Act Three Disclaimer: remember, this story mainly takes place between Seasons 3 and 4 … and isn't terribly AU. So it's going to get angsty and I'm sorry in advance, but I promise there will be a happy ending.

Warnings: moar smut

Song lyrics for this chapter: Do I Move You? by Nina Simone

ACT THREE

A few months later, Eric landed in the gravel driveway of Grace's residence with a thud! and absorbed the impact of his hurried flight. It was 6 am, two hours after he said he'd be there. Bill had yanked his chain and forced him to Bon Temps for some stupid fucking meeting about supposed witch activity, detaining him longer than he would have liked. He agreed with his rival - the coven in Shreveport was brewing something sinister that just hadn't reared its head yet - but the constant micromanagement had started getting to Eric. The Authority's grip was bad enough, but this level of control from the new King on top of his complete inefficiency and piss poor leadership … Sophie-Anne was a challenge, but Bill was unbearable.

The Sheriff wasted no time checking on his mate because even though she had successfully been out of the spotlight for some time, he still assumed the worst. He zipped up the front porch stairs, entered the Craftsman and found her on the couch. His panic subsided. She was there alright and had fallen asleep while reading and waiting for him. She wasn't alone either. A familiar orange cat sat on a couch pillow and chirped when he saw the vampire. Eric had been wary of him initially but softened once Grace explained that the cat was connected to her ancestor. He held out his hand and Bert headbutted him affectionately, jumped off the couch and mewed at the back door until Eric let him outside. From there, he sauntered away into the night, content that someone else had taken over watching the siren.

Eric knew it was getting close to sunrise but debated whether he should wake Grace. She hinted through vague texts that she needed to speak with him about something sensitive … yet she looked so peaceful and deserved the rest. She'd already adjusted her sleep patterns to be with him, but the longer spring days and his erratic schedule had been taking their toll on the both of them lately and he didn't want to send her into more of a daze.

Moreover, a part of him still didn't believe she was really there. This was just a dream. If he woke his little songbird, she might fly away and he would be booted out of whatever fantasy he was currently living in. Because how had a dark monster like him found a bright soul like her? It didn't make sense. He was a bloodthirsty killer who didn't deserve to feel happy after all the sins he'd committed over the last thousand years.

Yet, that's what she made him feel. Happy.

Eric thought he knew what that emotion meant as a vampire. He believed he experienced it when he needled Bill with an insult that took him down a few pegs, fed on a particularly exquisite human or encased Russell in concrete and watched him suffer. Even fleeting moments with Sylvie or Sookie made him think he understood it. But after being with Grace, he realized those experiences only scratched the surface. The siren made him feel alive again. Her youth and playfulness were invigorating and brought out a side of Eric he thought to be dormant. He laughed again. He enjoyed things.

But after a while, a gnawing pain grew in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't entitled to this. Not with all the horrors in his past.

Guilt immediately overtook him whenever she couldn't sense him through the bond. It was like a high stakes game trying to find the right time to express it because he did everything he could to keep Grace from finding out. He didn't want her to know how much he hated himself for loving her. The sentiment ended up choosing for him; he wouldn't wake her in this kind of mood. She'd read him instantly now that the release valve had been opened and he couldn't have that.

Instead, Eric gingerly picked up Grace's book to see what she'd been getting into. He perused the Buddhist text explaining the mystic law of cause and effect through sound and vibration while he wandered over to one of the outdoor chairs. He failed to notice a familiar figure dressed in loose white clothing appear and it wasn't until he heard an animal scatter off in the distance that Eric looked up and saw Godric sitting next to him. The Viking hadn't seen his maker since the night of Grace's transition but regularly perceived him on the edges of his mind. He still didn't forgive the ancient for meeting the sun but trusted him a little more after he'd guided him through the siren's harrowing ordeal.

"I should have known the subject matter would finally coax you out," he muttered, holding up Grace's text. "Something you would have read, it seems."

The wind picked up. Godric put his hands in a steeple gesture and looked at the dark lake before them. He didn't say anything, telling Eric all he needed to know.

"... You're not here because of the book."

"But you are happy to see me nonetheless," Godric smiled softly.

Happy. The word sent Eric into another tailspin. He didn't get to feel that way, he was the villainous Sheriff of Area 5 working under the Authority's thumb and trained by the best to understand only survival or death. His past was drenched in blood. He loudly slammed Grace's book shut without meaning to. Yet he grimaced and placed it on the table next to him with a leveler head when he put two and two together.

"You want me to stop the guilt."

"It is not serving you," his maker acknowledged.

"You told me to face my wounds. Rome wasn't built in a day, you of all beings should know that." Eric couldn't help the bite in his tone. Godric's cutting observations always made him feel defensive.

"I simply do not want you to make the same mistake I did. Do you remember Paris, 1793?"

The Reign of Terror. He and his maker had flocked to the French capital in the middle of its civil war to reap the bloody benefits, Nora being long gone at that point and detached from the rest of their family. The men became good friends with a vampire serial killer named Guerra and the three of them hunted the city each night and seamlessly blended into the shadows as the humans executed thousands and rivers of blood ran in the streets.

"How could I forget?" Eric scoffed. "It was a paradise. Guerra could hide his corpses in plain sight no matter how mutilated they were."

"He was a cruel one," Godric remarked solemnly. He sighed before continuing. "He asked me to accompany him one night to help him select a human victim. We settled on an innocent blonde who was supposed to be under the watchful eye of her older brother ... but I found that I needed to have her for myself. I bartered with Guerra and lured her away from her chaperone to take what was mine. But in my attempt to captivate her, she bewitched me."

Another one of Godric's parables. Still, Eric's eyes narrowed in confusion; he'd never heard this one before.

"She saw my fangs but showed me kindness like no one else had, during a period of state-sanctioned violence, no less. I did not understand and could not help visiting her again the next night … and the next and the next. Like a moth to a bright light."

So that's where he'd been. All these years, Eric assumed he was in terrible bloodlust alongside the rest of the city and didn't push any further. But if Eric didn't know this story, how was his maker sitting next to him retelling it now?

"I told her of my savagery and yet she accepted me. She loved me, even." Godric paused for a moment to let his words soak in. Eric said nothing, watching him closely. "I tortured myself for feeling anything in return and misused my time with her. For one hundred and six days after we met, the mob claimed her life … They took my Céline -"

"How is this possible? You're just in my head," Eric finally interrupted. His face was grim and accusatory, his warrior instincts now alert. The ancient sighed heavily again.

"You are not listening."

"No, I'm not. I don't even know if you're really Godric."

"My blood is in you, Erik." The old pronunciation sent a shiver across the Viking's skin. "I have evolved, but I am with you always."

"You're just in my head," he repeated in disbelief. "Everything you know, I know. But I don't know who the fuck Céline is."

The wind whipped through the trees; a thunderstorm was brewing in the distance. Godric smoothed out his linen pants and looked out at the lake again.

"You did not welcome me at first while dealing with Russell. I thought you would be more receptive about Grace if I masqueraded as your conscience." He hung his head. "And yet … you still did not listen until you were forced to with her death. So now I choose to be more direct."

Eric's wariness weakened; manipulation was the old Godric's style. He was the master of playing the chessboard and had taught the Sheriff everything he knew about domination and controlling a situation to get the right outcome. His admission felt comforting and familiar in that way. It made Eric trust him.

And then, reality hit him. This was now a conversation, not something born from his insanity. It changed everything. A tsunami wave of reverence and admiration crashed into him, overtaking everything else. Godric was here. It was him, somehow visiting him from wherever he resided. Eric immediately fell to his knees in front of his maker, bowed his head and felt blood tears begin to drip from his eyes. How had he not seen it before?

"Godrik …"

"Do you now understand why I have told you this story?" he asked. "I was ashamed to love her. I told no one about her. After all the atrocities I committed, I did not think I deserved such peace. And then I lost her. Although I masked it for centuries, it began my shift toward true death. I never looked at humanity the same … or vampires, for that matter."

Godric stood up from his seat, reached out his hand and tenderly placed a hand on the side of his neck, as he had on the hotel rooftop.

"Erik, you deserve peace in this lifetime. Do not hate yourself for cherishing it once you have it." The Sheriff hung his head in shame as more tears slowly poured down his face.

"It makes me feel human. And I'm not."

"That does not mean you are not worthy."

"I am Death," he growled, still objecting. "Just like you made me. She doesn't know everything -"

"I told Céline about my maker. How his cruelty spawned my bloodshed and I killed him in the end." Eric's eyes widened in shock. Godric rarely discussed his violent and dark past with anyone, let alone humans he'd just met. "And her love did not falter. She saw good in me, even when I didn't … So tell me. Does Grace know about your maker?"

Eric looked down again. A crack of lightning lit up the sky, followed by booming thunder sometime later.

"She knows you met the true death not long ago."

"But not the depths of your sorrow at my passing. And how much she brought you out of it."

"No." A lone tear dribbled off his cheek and hit the grass. "She's my weakness, her knowledge of the matter could be exploited against me -"

"Still, you resist?"

Godric's face turned stern; he got this way when Eric crossed a line and he wanted his progeny to submit, even if he had to use force. His tone didn't come along with his normal authoritarian, awe-inspiring power but it was enough to command Eric's attention. It brought back old memories and desires he hadn't felt in ages. He'd forgotten what it was like to fully yield to his maker.

"Listen to me. I turned you because of your lust for life and you have always been my passionate and fearless child as a vampire. But I made you in my image and now, you are following my path even though you have a better one. For that, I apologize." The Viking was stunned. The ancient had never treated him like this in his entire existence. "There is love between you and your mate, do not deny yourself this gift as I did. Embrace her as Erik, not Godrik. It will save your life."

The sky lit up again. Another boom rumbled.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Eric looked up and saw Grace at the sliding door, timidly looking into the backyard to see if she could understand what was happening. He was so focused on the figure before him that he failed to sense his lover's eyes fluttering open. His amazement had transferred to Grace over the bond and forced her awake. Godric's tone softened at her presence - he was intrigued when so close to another being that held his blood - but remained dominant toward his progeny.

"Tell her the truth." The Sheriff looked over at him, unsure. He could already tell she was on edge now that she noticed his bloody tears. "She cannot see or hear me, but her blood recognizes mine."

As before, Godric's command was hollow. His maker's authority didn't transfer over to Eric, for their bond was critically severed now that he'd met the true death and was … somewhere out there in the fucking universe. Yet his progeny still obeyed his master nonetheless. He submitted, pleasure bubbling at the pit of his stomach instead of guilt.

"I'm speaking to Godric."

After a noticeable pause, Grace gave a soft chuckle … which was not what the Viking expected. "Oh, that makes sense, I guess."

Godric smirked.

"It does?" Eric said, still confused.

"Well, if I talk an ancient soul keeper, then surely it's not a stretch to think my lover would, too. That and my veins are all tingly. He's here now?"

Godric dropped control over his progeny and focused on Grace instead. He walked over to the siren and stood in front of her, slowly holding out a ghostly hand in an attempt to touch her shoulder. Eric understood Grace's bewilderment through their bond; she could sense Godric's movements even though she didn't have enough of his blood to experience his full form. It was strange and exhilarating to feel her blind reactions to what Eric clearly saw in front of him. The ancient vampire's hand never made full contact with her - he still was in some spiritual form, remember - but she jumped out of her skin when it got closer.

"Holy fuck, was that him?" His maker turned back; he didn't need to say how he wanted Eric to respond.

"Yes," the Sheriff obeyed.

Godric shot him another pleased smile before turning back to Grace. He sighed happily, bowed his head and clasped his hands behind his back. Eric felt a faint sense of approval brush over his maker's bond … and not too long after, he felt his mate perceive the same secondhand through their soul bond. It was thrilling for all involved. Grace marveled at the source of her new blood's respect and automatically bowed her head in return, not fully understanding what was happening but trusting it was the right thing to do. Godric let out a soft chortle and raised his head. He said his next words knowing she couldn't hear him.

"Look after him for me."

And with that, Godric pushed against their bonds and slowly dissolved into the night, leaving the both of them in silence and utter amazement. Eric blinked in shock a few times and wiped away some of the blood from his face.

"Was that real?" Grace asked incredulously.

"It was," he whispered.

Grace fluttered her lips, completely baffled at the sensations she was feeling alongside her sleep deprivation. And in truth, Eric wasn't stable either. He would have remained on his knees for hours - absorbing the sacred setting that had held his maker's presence - but the singer was with it enough to notice that the sky was getting lighter despite the stormy conditions.

"Come on. Time for bed."

She hooked her arm in his and helped him stand. The couple slowly entered the Craftsmen and paused in Grace's bedroom to get Eric into clean clothes. Although his urges wanted to devour her whole as she peeled off his black outfit, Eric found he was too mystified and tired to push things any further. And she gave off the same vibes through their bond.

Once ready, they entered the basement before the impending sunrise. Grace had transformed it into a minimalist, temperature-controlled bedroom in a similar style to his nest. They settled in the king bed covered in plush animal furs and the vampire placed his head in Grace's lap; she absentmindedly rubbed his temples as she decompressed herself. Eric slowly counted to ten like she'd taught him to do when he needed to clear his head. It always came in handy when masking her existence in front of other vampires (especially Bill), but this time, it helped him remember something from earlier that evening.

"What were you texting about?"

"Oh, we don't need to - "

He looked up at her with puppy dog eyes. Godric's visit had ignited his deep loyalty to their bloodline and his desperation to give her anything she desired flooded their bond. She bit her lip, eventually deciding to continue.

"Well, I'm ready to use my powers on others now. So … I need help finding a safe test subject."

The Sheriff's protectiveness flared. He didn't want to let anyone else in on her secret, it was too dangerous. But there was one person he could offer that wouldn't be a credible witness; someone he often threw at his problems when he didn't want to think so hard.

"You can have Ginger."

Grace yawned loudly.

"Too easy, I need a challenge."

Eric sighed softly and caved.

"Fine, someone else then." Someone who was as vanilla as they came and in no way attractive. They wouldn't be allowed to touch her in the slightest, either. "But they'll need to be glamoured within an inch of their life after every session to forget you. Pam will handle that part. I can't reliably do it myself."

"I need to practice every day. You can spare her that much?"

It was a fair question. Fangtasia's revamped cabaret was more profitable than ever; she'd transformed the show into something erotic and daring like Cirque du Soleil's Zumanity and made it more exclusive and therefore, expensive. Her hard work was needed to keep it running.

"For this, I'll make room in her schedule."

She rubbed his temple again and soon, her fingers wandered through his blonde hair, giving him a bit of a scalp massage to say thank you. It felt glorious after the night he'd experienced. But as they shifted positions, lovingly curled up next to each other and settled into another patch of silence, Eric's thoughts returned to his encounter with Godric. He remembered the ghostly feeling of his dominance and found himself longing for the real thing now that he'd gotten a taste of it again. His arousal peaked at the thought of yielding to a powerful, commanding being. Because in that moment of submission, he could let go and be at the mercy of someone else instead of being the dominant one in charge with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was incredibly freeing.

"W-what?" Grace asked in between her yawns. She'd picked up on his desires but didn't understand what he wanted. He hesitated - wondering if he should let her in on his fantasy - but the decision was easily made for him without his maker present to insist. He inhaled her scent as he buried his head into the crook of her neck and savored her.

"You should also practice on a vampire to prepare for any type of threat."

"I guess, sure."

"It should be with me," he purred. Grace's breath hitched. She squirmed against his arms and turned over to face him.

"You know what you're asking, right? I would be controlling you."

"I know," he said, sending her a bit of pleasure through their bond as he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. "And I'd like to be intimate with you that way."

"Oh? … Oh! Well then. Ok." He could feel her excitement bubbling even though she stifled another yawn. "Only after I master a human and we'll need some ground rules. Topic for another time."

"Deal."

He thought they might act on their desires now that they were both in the mood; fuck the bleeds, he could stomach them if it meant he could show her how much he loved her for accepting the offer. But instead, Grace sighed happily and moved to resume her place as his little spoon. Within a minute or so of listening to her slowing heartbeat, she was out cold and snoring softly. Eric chuckled, inhaled her comforting scent again and closed his eyes as the sun's rays began to peak above the horizon.

It didn't take long for Eric to get his wish. After all, Grace was stronger beyond her years and now even more motivated to master her powers. Nevertheless, the Sheriff didn't expect it to happen so soon. Two weeks or so later, he sat in his office at Fangtasia, listening to this thing called 'drum and bass' that Grace had shared with him and mindlessly trolling the club's financial ledgers on his computer. He was killing time until his second-in-command appeared, for she was due to give her nightly report.

He didn't hear her enter over the pounding drums and dark bass lines coming from his headphones. Pam noticed his inattention and a shit-eating grin appeared on her face. She slithered around the room and perched on the edge of his desk behind him, waiting for her maker to notice her mood. However, Eric was too spaced out bobbing his head to the music to recognize what was happening. She eventually had to snatch his corded earbuds to get his attention.

The Viking's head jerked around. He noticed her deviousness through their bond, gave his progeny a once-over and understood. Pam got this way when she had a secret she wanted to flaunt, much like a cat prancing around its latest kill to show off in front of its owner.

"What is it?" he sighed playfully.

"Ask me to give my report."

"Alright." He took his feet off the desk and swiveled his chair to face her. "Let's start with the Moon Goddess Emporium. Bill's been up my ass again."

"They haven't done anything crazy, according to Lafayette's tail," she informed. "Just mystic mumbo-jumbo instead of actual spellwork, but I still don't trust their head bitch."

"Neither do I. We keep the surveillance." Pam nodded, the grin returning as she inspected her nails. "And the club protestors?"

"Their numbers have gone down now that the DOJ finally opened their investigation into the force, thanks to you. I hear the Chief will resign before the consequences kick in."

"He's trying to hide the skeletons in their closet," Eric mumbled. "But we'll find them."

"We always do."

Pam remained silent; so that wasn't the news. He rolled his eyes in jest and poked further.

"The cabaret?"

"Oh we're fine there," his progeny answered, merrily recrossing her legs. "But I will again state for the record that I'm too good for this stupid town."

Eric knew she was right; his progeny's artistic direction and management skills were meant for grander audiences. But they both knew the bigger the cabaret got, the more attention it would attract and invite prying eyes into its past … and Grace had to be protected at all costs. Pam understood - she sensed the family blood within the siren and automatically did what was needed to protect it, including her new glamouring responsibilities - but still let Eric know her talents had a higher gear. Much to his chagrin.

"You deserve Paris," he buttered up, hoping the flattery would help reveal her secret.

"You're goddamn right." But she went silent again, that shit-eating grin making another appearance. Eric huffed lightheartedly.

"What is it?"

"You haven't asked yet."

"Pamela … don't make me command it out of you."

"What else do I usually report on, Sheriff?"

"Grace said she wasn't training with the human tonight." Pam's smile grew, something Eric didn't think was possible. She tilted her head and leaned forward.

"Because she's ready for you, maker."

Eric's arousal quickly ignited and his lips curled into a lascivious smirk. Gods, he'd already couldn't wait to be off duty … but this, this was wrecking any level of self-control he had left. He gripped his chair to reign in the anticipation flowing directly to his cock.

"Go. I'll handle the rest of the finances," Pam thankfully said. He zipped up from his seat, threw on his leather jacket and paused to touch her cheek before he left the club for good; she nuzzled into his hand momentarily before resuming her normal disposition. He dashed to the door, but her next words made him pause. "Oh and Eric … don't close the bond. I want to know how much you enjoy my work."

His old self would have been furious with his progeny for intervening. She knew his feelings when submitting to his maker but he locked them away and never discussed them with her. She couldn't know the details, that was only something he and Godric shared … but now, things were different after the ancient's last visit. And Pam knew it. She'd picked up on his unbridled happiness lately and apparently decided to add to it for her own gain. Eric knew his progeny loved it when he was in a good mood and their bond was fully open, like when he'd first turned her.

"... You didn't," he laughed softly, turning to catch her Cheshire Cat grin.

"Oh, I did."

"You saucy bitch."

He took down all barriers between them before giving her a wink, rushing out of his office and rocketing into the sky. Eric's desire for his mate clawed and thrashed against his restraint as he flew to her house recklessly, almost hitting a powerline on his landing. But he made it in record time and one piece. The vampire ran up the front porch steps, threw open the front door and charged in.

Fuck, he needed her.

Once inside, he noticed Pam's touches immediately. The house was darker than normal, thanks to the lights being off and new velvet drapes in the windows. But there were now a multitude of lights placed throughout the open floor plan. He was too distracted to officially count how many but noticed the various additions - subtle red uplights, tealights, votives, and round pillar candles. The living room furniture had been cleared, save for one solid wood chair in front of the fireplace.

And standing behind it was Grace like he'd never seen before. She wore a cherry red bob wig, black kohl around her eyes, a completely see-through floor length black chiton and an opaque matching thong. That was it. Her curves and erect nipples were on full display, making Eric's fangs drop. She looked beyond sexy and the outfit reminded him of Greek antiquity and modern high-fashion barely there runway styles. A mix of the past and present that encapsulated Grace perfectly.

Oh Pam, she'd truly outdone herself. He would find the perfect human to reward her for this. He pushed a surge of satisfaction over his progeny and soul bonds to tell them both how absolutely pleased he was with their collaboration. Grace's demeanor remained guarded and stern, but a smug smile tugged at her lips. Pam's gratification tingled in his extremities moments later.

"Sit," the siren commanded. Eric removed his jacket, shirt and shoes, leaving him barefoot in black jeans. He lazily walked over to the chair, obeying but taking his time to complete her desired task. He did have a habit of resisting, after all.

"Shall I call you Mistress, then?" he purred, rescinding his fangs and draping himself across the sturdy arms of the chair. She moved to the other side of the room and his skin prickled with excitement. His need was too great to be a good participant; Eric wanted to get punished like Godric used to reprimand him. He reached out to pull her into his lap, but the singer evaded his attempt.

"There are ground rules we need to discuss first."

"Do we?" He licked his lips and sincerely hoped they could fast forward to the whipping part. He could barely contain his feral side when the opportunity was so close.

"Eric, take this seriously."

And that's when he felt it; her nervousness shimmered across their bond. She'd been putting on a good face, but deep down Grace was worried about how this would go. Her youth and inexperience started showing and Eric's drive softened. He'd been so focused on his previous desires that he'd failed to realize that Grace would never be Godric, she could only be herself. For this was not an ancient maker and progeny relationship. This was a siren and vampire bonded together as equal partners, which meant he needed to approach this experience differently and establish a new kind of trust.

"Have you been a domme before?" he asked gently.

"Not officially. And certainly not like this, we've got higher stakes." Her pulse started to quicken. "If my intention doesn't pan out, I get hurt. And you know I've harmed others before without meaning to."

"That was before you fully evolved," he pointed out. "And it never happened with your other test subject, did it?"

"No."

"Then I have faith in you, lover." Grace's heartbeat was still panicky and erratic. "We don't have to do this if you're not comfortable. You know that."

"I want to. Believe me, I do," she said with a sharp laugh. She opened her side of the bond and blasted him with her desire to prove her point. "But if I ever harmed you …"

"We'll start slow," he assured. "That worked before."

"We need a safe word." He almost retorted that Godric never allowed him that privilege before, but stopped himself. "What about …" She bit her lip. "… Wyoming? Fuck, is that weird? That's weird, maybe -"

"Works for me." She paused, her breath hitching. However, Eric noticed the singer unclench her fingers.

"And you promise to use it?"

"I will."

"And if you can't talk?"

"... I'll blink three times." Much like his SOS phone signal.

"Ok then," Grace sighed. Her heart rate started to slow and her body language became more fluid and relaxed now that things were becoming comfortable between them. She closed her eyes, took another deep breath and placed her character mask back on. The siren's eyes blazed when she opened them again; she was in control now. Eric's muscles tightened, his anticipation building.

"You will feel pleasure." Her intention of the session and he ached between his thighs, his desires skyrocketing already. "But I'm also going to restrain you. You gave an order that my last participant couldn't touch me, the same will apply to you. Understand?"

He wanted to fuck her right then and there for even suggesting the rule. He released his insatiable and impatient longing over both bonds.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" she answered with an arched brow.

Gods, she was perfect.

"Yes, Mistress," he smirked.

Grace nodded her head in approval and sensually swayed her hips as she made her way over to Eric. She halted in front of him, removed the corded rope belt of her chiton and bent down to tie his hands to the chair.

"May I resist, Mistress?" Eric asked, his eyes fluttering closed as he inhaled her intoxicating scent. She was so close, he wanted to touch her so badly.

"Lightly to start."

"Then you're going to need better restraints."

He balled up his fists and flexed his arms, breaking the flimsy cords to prove his point. Grace's mask faltered for a second - he was over a thousand years old, she really should have known better than to use a silly fashion rope if she was going to allow that - but he didn't touch her and break the rules once he was free. He wanted to ease into fully resisting her, she was still new after all and would need to learn to navigate his strength and desire for punishment.

"Thankfully Pam gave me these," Grace laughed. She produced handcuffs after reaching behind one of the velvet curtains; the same pair from Eric's bedside table, which he hadn't touched in forever. The Viking let his progeny feel his thirst once Grace clapped them together and better secured him to the chair. Pam's amusement hit him in response.

"There, better," the artist grinned. "Now we begin."

She threw him a scorching look before slinking away from the chair and running her hands over her newly tanned skin. Eric growled as he ogled her luscious ass - it was so juicy that it spilled out of his gigantic hands whenever he tried to grab it, which was fairly often - and watched her start to get in the mood.

A natural performer, she was giving him a private show. She swirled her hips, ran her red acrylic nails across her throat and caught his gaze again before opening her mouth to sing. She didn't need a band or a backup track, she commanded his attention using only her voice. He started craving and fiending for her as her aura charged up.

Do I move you, are you willin'?

Do I groove you, is it thrillin'?

Do I soothe you? Tell the truth now

Do I move you, are you loose now?

The answer better be yes

Suddenly, a visceral explosion of power hit him in the chest like his first cabaret experience. Only this time, it was much stronger. The electricity felt like it kickstarted his dead heartbeat and alongside it, ecstasy in the form of body heat. He was thunderstruck and had to do a quick scan to remind himself that he was dead, even though he was feeling physical sensations he hadn't experienced since before turning. How the fuck had she learned to do that?

Grace, meanwhile, remained stern and didn't care about his newfound wonder. She was a force that pulled him into her orbit, demanding his attention.

"I can feel it worked. But I want you to say it. What's your answer?"

He was still dead, he knew it. His fangs were even out. But fuck, he swore his heart muscles started pumping faster and his skin flushed.

"Yes, Mistress," Eric said, breathless. Even his lungs were starting to act like he wasn't a vampire. Grace smirked and opened her side of the bond, letting him feel her immense siren joy and arousal.

That pleases me

As she began to dance around once more, the feel of the room shifted and enhanced Pam's dark aesthetics. Another rush of sensual heat fanned out across his body and he experienced the world with profound amazement and the biggest hard on of his undead life. Which was saying something since Godric had learned how to push every one of his pleasure buttons.

This was an entirely new way to love as a vampire. He thought Sookie had made him feel human but this … Hoooolyyyy shit. His eyes were almost popping out of his skull from the riveting intensity of it all.

Are you ready for this action?

Does it give you satisfaction?

Are you hip to what I'm sayin'?

If you are, then let's start swayin'

The answer better be yes

Another passionate explosion brought him close to the brink and his urge to resist melted away as the aftershocks pulsed throughout his body. They'd get to that during another session. Because now, he wanted to savor the pure bliss. He didn't have to worry about the Authority, Bill or past sins - or be on guard to protect Grace, Pam or anyone else in his inner circle. He could let go, turn off his brain, experience the most mindblowing pleasure and do as he's told. He wasn't falling, he was flying. All thanks to her.

"Yes, Mistress."

That pleases me

Eric groaned as her primordial hunger roared over the bond. Godric's blood rushed through both their veins and he felt dizziness, warmth, intimacy, peace … and on top of it all, he was almost drunk like long ago when he'd had too much wine at joyous Viking feasts. Grace licked her lips - her earlier nervousness was gone, he could feel how much she enjoyed having this effect on him - and then pointed a finger at his bare chest. Eric almost came on the spot. She wasn't touching him, but it sure as shit felt like it. Her gesture sent ripples of pleasure throughout his entire body and his ghost heartbeat was on overdrive and roaring in his ears. He could barely breathe.

She smirked and dragged her finger downwards (fuuuuuuck!) towards the chiseled V muscles of his hips.

When I touch you do you quiver?

From your head down to your liver?

If you like it, let me know it

Don't be psychic or you'll blow it

The answer better be yes

Her finger stopped at his crotch and her powers clamped around his cock and surrounded it with tantalizing heat. It was like he was inside her already and that was all it took. The sensations were too much, his yearning and lust too great. He let out an inhuman roar, threw his head back as his body spasmed against the restraints and climaxed in a spectacular fashion, still inside his jeans and without her ever having to physically touch him.

He saw stars on the back of his eyelids as his muscles unclenched. He was astounded; it was like he'd died and gone to Valhalla instead of becoming a vampire. Yet when the Sheriff remembered how to use his neck again and moved to face her, he knew his release wouldn't be enough of an answer. He would do as she commanded.

"Yes, Mistress," he growled.

Grace's breathing patterns were wild and ragged as she absorbed his desire alongside the highs of her siren abilities. He could hear her heart pumping at full speed and the vampire blood inside her fed off the exhilaration bouncing around his own veins. Pam's, too. She let out a naughty cackle and threw her arms out in triumph.

Great God almighty, that pleases me!

She directed her powers inwards this time; ravenous and raunchy need hit him through their bond as she experienced the same electricity from earlier. She held on for as long as she could, but it quickly overwhelmed her just as it had with Eric. She shrieked, dropped to her knees as her body gave way and let him feel every. single. detail. of her steamy orgasm.

His cock stood at attention; he was immediately ready for round two. Eric tugged against his restraints, wanting nothing more than to fuck Grace senseless for the rest of the evening. He needed to return the favor for giving him such pleasure. He almost broke the chair to get out of his predicament but the sound of his cuffs scrapping against the wooden arms got her attention and she gave him an absolutely crazed look.

"Come and geeeeet meeeeeeeee," she sang, her voice guttural and aching. His cuffs immediately opened and fell to the floor.

Instead of pausing to marvel at how strong she'd become and the different levels of skill she'd exhibited that evening, Eric sped into action. His animalistic urges demanded it. In a blink of an eye, he lept out of the chair, tackled her to the ground, tore off her thong, unzipped his jeans to free himself and thrust inside her. Grace gasped - surprised at how quickly he moved and the immense gratification from their union - and rocked her hips, letting her walls grip his cock. His desire grew exponentially now that he was really experiencing her tight, wet heat.

He didn't care that they were still wearing clothes, he was too desperate. When he grunted and roughly pounded her again, she cried out and dug her nails into his back, drawing blood. It ignited his vampiric tendencies and Eric started to lose his sense of reality as he pumped in and out, fucking her over and over and over and over. The electrifying thrill was the only thing he could focus on.

"A-aahh, Eric! … D-don't stop … Unnf! ... Nnnf! … Mmmfffp! Fuck! Just like that … Eric! Haahhh!… Yes, yessssssss! … Fuck! … Fuck! … YES! … Unnnnnfffff, just fucking bite me already, f-fuck -"

In a flash, his fangs sunk into her neck; she let out another undignified groan and burst again. Eric followed shortly after - pulsing inside her while tasting the spicy arousal and power in her blood - and closed his eyes to better experience her feelings through the rest of his senses. The vampire had been through a lot in his existence, chasing the idea of rare and unique experiences that no one else could have. It made immortality more appealing. And now he'd found the jackpot after so many years. He never wanted to forget what it felt like to make her come, for it was downright magical.

A giggle escaped her lips. It was soft at first but quickly grew into a boisterous laugh. Eric rescinded his fangs and couldn't help but mirror her mood. He grinned like a madman as he slid from her entrance and unraveled onto the floor beside her. He kicked off his pants and Grace tugged at her now completely disheveled wig. She shook her head to release her natural brown tresses and sighed luxuriously.

"I feel like a, like a slice of butter ... melting on top of a big ol' pile of flapjacks," she drawled. Her body shook lightly as she suppressed another round of giggles. "Man, I love Pineapple Express. Such a good line and so true right now."

Eric didn't understand her movie quote but was so wrapped up in his love for her and the new way they'd found to express it that it didn't matter. Because now he finally had someone who knew him - the bad and the good parts of him, the vampire and human - and still chose to be by his side. Grace embraced him as his maker had experienced with his bright light in Paris. She truly loved him and Eric finally let himself feel happy without remorse because of it. He growled playfully and nipped at her earlobe, laughing when she started to make incoherent, bubbly noises.

"Fuck, I can't believe that worked!" she said incredulously, teasing him by pushing him away from her neck. "We're absolutely doing this again."

A roguish grin appeared on his face. Apparently he hadn't been forthcoming enough about his stamina; unlike most of their encounters, they had many hours left before sunrise.

"Who said we're done now?"

Author's note: well this chapter certainly had a mind of its own! I realized I was writing Eric like Godric and went hmmm you know who would be the best person to tell him NOT to behave that way? The man himself. So I made him a little more sentient and just ran with it. Also side note, someday I may do a Godric/Céline mini series because that 'parable' is living rent free in my head now. I NEED IT. As for the second half … I blame Troyboi, specifically his tracks 'Do You?' and 'Bellz' :P

It seems like my rhythm is posting once a month, but as mentioned last time, I have a trip coming up so the next one will be a bit longer. Hopefully happy Eric will hold you over - he's back, baby!

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, this fandom isn't dead and you're all such lovely people, thank you thank you for taking the time to comment (and for a few of you, becoming my discord friend!). I appreciate you so much, I hope you know that!