel what I was doing to him, this new sensation I was bringing him. I loved it. Slowly, I began to feel my strength return to me, the tingling intensified and my senses became heightened, my heart was beating stronger, and my strength seemed to increase tenfold. I pulled the Count closer to me as I in turn drank from him and reveled in the fact that I made him feel like a swooning fan girl. I opened my eyes to find the Count watching me drink his blood. I decided to tease him by slowly dragging the tip of my tongue across the cut he had made and lap at it, he shut his eyes and moaned. I did the same but only because he tasted so good. Soon the tingling sensation within me began to die, and when it finally subsided, I reluctantly released his hand and found that the Count still had his eyes closed and had a faint smile on his face, his lips slightly parted. I giggled, quickly covering my mouth to silence myself, but it was too late. He had already opened his eyes.
I hid my giggle with a blank expression. His expression was questioning; I gave him no answer. We stared at each other for what had to be at least five minutes. I just laid there on his lap, my right hand resting on my stomach and my left positioned into a limp fist, resting on his knees. This seemed so weird... So unnatural. I just finished drinking his blood. I would never do that. Wait a minute... It felt like someone had just dumped another bucket of cold water on me. Immediately I pushed myself away from him and stood up against a wall. He did the same, "What-" I cut him off before he could finish, "No, this time I talk and you listen. You killed my family in cold blood, you murdered my friends, took over my neighborhood, destroyed my house, turned everybody into nasty bat things, crushed me, practically raped me and got me to drink your tainted blood. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK COUNT?!" Finally! I raised my hands in the air out of anger and was breathing very heavily. Damn I'm pissed... I gave him the very best glare I could and waited for him to respond to my rant, but there was nothing. He just stared at me with an intensity that kind of freaked me out, like he was trying to read me. Finally he spoke after two minutes of uncomfortable silence, "Why is it that you address me so formally?" I was dumbfounded, "What?!" He asked again, "Why do call me a count?" I looked at him completely confused, "Because you are a count." "Yes, but why do you only address me as 'Count'? Why not address me by name?" Is he bullshitting me?...
