Chapter 3

Eric's Interlude

Ignoring Pam, my staff, and countless onlookers, I doggedly made my way through the Fangtasia throng to my office. Once inside, I banged the door shut, yanked out my chair, and slammed down into it. I closed my eyes and willed control into every fiber of my being. Although I sat absolutely motionless, my entire body was vibrating, humming, focused on Sookie's blood. Scattered images of her body flooded my senses—her neck, the curve of her breasts, her skinny anklebones. I saw them all. I wanted them all. I wanted inside.

It had been a simple evening. I wasn't surprised by her choice of activity—although she had been right; my plans were more extravagant. I enjoyed her company. I reveled in any chance to be near her, to sense her heart beat, to touch her golden skin. Sookie was bright and amusing, and she made my mouth water. I had already admitted to myself long ago that I was a little obsessed with her, that I wanted her, and that I would do anything in my power to convince her to desire me, to choose me, too. My acquiescence to her tonight seemed justified on all of those fronts. I would go through whatever motions were necessary to make that occur.

Why, then, did I have this throbbing desire to protect her as well as bury myself in her? To make her smile as well as tongue her senseless? To learn the details of her life as well as the intricacy of her flavor? It was beyond anything I'd felt for other lovers, and different from what I felt for Pam. It was…unnerving.

Humans' fervent desire to know my emotions always amused me. I spent little time thinking about them, and they almost never guided my actions. In the human culture I came from, we didn't discuss them at all.

Vampires are creatures of sensation. We trust what we can smell, touch, taste, hear, and see. The senses are stronger, richer, and fuller than emotions, and usually easier to navigate. In this instance, though, they were complicated. Almost compromised.

I meant what I told Sookie about my synaesthetic reaction to her, though I doubted she grasped the full import of it. When I was with her earlier in the night, seated close and warm, trusting and open, I was flooded with so many sense memories and images they nearly choked me. They were not all from my human life, but from my scattered experience: I heard the cooking fire in my family tent, smelled the soft loam of the underground den I shared with Godric, felt the cool sensation of clean sheets on my wide modern bed. In that moment, I wanted to grab her and crush her to me, to squeeze the sensations out of her, to let them wash over me with no regard for her feelings, her safety, or her desire.

But at the same time, I felt a new, separate, warring pleasure, almost as strong as the first: restraint. This was different than the kind of tacit control I always operated under, the kind born out of confidence and power, where I almost always knew I could have whatever I wanted if I only took action. No, this pleasure was differently motivated. By regard, respect, and affection.

I thought back to the end of the evening, to the quiet stroll home through the woods. The amusing walk to the front door for the oh-so-prosaic goodnight kiss. When Sookie turned to face me, though, her brown eyes glowing, lips soft and full, it didn't feel cliché. It felt necessary. I brought my hand to the back of her neck, threading my fingers into her golden hair. I lowered my face to hers.

When her lips touched mine, more sensations burst through me—the color red, the smell of old-growth forest, the sound of the word "languid." My fangs descended as my arms locked around her, and I pressed myself into her small frame, seeking more, different, better, everything in her mouth. I barely registered her response until I felt her tongue slip into mine.

Her passion distracted and exhilarated me, and I opened myself to her exploration. She reached up, running her hands through my hair and pulling me down to her even more firmly. Then, tentatively, bravely, Sookie stroked my fangs with her tongue. A hairline fissure opened along the surface where she had licked me, and her exquisite, mind-numbing, impossible taste flooded my mouth.

Whether she did it on purpose or not, I did not know. A growl tore through me as I sucked her into my mouth, my throat, my entire system. Wild sensations exploded inside me, and my hands ran hungry and unbound along the length of her body. I felt all of my intentions fall away at the experience of her taste. I longed to take her into me, to fuck her on the floorboards, to drink her down, with no intention of stopping.

Then I heard her breathless gasp. Immediately—so fast I stunned myself—I stopped. Even my desire, so strong a moment ago I felt my control slip out of me, faded into the background. It was still potent, but turned down like a dial. Instantly we were back to Eric and Sookie, back to affection and respect. Restraint.

We parted for the evening soon after that. I didn't remember what she said or what I did. All I could sense was the steady pulse of her blood, and the competing pleasures inside: raw possession and regard. Excess and control. Violent passion and restraint.

My fists locked around the edge of my desk, bringing me back to the present. I wanted them all, I realized. At the same time. My body clenched with anticipation.

Tomorrow.