Again, I own neither the lyrics nor the character of David from Lost Boys.
Chapter Two: "Just one drop and I'll give you eternity"
The darkness lifted from Deirdra's mind, and for a moment, she was completely devoid of thought. She slowly began to observe her alien surroundings. Light was scarce and her mortal eyes struggled to discern shapes in the blackness. She felt the chilled air of the room on her legs, realizing her fishnets and boots no longer protected her.
As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she determined she was on a chaise lounge, or some kind of sofa akin to one. She sat up, immediately wishing she hadn't as a wave of dizziness hit her. So he didn't kill her. She was still alive, she was still mortal.
Worry crept up on her like a predator. What if he wasn't what he'd claimed to be? What if? No, there was no what if. She closed her eyes, fighting back tears. She cursed herself for her stupidity, her trust.
Suddenly she felt his hand on her neck. Cold as death.
She felt cold lips against her ear. "Don't fear me, Deirdra..."
Slowly she turned to face him, confronting his exquisite features, embellished by the new apparition of candlelight.
"Don't doubt me, either. I'm everything you've hoped me to be."
Here, so close to him, complete silence surrounding them, she was able to truly hear his voice. Like his beauty, his voice was omnipotent. He seemed to emit every emotion at once, yet he was perfectly tranquil. Any doubts she may have had to his vampiric claims had now evaporated.
She opened her mouth to speak, suddenly realizing that she had yet to learn his name. The question had barely entered her mind when it was answered; her own thoughts were subdued and replaced by one thought which he gave to her: David.
Her eyes continued to drink in his beauty as her mind pulled in millions of directions. He followed what thoughts he could, catching a glimpse of an impatient, awestruck lust and acting on it.
He pulled her closer, one hand tangling itself in her hair as the other hand moved first to her stomach, then around to her back, slowly caressing the tight fabric shielding her body from him. His kisses moved from her neck to the exposed portion of her chest, back to her neck, across her jawline, and finally concluding as his lips met hers. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside her mouth. An emotion that she was unable to define washed over her.
She'd 'made out' with guys before, though none of her 'relationships' ever lasted long. Of course, some were better than others, but what she felt now was inexplicable. There was a patient eagerness in the way he kissed her, painfully slow but still too fast for her to truly savour.
He continued to scan her thoughts as he explored her; kissing any portion of exposed flesh he could find. The kisses stopped as he found something in her mind that he hadn't expected. She was trying to hide it, and emotions which are attempted to contain are always the most obvious. He met her eyes with uncertainty and questioning. She looked away. She was barely nineteen, and she was a virgin.
His mind struggled with a slowly developing conscience as he looked away from her. He had been her age when he was given the Dark Gift. She had barely experienced the life he was planning to take from her. He felt the emotions she was trying to project to him. Thoughts she was too embarrassed to speak aloud.
She touched his face, the first time she'd touched him, and he turned to meet her eyes. This time she moved to kiss him, continuing to let her emotions run free so he could absorb them. Slowly her fingers moved under the collar of his trenchcoat, and over his shoulders, removing the heavy jacket. She trailed her hands down his now bare arms, observing his flawless pale skin, which was no longer cold, but had begun to warm at her touch. Her hands moved down his sides and under the hem of his black shirt, pulling it over his head and letting it drop to the floor on top of his coat.
His eyes moved hungrily over her, assimilating her foreign, mortal beauty, the beauty he would soon take from her and replace with an egregiousness that was all too familiar. His mind let go of these thoughts to focus on her now. Before he took her life he would take her virginity, this virginity which she kept telling him in her mind was a curse to her. She thought him a saviour; he would be her first and only companion, in life and in death. He could never leave her.
She continued removing his clothes, taking off his belt and moving teasing hands around his waist, sliding her fingertips just barely beneath the fabric of his black jeans and feeling the warmth of his skin.
He pulled her face up to his; meeting her lips. His kiss was deep; he continued to show her emotions which before that night she had never been able to comprehend. He moved his kisses to her neck, as her fingers continued to linger with the buttons of his jeans.
Abruptly, he ended their kiss and stood up, moving her with him to the bed. Reaching his destination, he removed her top, and gently placing her on the bed, showered the newly exposed skin with kisses. He slipped off her skirt, and finally removed her undergarments. Now fully exposed to him, she sat up, at last unbuttoning his jeans.
Kicking off his pants, he pushed her back onto the bed, climbing on top of her. Playfully, she retreated out from under him, pushing back the black sheets of the bed and crawling under them. Grinning, he followed her, anxious to remove the last infuriating barrier between them.
Deirdra reveled in the weight of David's unclothed body on top of her, a sensation she'd been waiting years to feel. She closed her eyes, loving the feel of him between her legs, as he kissed and nipped teasingly at her neck. She drew her legs around him, finally prompting him to enter her. Her breath caught in her throat and her back arched as he moved slowly inside her, trying not to cause her pain. She dug her short nails into his flesh as, finally, he filled her. When he felt she was ready he slowly pulled slightly out of her, then pushed back in. His movements became faster as he felt her readiness for them. It wasn't long before they both lay spent, climax coming sooner than both would have liked through the tension and elevated passion of a first time.
Feeling her eyes on him, he turned, smiling, to her. He felt her satisfaction, though still with an underlying apprehensiveness. He moved over her again, asking her with his mind, with his eyes, if she was truly ready. She told him in the same manner that she was.
Reopening the wound on her neck he'd made earlier that night, he began to take her blood, this time to kill her rather than to simply render her unconsious. When he'd taken enough of her life, he cut his own wrist, allowing her to drink from him.