Again, I own neither the lyrics nor the character of David from Lost Boys.
Chapter Three: "You let fantasy become reality"
Deirdra lay tangled in a web of black sheets, still naked from her night of intercourse with David, observing every nuance of the room around her with her vampiric eyes. Her dilapidated surroundings were not impressive, but, with her heightened senses they seemed magnificent in their decay. The furnature alone seemed at least realtively new.
She looked back to the bed, to herself, her extremely pale complexion contrasted by the black sheets. Her hair, now camouflaged on the pillow, had transformed from a mess of dull sable waves into full, glistening, wild jet curls.
She looked over at David sitting on the edge of the bed, smoking a cigarette, and giggled to herself, thinking that she had never felt alive until she had died. She smiled at the irony.
David turned to her, sharing the cigarette and climbing under the sheets with her. He combed back her hair to see his bitemarks on her neck; her last mortal wound, the last scar that would never disappear completely. She smiled and planted a gentle kiss on his own mark, less distinguishable and lower on his neck than hers; closer to his collarbone. His mark was a mystery to her, as he had denied her any information about his own maker.
She put the cigarette out in the ashtray next to the bed as David again moved aloft her. His kisses moved from her neck to the inside of her thighs. She smiled, stretching an arm over her head.
"I'm hungry..." she complained playfully as he kissed around the lower portion of her stomach.
He grinned, rolling off of her and laying on his side next to her.
"It's too late; daylight will come soon," he reasoned. "We'll feed first thing tomorrow."
There was relaxation in his voice. She felt his voice was even more alluring when he wasn't trying to be seductive. She moved closer to him, his arms eager to embrace her.
She lay on her side next to him, his arms keeping her close and his shoulder acting as her pillow. She moved her right arm over his chest, where she could have felt his heartbeat had he been alive. She smiled. His heart no longer beat, but he still breathed. Breathing was a lingering occasional habit for most vampires, he had explained to her, no different from habits acquired and acted out unconsciously by mortals in moments of vehement emotion.
She lifted her head from David's chest to see his eyes closed. She moved her right leg to cover his, allowing her to feel his firm length against her thigh. She looked back to his face for his reaction. Opening his eyes, he raised an eyebrow and gave her an indulgent grin. Smiling and biting her lip, she slid her hand down his smooth, well-defined abdomen, finally moving her leg and gripping his growing arousal. He pushed his head back against the pillow and let out a small moan as she continued to stroke him.
Deirdra derived wondrous pleasure in seeing this creature, so often radiating the very essence of power, now moaning and writhing beneath her; at her mercy.
Abruptly she moved away from him, his eyes opening and a pained expression covering his face. She sat up, straddling him and guiding him inside her. She accepted him easier than before, any pain she may have felt even the second time dissolving along with her mortality. She rode him until she climaxed, the power of it wracking her body so that she couldn't move without making it stronger. Taking control, David rolled them both over so that he, still inside her, was now on top. He thrust into her fiercely and deeply, causing her to immediately arch her back, feeling her second climax approaching. Finally, they both released together, David collapsing next to her.
Deirdra smiled as he laid his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. Her fingers played through his spiky platinum hair and caressed his unshaven face before she herself fell contentedly into sleep.