My fic-wife (Scooterstale) requested more… so, I do what I'm told, yo.

Prompt #37: More

Most vampires tended toward atheism in their religious beliefs. Or at least agnosticism.

It just made more sense for us, you see.

Bearing in mind that we were immortals for all intents and purposes, already at the very top of the proverbial food chain, and were lacking in virtually nothing, for many of us, the concept of Heaven had little appeal. Frankly, it didn't net us any real gains.

Of course, that would be assuming that we'd be allowed inside the Pearly Gates to begin with.

Which, let's be blunt here, was more than likely… not an option.

Especially seeing as how we vampires were pretty much… the spawn of Satan himself. Seriously, no use arguing. Just look up my recent diatribe on vampire/human morality and rules. Pretty sure blood-sucking murderous monsters weren't exactly on the "Good List".

And Hell? You know, that place with the gnashing of teeth and weeping and lakes of sulfur and perpetual darkness and everlasting fire, yeah, no one in their right mind actually wanted to go to Hell.

Hence, for most of us, it was just easier and less stressful believing the whole religion-thing didn't exist. And again, since we were immortals that worked out just fine.

Except… now, I wasn't quite so sure about all of that.

Why?

Because never, not once in my entire one hundred plus years of breathing, had I experienced this kind of sheer, blinding, soul-consuming joy.

See, this had to be Heaven.

There was no other word for it.

Which meant there was a God after all.

So call me a believer.

Having my mate's burning hot lips willingly moving against mine, having her fingernails scraping across the back of my neck as she pulled me closer, having her knees squeeze my hips… it was something akin to the Rapture, and every single part of me vibrated with the sense of utter rightness and pleasure of it.

With each soft brush of her lips, my Isabella's heart pounded inside of her chest, sending exquisite, echoing shockwaves through my limbs and down my spine. With every touch, her heat, as hot as an inferno, seeped into my skin, warming me into something better than the cold, dead creature that I was. And with each passing second, the whine of her blood flowing through her veins, high pitched and singing, became the most erotic, alluring sound I'd ever heard.

As much as I should have been a gentleman, as much as I knew that I should have pushed her away since she'd obviously had a screw come loose sometime in the last two hours, I just… couldn't.

I didn't have that kind of self-control.

Instead, my fists uncurled and flew from the relative safety of my pockets to the soft, gentle, dangerous curves of my mate's hips, where my fingers intuitively splayed out, framing her and pulling her closer until she sat just on the edge of the rock. Instead, I slanted my mouth over hers, opening my lips ever so slightly, just enough that when she breathed out I could taste the incredible sweetness. And instead, when she swept her warm, wet tongue out across my lower lip, mine was instantly there to meet it.

"You taste good too," my Isabella whispered as her hands dropped back down to my abdomen and sneaked beneath the hem of my shirt to find bare skin.

I groaned… loudly… because she had no idea what that felt like.

None. At. All.

So lost in the sensation of her hands and lips and heart and smell and the drug that was just her, I wasn't prepared for when my love's ankles locked together behind my back and her arms tightened around my neck. What little remained of my good sense completely vanished, and I reacted without thinking, purely on instinct. Never parting from the Heaven that was my Isabella's mouth, in a blur of vampire speed, I lifted her such that her chest was flush and tight against mine and I moved us both further onto the rock so that I could gently lay her down.

I placed as much weight as I dared on her fragile frame, and beneath me, my love's heart beat a frantic rhythm that sped with each stroke of my tongue against hers. Completely transfixed by the perfection of her face – the high cheekbones now dusted pink, the arcs of her brows, the pale, delicate lavender of her closed eyelids – I kissed her until she panted into my mouth. Pulling away only long enough for her to breathe, incapable of stopping myself, I ran my fingertips along her jaw to her chin, and finally to the thumping pulse point, marveling at the softness and warmth. When I pressed my lips to her there on her throat – soft and closed-mouthed – Isabella's eyes shot wide, so dark and lovely, and her hands stole to my scalp where she gripped and tugged on my hair, pulling me back to her mouth to start all over again.

And when my mate's thighs tightened around my middle, there was absolutely no part of me that didn't react, and before I could even contemplate stopping, my hips involuntarily rocked against her most feminine of places.

She was the one who made a whimpering noise this time.

Okay, fine, maybe I did too.

PROMPT #38?

Let's do this again… say Mon/Tues. We'll do some plot stuff. Must move forward and all that silliness. ;)

Oh, and before anyone calls me on it, I've never been fond of the whole "no tongue thing" in canon. So… um, I like to ignore that little detail and pretend venom's only a risk if directly injected into the bloodstream. I think most will agree that it's more fun that way.