Instead of answering him, I edged toward him; he thought I was leaning forward for a different reason and tried to angle his face to meet mine. Instead, my arm snaked around his chest, found the ignition and turned the engine off. Without looking at him, I stepped out of the car, walked up the few steps to my apartment and was distracted by my vision. It was clear, too clear for this time of night; I'd always heard of the side effects of vampire blood, but had dismissed them as urban legends. But now, the chipped white paint of the porch jumped out at me, something the dark should have masked. But I shrugged it off when I felt Eric's eyes on me, something I expected to leave a burn mark on my back. I arrived at the front door, slid the key into deadbolt and heard the pins align, then click, releasing the lock. The door opened and I stood in the frame, straddling my decision. It was made when I looked over my shoulder, looked into Eric's eyes. He was still in the car, sitting calmly. Waiting.

"Come here, Eric." He got out of the car, moving slowly, so I could see him, watch him as he stepped toward me, never looking back, never glancing away. His hands gripped the inside of the door, but he couldn't enter. I hadn't let him, yet, and so we stood on opposite sides, split down the middle, my space and his. I invaded first, made the first breech by clasping his collar, crumpling it carelessly to pull him in slightly as I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. His head dipped forward, cleared the space into my home, but his body remained solidly on the outside. I didn't know where I was getting this courage, the power that ran through me, that allowed me to play with him like this, that let me believe I was in his league enough to keep him waiting.

"Sorry." I pulled away, though it was difficult. There was a charge in the air, electricity that crackled angrily as I allowed space to come between us. I felt my lips spread in a Cheshire cat grin. "Did you want to come in?"

"Elliot," he snarled, voice full of what I assumed was lust. It was contagious; I was heady with need for him, for his hands and lips and everything else that came with.

"Eric," I breathed, stretching up for him, this time exploring the area where his neck met his shoulder. His body quaked as I scraped my teeth lightly across his skin before putting pressure into the bite before licking and kissing my way across his collarbone. The empty space behind me seemed to have a strange gravity and I felt as if I were pulled backwards into its depths; my hand moved down the length of Eric's shoulder to catch his hand.

"Please. Come in." The words swirled forcefully into the air because as soon as I'd let them go, I was walked--or flown, I couldn't really tell--back into the wall of my foyer. His other hand found mine so both were interlaced, and then he pinned them against the wall so they were outstretched. I was a human cross. His mouth began an exploration of its own, starting behind my ear then down across my neck; the pressure was delicious, a push-pull rhythm that made me cry out loud when he found a particularly sensitive spot on my lower neck. He intensified the force of his caress and laughter burst from me, peals that didn't subside until he stopped and looked up at me, making my dazzled skin cry for the loss.

"Sorry," I said, catching my breath. "It's good, really good." His face was incredulous, but he resumed his motions without missing a beat as I hissed between my teeth, letting the repercussions of his touch ripple through my body.

"Uhn," The moan that poured from me was guttural, insistent. I fought against his hands, which had formed manacles around my wrists, keeping them frozen against the wall, though I wanted desperately to be released, to be allowed to touch him freely.

"No," he said, though his words were muffled because he spoke into the arc of my ribs, mouth still on my skin. He enjoyed the control, I could tell. It lit his eyes, woke his being up because at the core of him was a hunter; it was laid in the foundation of his DNA, in the tips of those beautiful, deadly teeth that evoked endless fascination in me. I leaned back into the wall, tilted my head back and pushed up with my legs, encircling his waist. My hands dropped and I was falling, back first, to the floor. A scream ripped from my throat, savage and loud, as I hurtled toward unforgiving wood. Instinctively, my eyes shut and my hands went to my head, but the blow never came. Instead, Eric's hands supported my shoulder blades and lifted, so I was eye-level with him.

"That's for the delayed invitation," he said, cackling. I rocked my hips down, felt the strain at his zipper and pressed against him roughly, allowing my leg to run over the length of the area.

"And now, we're even." He didn't respond to my words; instead he ripped the back of my dress, pulled it down to my waist and went back to my neck, back to the sweet spot.

"Bedroom?" he asked, between smooth strokes of his tongue.

"Down the hall," the words came out a gust, muffled between gasps and moans. "To the, ah, left." My fingernails dug through his shirt into his back as he carried me swiftly through the dark until the familiar walls of my bedroom surrounded us. I let go of his waist, landed solidly on my own two feet, though I was dizzy with disbelief and wonder. Could this really be happening? His arms were still around me, gripping my back with his large, sturdy hands; they took my heat, but I gave it willingly. I found the buttons of his shirt, began to undo them, but they were tricky in the dark, under my fingernails. Feeling brave, I jerked the cloth, hard, and listened to the distinct sound of buttons bouncing off the floor. I dragged the ruined shirt past Eric's shoulders, then off entirely. His hands were already on his pants, which, when sucked off into a ball in the corner, revealed he had been au natural under them. I gulped at the air, breathed fast but found no relief for the quick pace my heart took up, for the sheen of sweat that I felt break out all over me. His body was sinewy but muscular, long and broad; in a word, perfect.

"My turn," he smirked, but my dress had already begun to fall off; I let it, fluid as a cloth waterfall, slither down my body. Surprisingly, my heels didn't catch in the fabric as I stepped out of it where it had pooled on the floor. Eric sank to his knees in front of me, pulled my hips into him and slid his hands up my legs, teasingly.

"You'll pay for that," he teased, as he hooked his fingers under my underwear and began to pull. I stopped him, put the toe of my stiletto on his shoulder.

"I'm sure," I grinned. He leaned away so my foot rested on empty air for a second before taking the heel off, lowering my leg and repeating the process on the other side. This time, when his hands reached for my panties, I didn't stop him. He licked his lips as they hit the floor; I unhooked my bra and he replaced it with his mouth and hands. He kneaded, sucked and kissed so powerfully well I lost myself to a swirling building of pressure, of pleasure. The thunder of my heart filled my ears, rivaling the intensity of any storm I'd ever witnessed. His movements were like the wind, so intense I wondered how I would catch my breath one minute, and the next he slowed his pace, laying soft strokes over my breasts, my ribs. His licks and nips alone threatened to send me over the edge, though the pleasure was cut short when he suddenly stopped, propped himself up with his arms so he formed a bridge over me.

"Do you want me, Elliot?"

"Yes," I moaned, wriggling with need for him. "Now."

His aim was perfect, our pattern was right and as he entered me, everything just…stopped. My heart, my lungs, time itself slowed as he slid his length into me and we became one. The split-second time continuum healed itself, restored order and sped up to correct the suspension; I know this because suddenly he filled me completely and was moving back out as I rocked forward, pushed my hips up and arched my back, creating a sweet angle that send shudders through me. I opened my eyes to find him staring into me, deeply; the honesty, the intensity of the moment stretched me out so I was laid bare again, though this time my vulnerability was set before him. He lowered his head, then rolled so my back was against the empty air and his was supported by the bed. I laughed at the sheer oddity of having been moved, been blurred into sitting up.

"Look at me," he said, reflecting my smile, though his was as bright as dawn.

"No," I refused, bringing my hand to his face. I covered his eyes; he let me.

"Close them." It was an order, a command that was delivered with all the firmness of a drill sergeant. I felt the flutter of his long lashes against my improvised blindfold; they shut, and I uncovered his eyes.

"Don't open them," I warned, hoping this would work. For humans, if you took one sense away, the others heightened to compensate; I was guessing vampires would be similar. Eric's face remained passive when I drew the tip of my finger, feather soft, along his forehead, down his cheek, looping toward his mouth. I touched lightly, ghosted across the soft expanse of his mouth and felt him vibrate underneath me, inside of me. His mouth opened, fangs showing, when I reached his neck, traced over his shoulder before coming back to his chest. When I drew forward, let my hair fall over my shoulder so it curled over him, swishing slightly, making invisible patterns on his skin, he let out a short moan; his fingers went to my shoulders, gripped me tightly for a moment, but his eyes stayed shut. His hands loosened when I shrugged, motioned for him to relax. His hands fell back to the bed and mine stayed on his skin, his chest, where I dug the nails in and scratched down toward his hips. His eyes popped open; I started to order them shut, but the look on his face told me, in no uncertain terms, that he wouldn't comply.

"Move with me." I barely heard him; his eyes met mine again and hem them there like a lifeline. If there was a storm around me, he was my raft. If I looked away, diverted my focus, I would drown in the wild sensations rushing through my blood. His fingers, strong and lengthy, spread around my waist, a perimeter of ten points that supported me as we found our rhythm. I lifted up, anchored myself to his chest; it wasn't until I felt something wet on my hand that I realized I'd left half-circle cuts that had begun to pool with his blood. Without thinking, I licked at them, watched the wounds heal and let my mouth continue its journey until it met his. We stayed like that, connected, forming a circle of the space between us, until I was gasping, moaning Eric's name into his mouth while circling the edge of frenzy. My heart was a drum in my ears but I just jerked faster, running toward the fizzy ecstasy of release. I was on its precipice when Eric tore away from my lips, hugged me close, and bit softly into my neck, sending me out of my mind, out of my body, separated my molecules so I was everywhere and nowhere at once. He reached the edge a moment later and after I felt him begin to soften, I rolled off, onto my side, still in his arms.

When we--or, I, at least, caught my breath, Eric reached out and snapped on the light that sat atop my bedside table.

"You," I sad, propping myself up on an elbow, feeling rubbery and shaky, "should be cloned."

"Yeah?" he said nonchalantly, looking up at me, comfortable on his back. "Why's that?"

"Because every girl deserves that. At least once."

"Glad you enjoyed yourself."

"Oh, I did." I said, satisfied.

"And I enjoyed you, too." I flushed, embarrassed, and tried to hide my head in my arm, under the sheets so Eric wouldn't see the ugly warm spots that spread across my cheeks.

"I feel the heat rising off your skin," he said. I heard the laughter in his voice. He pulled me onto him so my still-hot skin on his chest. His body was soothing, sturdy in a way that made me feel anchored, trouble-free. In his arms, I was safe. I began to feel drowsy.

"Contract law?" Eric said, and my sex-addled mind went in a few circles before it caught on that he was asking about the book on my night stand.

"Oh, yeah." I mumbled, sleep hanging on the words. "I'm a law student."

"Do you like it?"

"Not particularly," A yawn stretched my words. "But I'm good at it."

"I see."

"Mmm," I murmured.

"Tired?"

"A bit. I rolled onto my back, my shoulder flush with his.

"Maybe I should wake you up." Before I could say a word, he was between my legs, doing things with his tongue that made my muscles spasm and clench with appreciation. He led me to the edge, then moved with me as one, and I dove into a pool of sensation that kept me outside my body for at least a minute. He kept going, burying himself inside of me until it was his turn to cry out, to gasp blindly at a moment of perfect bliss. We separated, and his head went to my chest, where the echo of my heart sounded loudly, happily.

I looked down at him, a creature so unlike me, and wondered what it was like to live as a vampire; his teeth were showing and he kept his mouth open, as if to remind me: he was dangerous, I was his prey. But they looked so natural that when they slid back, retracted into his gums, his human teeth looked alien in his mouth. He didn't notice my staring--his eyes were far away, processing something else entirely. When I ran my fingers through his hair, began massaging in small circles, he closed his eyes, trailed a finger across my stomach in lazy figure-eights and relaxed into my touch.

"Where are you from, Elliot?"

"I told you. Up North."

"Where?" he asked, voice firm. He wasn't playing.

"Rhode Island. Born and raised. Except for six glorious months in England."

"You lived abroad?" He was surprised.

"Yeah, studied there. I still miss it." My words were quiet as my thoughts flickered back to my younger days. Though things were still complicated then, they seemed easier, looking back.

"Where am I from?" He asked. I smiled, touched the tip of my tongue to the top of my lip.

"Well, you're not English. Or French. Or Spanish." His lips met my skin, pressed softly. He was distracting.

"Your accent sounds Germanic. But you're a thousand years old, so the whole country thing was probably loose boundary marks back then. So I'm going with Northern Europe."

"Sweden."

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes." I felt something wet trickle down my stomach; I figured it was a bead of sweat--Eric was a workout. We lapsed into a comfortable silence after that, my breathing the only sound in the room. After awhile, my still body sprung to life as I began to dream. The images I saw were of nature, the wilderness, and I ran through it without a care, without the need to stop and rest, to eat, to breathe. I heard someone with me, though every time I turned around, they disappeared back into the trees. But I knew they weren't there to hurt me, just to keep me company as I chased eternity.

When I woke the next morning, curled onto my side, blankets pulled up to my chin, I understood why Eric wasn't with me. But I couldn't help the disappointment that flooded through me. To wake with his arm, lightly dusted with hay-colored hair thrown casually over my chest would have made the night complete. But he'd gone, sometime in the night, and I couldn't follow. I threw my bedcovers back and sat up gingerly, aching from the sexual Olympics we'd competed in. My chest felt off, though; tight, and slightly stiff, and when I looked down at my bare skin, I understood why.

My chest, in between my breasts, was streaked with blood. I felt no pain, so I knew it wasn't my own, but I gaped at it nonetheless, mouth drawn back in horror. What had Eric done?

I walked, naked, the floor cool beneath my feet, to the phone; an ache rippled through me with each step. I dialed the number to the hotel and waited as it rang.

"Hotel Camilla. How can I help you?" The voice was unfamiliar, and the relief of anonymity washed over me.

"Hello, can I leave a message fore Mr. Eric Northman to call me when he wakes up?"

"What's the room number?"

"Four-eighteen." I stood there, a hand on my hip, as the line went silent, save for a few quick keystrokes.

"I'm sorry, miss, but the party in room 418 checked out early this morning."