I couldn't wait any longer to update! Haha A little gift for Eric fans ;)
…
The first emotion that Sookie registers is relief. She feels a huge weight literally lift off her shoulders. It's over, she thinks. Thank god.
She's no longer chained to a wall – in fact, she's lying in the middle of the most comfortable bed in the world. It's also the largest bed she's ever seen. Sookie thinks that it could fit four of her in it quite comfortably, without them even touching in the middle.
The cotton sheets feel expensive, cool and delicious against her skin… but that's when Sookie feels a wave of embarrassment. She's naked! She wonders what happened to her violet dress and how she came to be lying here, in this huge, glorious bed.
She turns over and lies on her back, revelling in the comfort, and takes in the rest of the room. It's light, airy and painted completely in the same fresh cream color as the sheets. The giant bed is actually a four-poster, with a soft gold canopy hanging over her head. Sookie doesn't pretend to know much about antiques, but she can tell from the gorgeous wood and design that it's both very old and very expensive.
There's no other furniture to give her a clue as to her location, just three white doors leading off the room in various directions. Sookie longs to explore, to see if this is just a different – albeit much nicer – kind of prison, but she seems to be stuck to the bed. Every muscle in her body screams in protest when she tries to move, reminding her of the very painful position she'd been forced into for several days before.
The door on the left wall opens quietly.
Sookie gasps because through the door walks the most beautiful man she has ever seen. Every muscle on his body is perfectly sculpted, from the broad shoulders to the V-line of his stomach, which dips below the towel he has casually wrapped around his hips. Sookie feels herself licking her lips, although she's not sure whether it's from embarrassment at the closeness of his body or a desire to taste his beautiful skin.
Even though his head is hidden by a second towel as he rubs his hair dry, Sookie instinctively knows who this perfect man is.
Eric.
Sookie clears her throat. "Where are we?"
Eric's blonde head emerges from under the towel and he's wearing his most alluring smirk – obviously feeling very pleased with himself for having glimpsed a naked Sookie. She remembers her lack of clothes and hurriedly draws up the soft sheets, blushing furiously.
He saunters towards her, like a lion stalking its prey. The smirk has grown even wider, as though he appreciates her blush as much as her body. Then he kneels on the edge of the bed, keeping at a respectful distance. Sookie feels disappointed for some reason. His smooth white skin is mesmerising and she can't form a coherent thought, let alone look away.
"We're in my bedroom." He replies.
"Your bedroom." Sookie repeats. "I'm in Eric Northman's bedroom. But how did I get here?"
In other circumstances, she might have laughed at the idea that he finally got her where he wanted. But she's completely shocked. She never even pictured Eric having a bedroom. Or a house for that matter. And this wonderful, light, airy room is certainly not something she would expect to belong to a leather-wearing Viking. The man certainly has depth, she thinks in amazement. He never fails to surprise her.
"Don't worry Sookie," he says. She likes the way he says her name, all protective and possessive. "I've been good. Even though, it was very, very hard." He smirks again, sexily looking down on her with lust-filled eyes, clearly amused by his innuendo.
Sookie feels the blush spreading up her neck again.
But Eric's gaze suddenly becomes serious. "I will always find you. I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you," he murmurs, almost like a whisper. "Sookie…" he breathes her name again.
Then he's bounding forward, pouncing on her, pinning her down. She can feel his hard length pressing into her thigh. Despite herself and the pain in every inch of her body, Sookie moans and rubs her hips against him. His hard muscles and long (very long) erection are the most delicious feelings she's ever experienced. She wants this, she knows she does. All that separates her from release is one small towel and some tangled sheets. She wants to rip the layers away and pull him deep inside her in one long thrust. She feels a pulse begin to jump between her legs as she pictures herself doing just that.
When she opens her eyes again, she's faced with Eric's intense gaze, just inches from her face. With his hair wet from the shower and falling forward over his forehead, he looks so much softer than usual. His blue eyes are still fierce and dangerous, but there's also a lot of tenderness Sookie never knew existed inside him. He's clearly waiting for her to encourage him.
He bends his head down slightly and Sookie screws her eyes shut, wanting to feel every breath and every moment of their kiss. She arches her back and lifts herself up to meet him. The first kiss is light, like a feather, as their lips brush. But Sookie needs more. Her body's demanding it. She grabs the back of his head roughly and crushes her lips onto his, feeling all her despair and desperation escape through passion. The suddenness of her movement causes Eric to moan, low in his throat. He's so close to losing control.
So he moves his mouth away, exploring her neck and throat with his lips whilst his hands skim her body so lightly, it makes her ache. His cool fingers trace a pattern down her warm curves, teasingly circling her breasts and nipples, but not touching.
He moves down her body slowly, pulling the sheet away and using his teeth to nip and scrape. But Sookie is no longer embarrassed by her lack of clothes. Raising his head, Eric gives her a sly smirk and stares straight into her eyes for a second, leaving her breathless as his head and hands wander even lower. Then he finds her clit with his tongue and begins to make slow, sensuous circles. Sookie's back arches with pleasure. She pushes her hips into him and grabs the back of his head once more, tangling her fingers in his wet hair to bring more pressure.
A loud, scraping noise interrupts them. Sookie doesn't want to look away from Eric. She keeps her eyes screwed tight, prolonging the feeling for a moment longer. But the sound is too urgent.
When she opens her eyes, Sookie feels herself wake with a hard, horrible jolt.
There's no bed, no Eric, just a dark room. Her neck aches terribly where her head drooped over the collar when she fell asleep. The tangled sheets have been replaced by her dirty dress. Only one thing remains the same – she's dripping wet between her legs.
Great, she thinks, just great.
But the dream has given her something new to worry about. It was way more intense than before – and there had been genuine affection between them, she was sure of it. It had felt too real, almost as if it was a memory. Just one that hadn't happened yet. Now Sookie had a new fantasy to sustain her – Bill clearly wasn't coming to save her, but what if Eric could help her?
Sookie is terribly confused. She tells herself that this is a man she hates, a man who tricked her and knowingly sent her into danger. But the dream is telling her something different. The Eric she sees in her sleep isn't the same man as the one she's known, that's very clear. What she can't figure out, though, is which one is the real Eric. She wonders if the man who appears in her dreams is part of Eric, or just a figment of her imagination – a version of him she wants to see.
Lost in her thoughts, Sookie realises that the noise which so rudely disturbed her moment with Eric was, in fact, real.
The heavy steel door stands fully open for the first time. And in the doorframe she can see two figures. Her heart leaps as she realises one is a tall man. But she knows, just as she knew in the bedroom that it was him, that this is not Eric playing hero. When he steps forward, she wonders how she could ever have mistaken such an average-looking (but tall and lean) guard for a perfect specimen like Eric.
A voice breaks the now awkward silence. It's high, petulant and spoilt. But somehow commands respect.
"Darling girl," the woman says. "Can you forgive me? I can't believe these imbeciles would treat you like this. You are a guest – not a prisoner. Please?"
She holds out her hand, gesturing to the guard to unlock Sookie. He's wearing leather gloves to protect him from the silver but fumbles rather, obviously nervous.
The woman snaps impatiently. "Useless. Bloody useless!"
Sookie is finally free to stand. But her legs won't support her – she's too weak from lack of food and water. The guard helps her stagger awkwardly forward.
In the light of the corridor, Sookie blinks uncomfortably and waits for eyes to adjust after days in the dark room.
The woman before her is a vision. Her red her is curled softly in a 20s dance hall style and her figure is draped casually in a very expensive – and highly inappropriate – floor-length pink silk gown, which clashes with her hair. The hand she is still holding out for Sookie is sheathed in an elbow-length glove and dips slightly at the wrist from the weight of an enormous diamond bracelet.
Sookie takes the hand cautiously, a little reluctant to touch anything so pretty when she's grubby but also wondering what on earth is going on.
"Who are you?" Sookie asks.
The woman gives a bright laugh – one that sounds like it was invented by girls to make men swoon – and flashes her pearly white teeth. "Sophie-Anne. Pleased to meet you Miss Stackhouse. I'm the Vampire Queen of Louisiana."