A/N: Okay, I totally have to go bake cookies for a thing right now so I don't have time to answer any reviews but just know I live for them and please, please, please keep. Them. Up.

LEMONS WARNING!


Chapter 25: Take Me to Church

I've had dreams like this before. Dreams of someone's cool breath skating over the cozy heat of my neck, the vulnerable skin where my baby hairs are. Dreams of a strong hand teasing along my side, calluses abrading my thighs. I had dreams like these when Eric's blood was in me, fever dreams induced by my half-crazed subconscious, ravenous to sink my teeth into the Viking.

It would always start with the feel of his breath and then slowly, the deeper I succumbed to sleep, the feel of his fingers and then his chest, his voice, his eyes. Slowly, I would drift away and into his arms.

But this is different.

I gasp, clutching at the creamy sheets under me as my mind blurs between the dream and the sudden reality of my life. Sometime after I went to sleep, he brought us to the bed. The light in the large room is dimmed, a single lamp casting the room in a low glow.

"Can't get enough of you," Eric growls against my shoulder, one of his hands shifting through the wild mess of my hair, holding it away from my neck. The sudden prick of his teeth along my skin makes me moan, sleep drifting away, leaving behind ravenous hunger. "I need you more - how is that even possible? What witchcraft have you cast on me, you beautiful mare?"

How do I answer that? For a moment, I try and force a coherent word past my lips which ends in a strangled moan as his teeth pinch into the skin of my nape - never cutting skin but bruising. A torture that I'm sure he's feeling from the moan that builds through his abs and rumbles across my back. He's teasing himself - drawing out his own agony at the thought of my blood just below that delicate layer of skin.

"I-I can't answer when you're-" I bit back a whimper as his fingers tighten in my hair, a delicious sting building across my scalp. I've never liked men towing me around by my hair. Very few have actually tried and of the ones that have, they've almost gotten their hands bitten off. But things with Eric - they work. Trust I realize, my body catching fire even more at the unfamiliar word. I trust him with my body, to take care of me. I just didn't know that such a simple thing could lead to me feeling like my whole being is balancing on the edge of a knife.

I'm wet again, I realize, heat burning across my face as his free hand scrapes along my hips. Against my back, I feel the muscles of his chest roll in a groan, his fingers squeezing down onto my ass.

"What kind of creature are you?" A cry - half pleasure, half surprise - as I feel the sharp scrape of his teeth against my shoulder. Blindly, I reach back, my fingers scraping along the bulging muscles of his shoulder, along his corded neck until they finally hook into the strands of hair at his nape. I need something to anchor me, something to hold onto as he gives an agonized curse, one of his big hands hooking under my knee so that he can drag it up and over his hip, opening me completely. My whole body tingles at the feel of his, his cock dragging along my folds from behind. I want him so bad that I could scream.

This must be a sort of madness. In my chest, I could feel an odd bubble starting to bloom, expanding until I could barely breathe without his fingers pressing into my thighs or his lips on my shoulder. I wanted him like a fire wanted gasoline. Like water wanted to devour the land. I wanted him like the moon wanted to kiss the sun.

"Are you sore?" His fangs pricked along my nape again, digging in for a moment before he seemed to force himself away with an agonized groan. The hand in my hair and on my thigh, dug in in rhythmic kneads like he was trying to control himself from rolling me onto my knees and just taking me.

God, that thought got me even hotter. My nipples and abdomen twisted with painful need. "No - Please, Eric."

"Duktig flicka. Needy little thing." Tears of relief pricked along my lids as I feel his cock slowly sink into me, my walls clamping around him needily. Was it pathetic that I loved the feel of him so much? His answering grunt reverberates along my nape, his hand hitching my leg higher along his waist as he grinds against me. "Fuck. I thought it would be different the second time but you're still as tight and wet as the first."

Why did that harsh whisper turn me on so much? My nails dig further into his hair, my free hand reaching up to curl around the wrist of the hand that still tangled in my own hair. He's so big that I can feel my walls struggling to take him even as he saws back into me, the muscles of his thighs bunching beneath my toes. Maybe that's part of the charm, I realize dizzily. I've never taken anyone as big as him and now I think I'm losing my mind.

"Så bra." The words are half agony, half prayer, his lips dragging along the shell of my ear as he continues to thrust into me. My mind blurs between the feeling of his skin along mine and some other space that's made up of need. What had the mares said about the Vikings when I had listened to them so many years ago? That they worshipped us, worshipped our savagery, prayed to our darkness.

A sharp cry burst from me as he fucks into me, the fingers in my hair tightening for a moment before he's moving that big hand down to squeeze my breasts, pinching my nipple and driving me closer to the edge.

I can't really blame them for being pissed at losing Vikings if the sex is anything like this, I think dizzily, gasping, my eyes rolling back as I arch back into Eric. He's hitting me so deeply, my pussy clutching at him as my body tightens, withering with the need to cum. Desperately, I reach for that peak, so close that I can actually feel a few tears track down my cheeks.

"You're close, aren't you, love?" I'm not sure if he wants me to answer, his growled question ending with a sharp thrust, the wet sound of skin on skin, filling my ears. His teeth scraped along my shoulder once more, his fingers leaving bruises behind on my thigh as he yanked my thighs wider. "Who do you belong to, little mare?"

The hand on my breast gave a final, loving squeeze and then slid down my stomach, teasing along my hip bone. Waiting. Taunting. I was so close to that edge, my body tightening and loosening in agonizing pulses.

But if he wanted me in that way then I wanted him too. I could feel how close he was, his breath sawing out of him, his teeth biting into my shoulder with a need that bordered on frenzy. Every thrust seemed to cause him more pain, his voice raw as he whispered words lowly, in Swedish against my nape.

"What about you, Viking?" I gasped, my teeth clamping against another whimper as he gave me another harsh thrust. "Who do you belong to?"

"You spoiled, beautiful mare," he grit out. "You. Apparently you."

The barely contained rage and bitter twist to his words only made me smile, my fingers yanking at his hair until he gave me a nip. "I'm all yours, Sheriff."

"Naughty brat," he snarled, his teeth flashing as he flipped us, yanking me to my knees. His cock surged back into me in a punishing thrust, forcing a cry from my lips. At this angle, he felt impossibly bigger, hitting a part of me that made all coherent thought fly from my head. "You know I could eat you for an evening snack? Glamor you into asking for my cock morning, noon, and night? I could make you wait for me on your hands and knees."

"But you wouldn't," I moaned out, my nipples scraping along the comforter as I feel a familiar tingle start in my toes. I hear a soft grunt from behind me as my pussy starts to flutter around him. Just on the edge. So close.

"I wouldn't," he growls, his fingers finally, finally reaching around my hips and rubbing my clit. My thighs tremble, my legs giving out as my whole world narrows to that single touch and then bursts apart at the seams. Vaguely, I realize that the only thing keeping me kneeling are Eric's hands at my hips, his knees pushing mine farther apart. My whimpered cry bounces through the room, matching his roar as I feel him give a final, savage thrust, cursing as he comes inside of me.

Slowly, he slides from me after a long moment where we both labor for breath. I can feel the tension rolling off of him, his hand massaging my ass for a moment before he's sprawling out beside me, that hand trailing up my spine.

He seems softer somehow, lying next to me, still languid from sex. I turn my head, pushing away the unruly tangle of my hair to meet the cool blue of his eyes. His fangs are still down, his pupils dilated as he runs a cool hand down my sides, kneading into the hair at my neck.

If he kept looking at me like that… My mind flashed to what the mares had warned me of. I squeezed my eyes shut. Why did these thoughts always have to ruin everything? A sudden wave of awareness crashed over me, my stomach turning as I tried to piece together all the reasons why having mind-blowing sex with Eric Northman might have been the worst idea of my entire life.

It scared me how little I truly cared.

"Runa…" I blinked, forcing my eyes open at the silent command in Eric's deep voice, his hand cupping my nape securely - a reminder. Those arctic eyes of his ran over me, the curve of my spine, the place where my breasts smooshed into the comforter, the half-hidden tilt of my face as my tangled mess of hair drooped forward.

It was odd seeing the switch in him - from the Viking that had told me repeatedly how good my pussy was to the no-nonsense vampire that was currently stretched out beside me. Honestly, I didn't know which one I liked better.

"You've got things on your mind," he stated, slowly his fangs flashed in a cocky smirk as his eyes slid a hot trail to the curve of my ass. "And not the things that make you scream my name."

Heat rolled across my face, searing my cheeks. "I never screamed your name." I blinked at his quirked brow. My mind scrambled over the events of the last few hours. "I mean… I remember screaming… Wordless… screams… With no one's name in the mix."

His smile grew, his teeth flashing in an arrogant tilt. I hated it when he gave me that grin. Unwanted my fingers moved of their own will, creeping along the sheets until they hit the smooth expanse of his abs. His breath dragged in abruptly, the blue of his eyes almost eclipsed as his pupils dilated. My palm flattened as I reached the curve of his pecs, the muscles there twitching.

"You're playing a dangerous game, lover." His voice was guttural, rubbing along the spell that my hands had created. "If you don't stop I'll have you wrapped around me in a second."

The very thought made me shiver.

But we had things to discuss. I kept my hand where it was - right above the still expanse of skin over his heart. Blinking, I dragged my gaze up, meeting his own.

"I was warned not to make any… emotional ties with you by the other mares." Eric's blonde brows dripped, cinching together, his fangs suddenly looking like a threat more than an erotic promise as he let out a low snarl. That hand at my nape tightened. "I've been… getting dreams since I was a little girl. I think it's like a homing device for mares - a way to keep us all in check."

One brow quirks, the tilt of his lips telling. "A dream?"

My mouth cinches down at the mocking lilt in his voice. "Yes. Its - it's honestly hard to explain and now that I'm thinking about how to say it out loud - well, it sounds stupid."

"Oh that sounds promising," he says silkily and I level a glare at him. Soothingly, his fingers tug gently at my hair, encouraging.

Taking a breath, I try to think of how best to phrase this. How not to sound like a lunatic. Finally, I just decided to dive head-first. "When it first started, I was seven? Eight, maybe? I would get these really violent urges and… well, I would end up in fights. But every time, when I fell asleep, I would see them. The mares. They would come to me one horseback, beneath the shade of a great tree. At first, I thought it was just my imagination - they never really told me anything that made sense-"

Eric's teeth flashed in a smirk. "Your kind liked to talk in riddles. Perhaps it was from the way that the old Vikings treated them - like oracles of witches. It added to their allure. And the more people that thought they were powerful, the more that would fear them."

"Fear?" I breathed, alarmed at the wording.

Slowly, his fingers massaged down my neck, kneading at the muscles of my shoulders as he remembered. For a moment, his eyes went cloudy, a flash of pain making my breath stall in my lunges. But then it was gone and he was speaking. "The old story goes that they were brought into existence by a witch who put a curse upon a king, wishing him to die in his sleep from fright. But her magic was too strong and it conjured into existence a whole other race - one that fed on fear."

My stomach turned, remembering the aching hunger of feeling out people's deepest secrets. Remembering the savage need that would overtake me whenever I came too close to someone's terror. It made sense. Too much sense.

"But my people had their own darkness to contend with," Eric suddenly murmured, his fingers soft and teasing along my sides. "Vikings lived for the conquest. I suppose that's why we were so drawn to the mares. For many years, we lived and slaughtered together. Up until the point when they vanished, scattering across the world." His fingers drifted back up, his eyes following as he took in the planes of my face. "You're the first that I've seen in many, many years."

Shakily, I took in a breath. And then another. "They told me that if I was ever tamed then I would die." The words were out before I could think better of them, Eric's eyes widening and then narrowing at the sudden confession.

"What?" he snarled, his lip curling away from his teeth as he glanced around the room. Like they were waiting at the door, about to come and slit my throat.

"I-" I gulped, wincing at the furious expression tightening his features. "After I met you, they told me that if I gave you more than sex than I would die."

His lips curled in a sneer. "What kind of fairytale trash is that?"

I blinked, reeling from the sudden question. What answer did I have for that?

"Have you ever even seen them outside of your dreams?" The way he said dreams made it clear how much he despised the very concept.

"N-no." I backtracked. "Except for the mare from tonight but she didn't even know who I was." At the furious tilt of his lips, I hurried to add a bit more context, struggling to think of what was relevant. "I've never met them but after he warning - well, they can make me feel pain. Pain enough to make me throw up when I wake."

His fangs flashed in another growl, his blue eyes blazing. "They hurt you?"

The ferocity in those three words made me wince, my fingers curling against his skin. "They were trying to-"

"Take make you obey," he sneered. "Flighty, narcissistic harpies - that's what the mares have always been."

A bubble of indignation ballooned into existence, a half-hearted defense on my tongue as he glared at the spot that his fingers were tracing shapes - runes? - along my back.

"Even though I think that they're a bunch of old hags with too much time on their hands…" His teeth gritted. "We'll take it slow. I'll reach out discreetly to some acquaintances and see if I can weed them out on my end. In the meantime, try and root around that… holy place-" His eyes rolled. " And see if you can dig up some locations."

I blinked, the sudden well of hope in my chest so blinding that for a moment I thought I was fooling myself. It couldn't possibly be this easy… Could it? "You-you'll help me?"

Those gorgeous, blues eyes blinked, surprise lighting his features before a soft smile curved his lips. Slowly, he leaned closer, our lips grazing in a tease to an actual kiss. "I don't like my things to be yanked around by dirty hands."

Why did that make a burst of warmth shiver through me?

Smiling, I leaned forward, my teeth tugging along his bottom lip. His whole body tensed, the hand at my hair stilling. I blinked. Maybe no biting lips. Wincing i drew back, freezing at the cold tilt of his eyes as they jerked to the door. "Eric? I'm sor-"

A low groan curled from his lips, his eyes moving remorsefully to my breasts, one hand following the shift and cupping the solid mass in his hand. "I'm afraid we have an unwelcome guest."

I followed his gaze to the bedrooms closed door, sifting through all the people that I knew would bother us in Texas. It was a very shortlist. "Sookie won't-"

His eyes tipped up to meet mine as he leaned forward to run his tongue along my nipple, slowly. His fangs against my skin made a shiver race through my body. "You know that pesky maker you had me chase away?"

"Who - oh...oooohhhh nooo." It was hard to sound too worried when Eric's fangs pinched into my breast, hsi big hands holding me up to his mouth. And making me unbearably wet. My eyes narrowed at the slow tilt to his lips, his bug body expanding on a deep breath. On second thought maybe that was on purpose.

"Come, pet," he sighed, giving me one final lick before he was rolling from the bed, his muscles rippling in a way that made me think of maybe trying to seduce him back to me. "Time to meet Bill's mommy."


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