A/N: Holy crow, people! (As I believe Sookie might say--or is that Bella? Sorry, I get my vampire girls confused sometimes.) Three chapters on one night. I guess it was an important one, huh? It's also shorter because, really, how much more could these two do in one night? Next chapter should be fun. Hope you enjoy, and please comment! I love reading your reviews!

Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns these characters. I just put them in compromising and angsty positions.

Chapter 14: I Am Yours

Eric's POV

My beautiful girl. My beautiful, surprising girl, I thought as I nuzzled into her delectable neck. She shrugged a little and her heartbeat raced and I knew that she would be wet when I finally touched between her soft, healed thighs.

But not just yet.

Right now, I needed to bite her, devour her, take every part of her into me, she was so alive. My instincts warred inside me, a sensation growing uncomfortably familiar in regard to this warm, breakable human. I smiled against her neck. Something more than human. A sort of a supe, the doctor had said. Indeed. I wondered what sort, what magic had created this fierce, tender creature under me. Despite my need to have her totally, I was compelled to hold her tenderly, gently, cradle her and massage her with my lips and hands, as she had just done me. My muscles ached with the contradiction.

My mind flashed: This human's mouth on my stomach, my neck, my knuckles. Weeping for her own pain, of course, but mine as well. Some part of me wanted to destroy her just now, to end this uncomfortable sense of bareness before her. But a greater part--a part long buried--wanted, no, needed, to thank her. To protect her. To serve her.

In my long existence, I could never have imagined sharing my early vampire experience with a human. So many were worthless bloodbags, seeing me only as a fantasy, as fangs and a bang--when they could see me at all, when they were not mesmerized by my glamour. They had neither chosen those experiences nor did I care for them to recall them. I hardly desired the memory--only the brief relief of physical needs.

And never would they... I groaned against my bonded's neck, growing harder still... Never would they understand battle, understand or care or want to know that the indestructible warrior before them had nearly met the sun after just 50 years as a vampire. That I had been as foolish and as reckless as any newborn vampire. That I had nearly forsaken my existence to stupidity and the viciousness of a world I was only then beginning to understand.

I felt myself lashed down to that rock again for the second time this night. The sensation had entirely escaped me for centuries until I recounted it for Sookie earlier. And I only did that to test Pam's asinine theory. Even then, I sought only to curry her favor, only to make her mine completely.

If I had known how it would affect me, I might not have spoken. I might have simply taken her and distracted her from her pain. I had not known then that instead of winning her, it would make me hers, completely and utterly.

Internally, I struggled against the constraints of my feelings for her. But outwardly, I simply reached for her mouth with my own.

This mouth, I thought as I sucked her bottom lip between mine and teased it with my fangs. Soft as feathers, as if this body needed or deserved such gentleness. As if it hadn't healed a thousand times in as many years. A mother's loving touch. A lover's. A mate's. An equal's.

Love.

Sookie always surprised me, but this act of kindness was startling. I gazed at my lover, pulling her warm body to me tightly, growling against her ear, needing her more. Lost. I am lost.

I did not understand her intentions when she removed my shirt. I thought only that she was giving herself to me, that Pam's suggestion had worked like a charm.

When I had finally comprehended, I had laughed and attempted a joke. I should have known that nothing would distract her from her single purpose. Nothing had. She was determined to honor my body. I shivered in memory. Tenderness and understanding from a human girl. Unexpected. Unbelievable.

And then... Then she had taken me in her mouth, more fully. Not glamoured, not seeking anything but... What had that look been in her eye? Tenderness, certainly. Lust, assuredly. Protectiveness, surprisingly.

Love, I was sure of it.

She had worked my cock with a fervor that made me smile even now. My gums ached with the extension of my fangs, my throat dry and stomach clinched, needing her blood in me. Her mouth was so much better than even my keen vampire memory could conjure, sliding, sucking, working my cool, turgid flesh. Those eyes, dark blue, softer than I had ever seen them, commanding me and she pleasured me, giving and taking at once. It was hard to believe she had had so few lovers.

She closed those gorgeous eyes as I brushed my lips across them, allowing her long lashes to tickle along them. Oh, her hands. I brought one up and kissed it, sucking on her fingertips, fighting the urge to prick them and suck just a drop of her, and eliciting a soft sighs. An amuse bouche indeed. Every part of her, humming with life. I needed all of her.

I growled lowly as I sucked and licked down her jawline to her shoulder, rubbing her sweat-cooled breast with my thumb. She was shaking, and now I was sure that it was from pleasure. She rolled her head back, exposing her neck for more worship. I obliged.

I shifted and cradled her to me, kissing down the front of her throat to the little divot in her clavicle, enjoying the feel of her breath rasping in and out of her throat as her arousal grew. I had been in this position many times before. It would take very little to bite down and crush her windpipe. She would never speak my weakness then. But instead I kissed and was reassured by the breath pulsing in and out of her.

She had not spoken since I had gathered her to me, after she had given me the gift of her mouth. She seemed contented. She may still deny it, but in this moment she was mine. Mine. I growled again.

And she knew.... She knew the pain I had suffered. She knew it intimately and recently and she did not waver. I found now that I trusted Sookie with the information and the feelings, however tentatively. She is loyal and responsible. She would not use it to weaken me, and I believed that if she were ever in the position to be forced to do it, she would suffer pain rather than relinquish the information. Even to my mind, accustomed as it was to Sookie's character, this realization rattled my inner resolve. I was nearly as confident in her as I was in myself.

"Sookie," I rasped. "Incredible."

I felt her grow hotter under my gaze. Her blush was furious.

I held her eyes and began unbuttoning her offending garments. I much preferred the age when women were required to wear skirts. But there were quite a lot of undergarments to consider in those days. Such a bother. Or, thinking back further, linen and wool bunched up in my hands, soft thighs laying on furs. Ugh. Sookie on a pelt, my hand slipping up her thighs. I kissed her hard on the lips, pressing my tongue into her eager mouth aggressively and tugged her zipper down.

"Tell me, lover," I breathed against her mouth as she shimmied up off of me as we both worked to shed her of her jeans. She kicked her legs inelegantly, freeing herself of the fabric, and my hand found her bottom again, pulling her close, my fingers drumming along the soft flesh there. Mmm. To bite there. Again.

"Uhh?" was all Sookie managed. Yes. Mine.

"What do you like best?"

Sookie's body rocked with pleasure and she let out a surprised laugh. "Eric!" she sputtered, looking at me with half-unfocused eyes. "I'm not telling you that! What you're doing is just fine."

I laughed throatily against her ear at the implication and she shivered. I would remind her of that later.

I licked along her ear. "Oh, dear heart," I chuckled. "I would like to know very much how you would like for me to arouse you." I ran my fingers under the lace of her panties at her hip. "But what I mean to ask is, you enjoy dancing, I know. You enjoy the sun. You enjoy long hot showers." This I punctuated by pulling her head back and running my fangs along her jugular. Her shiver pleased me. "But there must be more."

I stroked my fingers in slow circles along her thighs.

Her head shot up and she looked at me, the blood pumping alluringly to her surface.

"If I am to... woo..." at this I dipped my fingers under the lace of her panties, caressing her soft fur, "... you, I must know your preferences."

She let out a strangled moan that delighted me. I did it again to elicit that sound and she did not disappoint. She smiled at me giddily, passion flashing in her eyes. She lunged forward and I felt the whole of her press against me as he kissed me hard, licking my fang fearlessly.

"Tell me," I whispered into her mouth, undeterred. My fingers dipped to the front of her panties, running softly over her hair there, massaging a little, dropping lower.

"I... uh... I like to... to read," she panted. I dipped into her again and again, because I could. Because she was mine.

Her slickness and her scent made my senses sharper and I greedily sucked in the sound and feel and smell of her. Combination with the wood in the fireplace, it was very pleasing indeed.

"You prefer a specific author?" I asked, tearing her panties away from her, wishing to be done with the inconvenient fabric.

She panted, staring into my eyes. I felt her body grow hotter, her mouth slack and fluttering with every strained breath. So beautiful.

I slowed my ministrations for a moment and she looked up at me. I raised an eyebrow to urge her to answer.

"Anne... Anne Mallory or... oh... Patricia Cornwell..." she sighed, twisting her head to the side to suck my shoulder. The sensation rippled out from there across my body like a pebble on a pond. "Whatever... oh... Whatever I find at the library--romance novels or mysteries."

She breathed all this into my shoulder and her hot breath made me groan.

I leaned in and nuzzled her hair. Such a gift when she is like this. "What else?"

Her breathing labored when I slipped one finger and then a second into her.

"Ah," she groaned, curling to meet my fingers. "Yes."

She sprawled in my lap, spreading her legs and adjusting herself to offer herself to me completely. She reached a hand up and caressed my face, where I had been slashed, and for a moment I felt the deep cut of the knife in my flesh. I flinched but then looked down at her, something growing deep inside me that would demand attention very soon. I wanted to fuck her until she couldn't move, and then give her my blood and take her again. My chest rumbled with the need.

I bore into her with my eyes, communicating my need without words. I plunged my fingers in deeply, twisting and curling them at the end, eliciting a deep groan from Sookie. She began moving on my fingers and I moved along with her, driving her and responding to her. Glowing in the firelight, her eyes on me with effort, she was fantastic.

"Exquisite," I murmured to her and I plunged another finger into her, bringing her to rise off my lap in surprise. My thumb came down on her nub and circled it lightly and then more directly as we moved. Her face was a canvas, and across it I saw her desire, her fierceness, her fear, her tenderness for me. I saw how much she wanted this--not just the physical act, but to be close to me, to be connected.

And then she did the thing that I loved almost more than anything else her remarkable body could muster. She let out an aggravated, desperate cry and then tore her eyes from me, exposing the soft expanse of her neck to me. An offering. Her pulse point throbbed quickly, in time with the thrusts of my fingers and my eyes tracked it as Sookie continued to writhe under me, moving herself to get the perfect angle. I licked my lips, my mouth parched. I moved my hand lower and then up, changing my angle to hit her spot perfectly.

She shouted in relief and pleasure.

"Oh, oh, oh!" she sobbed as her body arched under me, pressing my hand into her more deeply.

When she was ready, I leaned down and licked at her pulse, feeling it dance under my tongue. She was more erotic, more perfect than she could know. A strangled sob of pleasure came from her throat just then. I rubbed my fangs along her vein and shivered at the sensation. It spread down my neck to my shoulders and then rippled throughout my body in a divine echo. Sookie's breathing became more faint and came more quickly. I could feel it under my lips. Yes, just here. Just at the precipice. My Sookie. My beautiful girl. My warrior. My Bonded,I thought with some sadness. Mine.

"You want this, Sookie."

Her heat was licking its way into me and I couldn't help buck my hips with the wild writhing of hers. I groaned. She was perfect, so I said it.

She just groaned. "Yes," she breathed with effort, nodding her head frantically. "Please. Oh... Oh... Oh... Please."

I love her, I thought as I plunged my fangs into her glorious veins and her warm blood swirled around my tongue. The sensation of it clouded my mind and I pressed into her harder and suddenly I had her on her back, on the ground and I was entering her, my face still in her neck, still pulling lightly on the wound, sipping from her.

But she--she was not subtle. She was roaring with orgasm as I felt it clamp down on my cock for the first time this night. Her pussy pulled me into her and the friction as I withdrew was intense and demanding. With a slight buck of my hips I was buried into her completely. I needed her. I needed her heat, her strength, her love.

So I took it. No time tonight to savor the warm, wet feel of her on my cock. No time for slow exploration. I thrust into her and I felt alive in her presence. Her orgasm still gripped her, and she was arching and contracting against me as I licked her neck closed and plunged into her again and again. Her heels dug into my bottom and fingernails dug into my shoulders. She was pulling me, demanding that I push myself into her deeply. I pulled my head up from the hot aroma of her neck and clasped her head in my hand.

Petting her hair away from her sweat-slicked face as I pressed into her again, I rubbed my thumb over her lips before taking them, too.

And then I caught her eyes with me. "My lover," I growled, holding her gaze. She was wild, not recovered from her last release and building toward another, her mouth reaching for something to bite, to suck. This one thing I denied her. I had to see her. I needed her to see me.

I continued to stroke into her, continued to relish the feel of her under me and around me, and her scent, but my eyes were focused in on hers. I held them, shaking her head gently whenever they threatened to glaze over. She would not hide from me, not now. For the first time in centuries, I sought to be brave in a new way, to allow her to see my feelings on my face. I held her eyes and felt rough and fierce and the intensity of my love for her overwhelm me. It welled, a different sensation than the orgasm that was growing in me. It made me shudder with force and sent a rumbling snarl ripping from my chest. I was taking long, deep, fast strokes now and she was angling her hips and grunting along with me. She was magnificent.

The pleasure of seeing her face abandoned of its pretense, devoid of her rage and defenses, flushed with passion and power, added to my craving for her. There was still tenderness there from earlier and my body remembered her kissing it, remembered her gentleness and understanding and clinched in the knowledge. I rutted into her a little harder and she bucked.

"Ah!" she groaned.

Yes. Mine.

I could tell she was close again and I was nearly there myself. Her pupils were completely dilated, her head arched back though her eyes still sought mine. I could almost smile. Even now, even so close to complete abandon, she was challenging me. Brave girl. It made me twitch inside her.

I leaned in, still holding her eyes and bit her lip just hard enough to puncture it with my fang. I sucked it and her lip into my mouth. That was all it took. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she arched completely, grasping onto me inside and out, coming for me, so strongly and so long that she took me under with her. I felt myself begin to quake and squeezed my own eyes shut, burying my face into her hair and closing the small gap that still existed between our bodies. A roaring blew through my mind as I continued to stroke into her full speed, one release not enough for me. I would not let her go. Not now, not ever. I kept going, holding onto her for some connection to the real world, feeling her rippling with pleasure and building again as I built again also.

The rush of wind in my head grew again, obliterating all thought, and I could hear my bonded sobbing underneath me as we both crossed the precipice together, crying out, abandoning ourselves completely. I slowed my thrusts, enjoying the wet sounds of us, enjoying the feel of her pleasure shuddering through her and echoing in me.

I kissed her face all over, urgently.

Mine. Always. Alway. Mine.

And then a new thought: Please.

I held her like this for a long while, enjoying the after effects of her orgasm rippling through her and clinching onto me from the inside. She milked out every last bit of me into her. I curled her close to me, pressing her breasts and belly against me as I shivered with the after effects of my own orgasm.

I nuzzled her ear as her hands floated over my back, one settling on the spot where the sword had pierced through. Holding it. Only holding it. Nothing more. I shivered under her hand and pulled her closer. Never would I give this up. Not until the sun shone on my face again. I pressed into her absently, not wanting to let go.

****

"Movies," she said finally, with a soft sigh and a relieved laugh.

Her breathing was back to normal, but that did not mean I intended to release her.

I moved to look at her. I raised an eyebrow in question.

"I like movies," she said, a sated, tired smile on her face. "And music." She struggled to reach a hand up and I allowed it. She caressed my face and laughed softly. I did not understand her amusement, but kissed her anyway. When I leaned up to break the kiss finally, her head followed mine and stubbornly refused to release my lips. I cradled her head, extending the kiss. Her body reacted from the inside out, and I felt a tug on my cock. Finally she broke away and took a deep breath in.

"You are beautiful," I said, staring into her deep blue eyes. Her eyes wavered. She wanted to look away. But I held her there and saw the discomfort on her face. Confounding.

When she didn't say anything, I added, "Tell me."

For a moment she just looked at me confused, her eyebrows furrowed in an endearing way. Then she started speaking, telling me of the films she enjoyed, the music, singers and actors she loved and how some of these movies or songs were associated with specific moments in her young life. I wondered which songs reminded her of us.

After a long few minutes of talking, she began to wiggle out of my embrace.

"It's getting cold," she said by way of explanation and I finally left her body, handing her my robe, which she shrugged into sexily. I felt my cock twitch and I knew she saw it by the way her face blushed.

I smiled greedily.

"Oh no you don't," she said, edging away from me. "You might be able to go all night, but I'm still human. I need to rest. And maybe eat."

This would not be the final word on the matter, but I would permit the break. I smirked at her but nodded, moving to add a few more logs to the fire. It was then that I noticed that it was already 3 in the morning, and that Sookie may be more prudent than I realized. She would need to eat another meal and sleep, much as I'd prefer to keep her pinned to the floor here or her bed all night. Then I remembered how she'd reacted to being pinned and moved to her side, kissing her hands and wrists softly. I did not wish for her to be over-exhausted tomorrow night. She would need her strength for our first date.

I chuckled at the thought. Who thought I would ever have a proper first date? The gods must be laughing.

I stood and pulled her up with me. But she wobbled a little and then winced in pain.

"Ow!" Her face went very pale.

"Lover?" I pulled the robe aside and looked her over. Her body appeared in tact--more than in tact. I worried for the first time this night about her healing stitches and pussy. Had I injured her?

She smiled at me through her discomfort. "I... I don't think it's anything serious," she said through clinched teeth. "Let's just say I might be walking funny tomorrow."

She tried to smile up at me but failed.

I looked at her askance. And then I understood as she shifted uncomfortably in front of me, rubbing her thighs together.

I could not repress the feral excitement this gave me and I let out a loud, satisfied laugh. I pulled her to me and looked her in the eye as I bit into my finger with a flourish. Snaking it down between the open robe I began rubbing my finger around and into her. She leaned against me and caught her breath. She felt... slick and swollen and perfect. As I traced her, she let out a coo.

"Eric," she said in warning. She'd meant what she'd said before and I did not doubt it. I also did not seek to injure her more or be the cause of any more of her distress tonight. Still, I found myself lacking in self discipline. I brought my finger back up to my mouth and sucked, savoring her taste. I bit again, releasing a little more of my blood and slipped it inside her before she could protest.

"You must be well, my lover," I said, almost a moan as I felt her inner walls begin to ripple against me. I found the spot, the sore, torn area, and rubbed it carefully and thoroughly. In a moment I began to feel it closed and slippery in the way of all scars. I lowered my head to her breast and sucked it softly. Her breathing became erratic. I cherished the sound.

Then I straightened up and regretfully removed myself from her, my desire obvious. Sookie slumped against me, a shocked gasp escaping her lips. I ran my hands over the robe, and her breasts underneath, and closed it in a quick snap, tying it deftly.

"All better?" I asked, smirking at the shocked expression on her face.

She looked at me with need but I saw anger flare to her surface. Her eyes were lustful and angry and hurt that I'd done as she wished. I repressed a laugh, just a twitch of my lips betraying me. She stood up straight and pulled the robe more tightly around her, lowering her head for an unconscious sniff of the fabric. Then I did laugh. I folded my arms over my chest triumphantly.

"Yes, I'm just fine now," she said icily, and pushed past me toward her bedroom, the long robe trailing behind her.

****

Sandra Bullock, I typed into my computer's search engine. I had a long list of Sookie's preferences to investigate--Mariah Carey, Shania Twain, Beyonce, Carrie Underwood, the aforementioned actress, the Pussycat Dolls, among others--and decide how best to begin my wooing of my telepath.

I was in the middle of investigating this actress's films--one seemed particularly promising for my Sookie's tastes and experiences--when my computer beeped and an email appeared on the screen.

Master,

Here are the columns you requested, as well as the list of holidays.

I hope our succulent telepath is healing well.

Pam

I smiled at how well she was healing--and how I had helped to heal her tonight. My fingers itched at the memory, and I allowed myself a chuckle at her reaction to my sudden withdrawal from her earlier. I scanned through the holidays. Most I had heard of: Halloween, Christmas, New Year's Eve, Easter, various solstices. And then there were the more obscure ones: Secretary's Day? Groundhog Day? Mother's Day? Father's Day? Grandparents Day? I honor my ancestors, but this seemed absurd, especially for my Bonded, who had been abandoned by her family quite young.

Valentine's Day.

This one nagged at me. Hadn't Dear Abby made a point to highlight this one? I opened another tab in my web browser and began investigating the holiday. Feb. 14.

Curious.

A Christian saint, somehow come to be seen as patron saint of lovers. A day traditionally celebrated with confectionary, flowers, romantic gifts and notes between lovers. Occasionally jewelry. Well, I knew what Sookie would think of that, so I ignored it and did a search for Valentine's Day gifts.

Then I began scanning through the list of 30 attachments my child sent me, seeking suggestions for Valentine's Day.

One seemed particularly apt.

DEAR ABBY--I am an avid reader and hope you can educate me on how best to celebrate Valentine's Day with my human. I am 507 years old, and have no recollection of this saint or his significance, but my human has begun to ask me questions about what he can do to please me on this meaningless holiday. I understand it is customary for the male to court the female in this situation, but honestly, I have no need for such formalities. It is quite enough that he shares his bed and blood with me. I have long since ceased caring about flowers (few bloom at night), and I am quite capable of buying myself any jewelry or lingerie I desire. What must I tell this human to keep him satisfied?

MISS ROMANTIC

DEAR MISS: Well, aren't you a human man's dream! A lady who couldn't care less about this holiday, that is more and more becoming a so-called greeting-card holiday. And you don't want fancy gifts! I bet you have human men beating a path to your door. (I mean that figuratively, Miss Vampire--please don't take this as license to beat the humans at your door.)

Honestly, if the holiday means nothing to you, there's no reason to celebrate. Tell your man to simply come over and have a good time with you and that'll suffice. But before you do that, think about it: You might have found the one human man with a romantic streak, and it might make him happy if you agreed to something. Do your part and ask him.

Then if it turns out that he really wants to celebrate, I say there isn't enough love in the world. Go for it! Think about something he might be able to offer that you can't or won't buy for yourself. I know there may not be much, but try this exercise: Is there anything he could give you that would remind you of him when he is not present? A photo or a token that might mean nothing to the vampire next door but might resuscitate your still heart? If so, allow him the pleasure of offering it to you.--ABBY.

I reread the column. I would not tell Pam, but this Abby is canny. My Sookie (it stung too much just now to think of her as my Bonded, knowing what I know how of her feeling about our bond) is not vampire and I wouldn't allow myself to think of how spectacular she would be as one, but she is similarly uninterested in jewelry. And I found that I quite enjoyed the prospect of giving her something to remind her of me during my daytime rest.

I did a little more research, making a list as I went. I sent some emails and then stowed my computer under Sookie's bed, before making a quick jaunt around the house. Soon, I was back in bed and I turned to my little warrior resting soundly next to me. I spooned behind her, enjoying her breathing even as the pull of dawn was dragging me toward that little hole in the ground. I grunted in displeasure. We would need to begin moving on the light-tight room shortly. I dislike rising without her, I realized with a start. I had spent centuries rising alone, and happy. But this night, the prospect of leaving my... my Bonded for my daytime rest left me irritable as if I had not in fact fed from her luscious neck just hours earlier.

I placed an arm around her and took an unnecessary breath of her scent. She smelled enticing--the lingering scent of sex and my own scent mingling with her pronounced and unique smell. I wished she would continue to allow her body hair to grow--it had lengthened in our month apart, a fact that no doubt would horrify her if she knew I noticed. Modern human women were so silly about such things. If she only knew that unshaven women's scent could clung to them even more fully. Instead, with a bare body, that magnificent scent sloughed off once released from their pores. More's the pity. I pulled her close, thinking, enjoying, remembering.

You are adventurous, I had once told her. I chuckled against her. Always surprising, always courageous. I kissed the nape of her neck and heard the beating of her heart accelerate. I prayed to the gods that she would be well when I rose.

And now for a new adventure: The wooing of Miss Sookie Stackhouse.

A/N: I have to ask: I think I know what Eric's going to get her, but I'd love to hear what you think he should give her. Lay it on me!