Sorry if this is an awful chapter. I'm horrible at writing sex scenes. Also, rating is now M. Forgot to do it last night but it's done now :)
I inhale sharply. His lips are still ghosting over mine as he continues to ease himself inside me. It hurts and I find that my hands, now resting on his shoulders, are curling into fists. It's only for a moment, though. By the time that he's fully inside of me, the pain has gone and is replaced by a burning desire in the pit of my stomach.
Godric pushes a strand of my hair back and tucks it behind my ear before he starts to move an- oh. Oh god. It feels kind of incredible. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to me so that I can kiss him. This action pulls him forward and thus deeper inside of me. A small moan escapes my lips and my hands curl into fists again, pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. It's out of pleasure this time, though. Not pain.
A low, guttural sound comes from somewhere deep inside him and his movements become a little more forceful.
He hitches one of my legs up and around his waist and thrusts into me again. I arch my back and moan, properly this time, as butterflies explode inside me.
He runs his hands up my sides before placing them, once again, on either side of my head. I feel, rather than see, his hands bunch up into fists. He must be exerting quite a bit of strength because, despite my fixation right now on Godric and Godric only, I hear the fabric beneath his fingers tearing.
I don't know how long we go on for. It feels like hours. He's grazing my jawbone with his teeth - not fangs - and I'm clutching at him and crying out when I feel it building. It's upon me before I have time to comprehend what's happening. Before I know it, I'm arching my back again, clutching the sheets and crying out his name as I climax. It's amazing. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. It's as though everything I feel for him and everything I'm feeling right now has joined together and exploded in a burst of pleasure, leaving my body exhausted, aching and almost certainly bruised
He's not far behind. He's still at my neck, alternating between kissing it and gently grazing it with his teeth when I feel his fangs descend. He pushes himself into me, hard, one last time before he cries out in a very rare momentary loss of control.
I don't know how long we lie there in our post-sex euphoria. It could have been days, I really wouldn't know. I think I even fall asleep at one point. We lie there, motionless with our legs entangled. After a while, Godric props himself up on his elbow and uses his other hand to trail his fingers down the side of my body furthest away from him. When he reaches my hip, he grips it gently and pulls me so that I'm on my side, facing him.
"Are you ok?" He asks me quietly, searching my face for any indication that I might not be.
I nod slowly, still tired.
"You're covered in bruises." He says and I catch the guilt in his tone as he traces the purple marks on my thigh. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." I tell him, my voice cracking from lack of use. I must have been out quite a while. "What time is it?"
"Five."
"Five am?" Wow, it's been like eight hours then since we met outside my building.
"Five in the afternoon." He corrects me. "You slept through the entire day." What? No way. I can't have done! "I didn't want to wake you."
I shift closer to him and he winds his free arm around my waist. He kisses me gently, just once, and I smile. I lift my hand and press it to his cheek and he leans in to my touch. He's still cold. So cold. He goes against all the laws of nature and of science. Surely it should be impossible to live for hundreds of thousands of years, frozen at the age he was turned. Vampires are creatures of fiction and of myth, yet here he is. Here they all are. They're impossible but they exist. I'm so glad that they do, as well. What if Godric had died two thousand years ago and I'd never met him? I can't imagine meeting anyone else and feeling towards them the way I feel about Godric.
Do I love him? I don't know, maybe. I've never been in love before so I don't know what it feels like. I imagine that it feels a lot like this.
"You're so beautiful."
I realise that he's been watching me as I think and I flush. "Thank you." I murmur, looking down and avoiding his gaze.
"How do you feel?" I ask her, watching as her skin gradually returns to it's normal pale hue. She looks exhausted despite the fact that she slept the whole way through the day.
"Tired." She says with a small smile. I return it gently and watch as her eyelids become heavy. I stroke her hair and wait until her breathing is slow and rhythmic before I get up and go in search of something to drink.
I'm stood in the kitchen, a glass of Tru Blood set in front of me, but my mind is not focused on satiating my hunger right now, not when my mind is full of such fresh and delectable memories from last night. It's such a strange feeling to have over two thousand years of experience in, well, everything and still be surprised by the way an eighteen year old girl kisses me. So gentle and at the same time so passionate. Or to feel the desire in the pit of my stomach rear up higher than it's ever gone before in response to the way she cried out and dug her nails into my back every time I'd go deeper. Or just hearing the way her heart flutters every time I look at her.
It's incredible that I'm still able to feel that way.