Okay, off to strip the kitchen. Last update for a bit unless I get lucky and get a chance to do some writing late this even. I'm an insomniac, so sometimes I write late at night. Enjoy, and thanks again for the reviews!
7. Beyond Dreams
She'd never been kissed that way before. Awkward, fumbled kisses in the back seats of cars were what she'd had for the most part. Even her sexual experiences had been fumbled and performed with little understanding.
But Eric kissed her like he meant it. As if she were beautiful and desirable, not just the only girl who'd let him try it out. His lips teased and tasted hers. His tongue slipped inside her mouth in a way that suggested yet more intimate actions.
His hands cupped her breasts and teased her nipples. His lips left hers to suckle at her breasts and she pleaded with him for... something. Some elusive fulfillment that hovered at the edge of his touch but never quite arrived.
His body was heavy on hers, the weight of it somehow comforting even as it was exciting and thrilling. His lips continued to tease and suckle at her nipple while his hand slid between her legs. She parted them and he touched her as she had only imagined being touched.
She arched against him, mewling and moaning, until he stopped abruptly. Panting, she lay beneath him as he looked into her eyes.
"What is it? Why did you stop?" She needed... she needed more.
"I don't know. It's your dream. What comes next?"
"You're supposed to know," she told him, surprised.
"I only know what you know," he answered.
"I know what comes next," Bill said, walking up behind Eric. His fangs snapped out, and Alexis screamed herself awake.
She was lying on the bed, her legs spread and her hands tangled in the comforter of Sookie's bed. Eric stood leaning against the door frame, staring at her in brooding silence.
"Am I still dreaming?" she asked him.
"No," he answered and said nothing more.
She clamped her legs shut and crossed her arms over her chest, her nipples erect in the cool air.
OoOoOoO
He knew she had been dreaming about him. She'd lain on the bed, bruised and still sexy. Her arousal was intense, and he almost smiled knowing she was experiencing that, blood or no blood. But the sounds she made, her writhing on the bed, and the hair spilling around her in untamed rivulets left him on the knife's edge of self-control.
She had felt no fear at all in her dream. She was a complex, unpredictable woman. Frightened and quavering one moment and fighting like a trapped cat in spite of it. She had fought back against them as hard as she'd fought him when he bit her. One small woman against what he guessed was two men, had never stood a chance, though, of course.
Her emotions in her dream had been simple and uncomplicated, though. They were layered, but simple. And intoxicating.
Without the ingrained fear from having been glamored, she felt admiration for him, layered with acceptance, acquiescence, and even affection.
But it was the emotion coursing through her now behind the lingering sexual attraction and the renewed fear that made it difficult to stay away from her.
In all his years, Eric had kept many humans. Some of them he had owned even in the eyes of the law. All of them, he had marked and fed as he had her. The vast majority, he had cared for, protected, fed, and given comfortable lives. It was simply the way things were. They fed him, he fed them.
This tiny, delicate, frightened woman whispered, her eyes averted, "Thank you for saving me."
It wasn't just words. It wasn't lip service or even the usual human selfishness. It was a genuine, deep gratitude that made the words inadequate.
"You're welcome," he told her, his voice graveled by lust and boiling, complex emotions.
He should not be feeling this way about a human. They were frail and fleeting to begin with, but this woman was especially fragile and vulnerable. The man wanted to protect her, the vampire wanted to devour her. She conflicted him, put him off-balance.
He had forgotten to turn her security system back on. He had never dreamed, in a thousand years, that he might find pieces of his father and mother again. He had, and he treasured them more than he could have imagined.
But he had forgotten to protect them, in lingering so long to watch this woman. More than that, he hadn't thought of them at all until that moment, for his first and only thoughts had been for her. Even now, he was eaten up with the knowledge that he had failed her so catastrophically.
He realized that standing silent in the doorway, lost in his own thoughts, was having a profound effect on her. Both her fear and her arousal was intensifying quickly, a side-effect of his blood. Although he had expected that it would mute the raw edges of her fear rather than intensifying it. He frowned. It should have, in fact.
The frown made her curl in on herself and he realized she was struggling to control herself. She always displayed that controlled facade to the world. She usually displayed it to him. He'd never been fooled by it, but he was surprised that she maintained it in the face of such powerful, conflicting emotions.
He stood up from the doorframe and did something stupid. He walked over and sank down on the bed beside her. His own self-control was fragile and he should have walked away. But he couldn't leave her alone with the turbulence he felt in her.
"Come here," he said. Simple words. Simple request.
He felt the storm in her. The desire to comply. The desire to refuse. The fear, the uncertainty... the desire.
And he felt her surrender. It was sweet, that surrender. Heady and intoxicating, as much because none of the battle showed on her face. She shifted on the bed and he drew her against him, feeling her wince from the bruises that still covered her body.
Her question was unexpected when it came. "Do you miss your father still?"
"Yes," he admitted.
"It's hard to imagine that our family had those things all that time, and neither of us ever knew. That chair was Mormor's favorite artifact."
"I did not think that anything of them had survived. I thought that thieves had taken it all." An interesting thought struck him then. "If your family has had them all of these centuries, then they must have been the royal family of your clan."
She smiled against his shoulder. "Did you just insinuate that I am a Swedish princess, Prince Eric?"
Her amusement rolled through him and he grinned. "Are you going to change your name to an obscure symbol that no one can pronounce?" Her laugh was sweet and soft and he realized he'd never heard it before.
She quieted, but he still felt that mix of fear and gratitude. It was strange that it had not faded.
"What happened to you?" she asked. "The stories only tell that your family was slaughtered. The reason cannot be spoken of."
"A vampire," he told her. "With his minions. I was not there to help protect my father, my mother, my newborn sister. I was..." he was surprised how difficult it was to admit this to her, "... with a woman."
He was surprised to feel her compassion. It wasn't something he expected from her, after his initial interaction with her.
"Well, that solves the mystery," she told him. "You know, whether the horny comes first or the vampirism comes first. Like the chicken and the egg, only different..."
"You are trying to use humor to make me feel better," he said. "You're not as insensitive as you appear."
"No, I'm not insensitive. I just lost my Mormor, and my sister. I understand loss. I'm just not very smart," she said. "I say stupid things a lot. I'm sorry."
She changed the subject. "So you were with a woman. You heard screams?"
"My father had been asking me to settle down. To take on the responsibilities of the kingship so that I could take over for him. I was more interested in women and ale." He closed his eyes against the memories. "When I heard the screams from the dining hall, I dressed as quickly as I could. I was the strongest warrior in our clan. The fastest, the best." He said it without arrogance, but instead with shame. "And I failed them, just as I failed you."
Her compassion shocked him to his core. "You can't blame yourself, Eric. I left the alarm off and let them in-"
"I left it off," he told her.
"What?"
"I came to see you, but you were sleeping. I left in a hurry and I didn't turn the alarm back on. It was so near dawn that I panicked and..." He felt his failure like a stone on his chest. "I'm sorry."
"But I always get up at five," she said, frowning.
"I must make it home to Shreveport before dawn, and into my coffin. If I do not, I bleed. If the rays of the sun find me, I will burn and die quickly." He didn't tell her that it had been the blaring of her alarm that had made him flee. He hadn't wanted to get caught staring at her like a schoolboy with a crush.
"It is my fault that you were attacked."
"Is that why you saved me? Because you felt responsible?" Disappointment, in her voice as well as her feelings.
He grinned at her. "I saved you because you are mine."
"I'm not property, you know."
"I am a person, you know."
"You're overbearing and bossy."
"That's because your Mormor made me the boss of you."
"They could have destroyed your family's things, Eric."
"I know. But the memories they hold are within me, not inside of them. I do not wish to lose them. They can not be replaced. But if they are gone, the memories will still be there. If you are lost, then I have lost something of true value. It is the attack on you that I regret the most."
She was staring at him in consternation and confusion. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"You don't even like me," she said. "You're just taking care of me because-"
"I didn't like you. Until I realized that your reaction to me is not normal and not your fault," he told her, turning so that he could wrap around her more thoroughly and see her more clearly. "I think that you have been glamoured. You have forgotten why, when, and how... but not how it made you feel."
"Well, that doesn't make sense. Why would anyone have glamoured me?"
"Maybe he was watching you sleep and didn't want to get caught," Eric smirked. "He was probably considering snatching you out of bed and carrying you off and licking and sucking and fucking you until you couldn't walk-"
Her reaction was not what he expected. She bolted upright, her eyes wide. Terror blew through her like a violent wind. "Haley!" she said, her hand going to her mouth. Her eyes were glazed as if she were lost in her own mind and Eric sat up, too.
It was easy for him to put together what happened then. She caught Liam taking her sister and he glamoured her. He was especially sadistic, so he no doubt left enough seeds in her mind to engender the terror Eric felt in her, while removing all memories of his own presence. It would have suited his cruelty to leave her in abject terror of every vampire she saw.
He wondered that she could stand his presence at all, given the realization of whom had glamoured her and why.
"Shh," he soothed her. He kissed her, distracting her from the rampant fear inside her. She struggled for a moment and then surrendered, that sweet transition from terror to desire that made him ache to be inside her.
Finally he pulled away from her, kissing down her neck and across her shoulder. He wondered if fucking her senseless until dawn would ease the fear or worsen it.
"You should have come sooner," she told him.
He pulled away and grinned at her. "Ladies first," he said.
Her brow furrowed and her wide brown eyes blinked at him in puzzlement. Then she looked away, her cheeks reddening. "You're being a pervert, aren't you." It wasn't really a question, but it amused him.
"Two kinds of vampires in this world, little doe. Dead ones and perverted ones. Guess which one I am."
She was amused, but didn't smile. He found himself disappointed. He laid down on his side, propping his head up with his hand and running a finger along her inner thigh as she sat cross-legged in front of him.
"What were you referring to?" he finally asked, before her lust made him forget himself.
"To visit. You should have come earlier, so that you wouldn't have to rush home so fast."
He pondered her. She was contradictory in every way. "You have expressed such rage at me, so frequently. Why are you not angry that I left the alarm off and got you attacked?"
"Because, that you did not do on purpose, unlike the rest," she said.
"I did not ask your Mormor to leave her artifacts to me or to put me in control of your financial situation, either," he reminded her.
Ah, there was the anger. How strange she felt it over what he had no control over, but did not feel it about what he had control over. But there was underlying hurt, as well.
"Even my own grandmother hated me," she said softly.
He could feel her fighting tears and a profound sense of hurt.
"Really? Is being mine so very terrible?"
"I was happy the way I was-"
He sat up and pulled her into his lap so that she was straddling him, her legs around him. He felt the heat of her crotch against him and it took all of his willpower to keep his fangs in. He buried his fingers in that glorious hair and pulled her lips to his.
"If that's happy, it's no wonder the human race is murdering itself," he whispered in her ear, nibbling it before running his lips down to lick and suckle at his marks on her neck. He would not drink from her now, she was still too weak.
But he thought about it as much as he thought about having sex with her all night long. Maybe longer if he could stand it, and he probably could. And he knew she wouldn't object. She feared him, but she also wanted him.
He rolled over on top of her, thrusting against her. She gasped into his kiss and he pulled away.
"You should sleep now," he told her. "Sookie will take you for contacts tomorrow."
"There's nothing wrong with my glasses," she said, and he felt irritation as well as hurt in her.
"They are ugly and unnecessary," he answered.
She sounded bitter as she told him, "I've heard it all, Mr. Northman."
He scowled. So he was back to 'Mr. Northman' after she was laying on the bed squirming from dreaming of him?
"All of what?" she blinked at the cold tone of his voice, but he couldn't help being irritated with her.
"How I would look better if I looked like someone else. If I cut my hair, wore makeup to hide my face, no longer had glasses, dressed like someone else... if only I weren't me, think how pretty I would be..."
"So you think that this is you? The glasses are you? The clothes are you? Your hair is you?"
"It's an expression of me," she told him, pulling away further.
"No, it's an expression of your unhappiness and your desire to hide and not be noticed. You can't stand for anyone to actually see you. You've got stage fright."
"You don't know anything about me," she answered.
"Contacts, Alexis. No glasses."
"But I-"
He snapped his fangs out, and she recoiled.
"Yes, Eric."
They were sexy words as much because in his world, a disobedient and uncontrolled human was a dead human, as because her surrender to him was overwhelmingly sweet to the vampire in him. He stood up, looking down at her, the first nudging of dawn coming upon him.
"I will rise at dusk. Be waiting for me."
She opened her mouth and he raised an eyebrow with a smirk. If she said 'But, I-', she was going to be in trouble.
She subsided. He turned and walked to Bill's cubby and descended. She would obey. He was certain of it. He laid down on the bed in the cubby, his cock still hard and his lust unsated and unabated. Soon, he promised his recalcitrant body. Very soon.
He woke at dusk and left the cubby to find her in the kitchen, whistling to herself.
Her hair was braided but she wore no glasses. He was pleased.
He turned her around, ignoring her gasp of surprise, and smiled at her. He felt the twinge of her terror and kissed it away. "Come with me," he told her, taking her hand.
Her eyes narrowed and he raised an eyebrow.
She followed without a word. He hid his grin.
Outside, he locked the door and picked her up. Then he flitted to Fangtasia, entering through the back in order to hide her presence. In his office, Pam was waiting as he'd asked her to before leaving the cubby. He'd been surprised he got reception there.
He set Alexis down and was delighted to find her breathless and giggling.
Pam was looking at him with a certain amount of impatience and disgust. "I think she likes roller coasters," he told her.
"Fascinating," Pam answered. "What do you want?"
Angered by her insolence, particularly in front of Alexis while she herself was allowed none, he snapped his fangs out and hissed at her, gripping her neck and lifting her. "What did you say to me?"
"I'm sorry," she said. Her tone completely changed, she asked, "What did you need from me?"
He walked back to Alexis and picked up her hair, pulling the band out of it. "Highlight her hair and take her to the tailor."
"Do you have any idea how much and how long it will take to highlight all that hair?" Pam demanded.
"I have complete faith in you, Pam."
"What do you want me to get for her at the tailor's?"
"Everything. But do not allow her to get turtlenecks," he responded.
"But I-"
He snapped his fangs out and drank from her. Not much, because she was too weak. Enough to remind her that he could. Enough to make himself ache with the lust for more.
He licked her wounds closed again and drank of her scent, hungry for her blood and her body.
A bit of rebellion remained in her, and she said, "You don't have to talk about me like I'm not right here." It was his own blood, he knew. She was high on it, and emboldened.
So he forgave her. "Pam will not know what to get for you if she does not have instructions," he answered.
"I don't want to change," she whispered. "I was happy."
"You were not," he informed her. "You will know you are happy when you accept that you are mine." He kissed her on the head and told Pam, "I have much to do tonight. Be certain she is at Sookie's house before you go to ground."
"Fine," Pam told him. "Though it will probably take all night to do anything remotely acceptable to that hair. Are you sure we can't cut it?"
"I like it," Eric told her. "It reminds me of my youth. Women considered their hair to be part of capturing a man's attention. It was a good tradition, pity it fell away. There is little so sweet as the brush of a woman's hair on your legs when she's riding you."
He grinned as his words had the desire effect on Alexis and her face heated, her eyes falling. Hiding from the thought of sex with him.
Not for too much longer.