GOLDEN BLOOD

She was real; he kissed her to make sure of it. She was alive; her scent filled his nostrils. Her nearness stirred his desire and his hunger. And oh... she was even more, beautiful than before. He cursed under his breath that he looked so weak compared to her.

He wanted her, all of her, he had an almost overpowering urge to take her with him. But he was all too aware of the people in the house.

Why doesn’t she remember me?

Then he laughed softly, how amazing it is to fall in love again with the love of his life.

The whole night Paris couldn’t get him out of her mind. She closed her eyes only so she could concentrate on his finest features; a strong jawline, deep green eyes, and a sharp nose. So handsome. Even though he was lean, he was helluva a lot attractive. The most important part of her disorder was that she’d forgotten his name. She constrained herself, on her brain, to recall every forgotten detail of him. But failed to do so.

The two moments Paris had spent with him had left quite an impression on her. How could she feel so strongly about him so soon?

She blushed inwardly, remembering how he kissed her. His words came to her mind. “You’re going to fall in love with me, Paris.” She smiled at that.

And the truth was, she already was falling in love with him and she was missing him. More than anything, she wanted that physical link, the touch, to get to know him—unfortunately all over again.

Only his smallest touch had left all her emotions clung deep down to her soul for him.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t understand why she was crying over a person she’d met for less than a minute and was missing him.

The next day Paris wore a lovely dress, did her hair, and sat on the lawn waiting for him. She could hardly wait to see him again. She blushed inwardly, remembering how he kissed her. Will he kiss me again? she thought.

“Paris, have you been sitting on the lawn since I left this morning.”

“He never came, Mom.”

“Oh, Paris...” Pauline sat next to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been dating, seeing someone,” Pauline said. Her expression grew worried. “You’ve always told me everything. I just wonder why you’ve kept it from me?”

“I wished I’d never forgotten anything.”

“Should you even trust him, Paris?”

“I don’t know.”

For the next three days, Paris still went to her window and spent watching, counting the moments of time looking out the window for him. Staring at the same spot waiting for him to reappear. She lingered, torn between wanting to see him again, and her instinct telling her to stay exactly where she was.

He’ll come, he promised.

But he never came to visit her.

~*~

At the Mansion:

Terence suggested an idea. He was trying to convince his Master to host a small gathering. Alexander was completely against it. The love of his life has no recollection of him, so no, he wasn’t in the mood for the party. When Terence mentioned inviting Paris to the party, and to that, Alexander could not deny his appeal.

The invitations were mailed to others, except for Paris. Terence went himself to deliver the invitation and to make sure she promised to attend.

He had missed her too.

~*~

“Paris! There’s a man here to see you.” Pauline hollered from the foyer. Paris was upstairs in her room, reading some cookbooks and making notes.

’Is it Him? she thought, and Paris came flying off the stairs.

“Paris, slow down.” Her mother glared at her.

She peeked through the door and saw... a different man.

“Hello.” Paris greeted him.

“Hello, Miss Noel. My name is Terence—”

“Terence? That name sounds like Terrace.” Paris blurted out.

Terence was dumbfounded.

“Paris, that is not a nice way to mock someone’s name.” Her mother scowled at her.

“I’m sorry.” She pouted.

“I’m sorry too, Mr. Terence. Would you like to come in?” Pauline asked.

“No, thank you, ma’am. I’m here to deliver an invitation. A small function is held at the Desmodus Estate, and Miss Paris Noel has been invited.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Pauline exclaimed, but still confused.

“Why am I getting invited to the party? How do you know me?” Paris asked, feeling skeptical.

“You’ve been at the Estate a couple of times and fed to my Master, and he would like to—”

“Oh, but I-I don’t cook anymore,” Paris said almost sadly. He nodded in understanding.

“Well, you’re invited to the party and not to cook. My Master had personally sent me to invite you.”

“Master…? Who is he?” she asked.

“You met him the other day.” He said quietly. And Paris thought ran off to the man she had met a week ago. ‘Him’

She smiled. She was thrilled to meet him again. “I won’t miss it for the world.”

“I’ll come personally to pick you up. Have a good evening,” he said. Then before turning to leave.

“Umm... and you’re right; my name does sound like Terrace.” The man was amused by it.

Paris giggled before closing the door.

~*~

On the day of the party...

Alexander didn’t come out of his office to greet and meet the people at the gathering. The only reason he agreed to even have this event was that Paris was coming; otherwise, he’d absolutely no interest in meeting anyone in particular.

As promised Terence picked up Paris, he could tell she was nervous.

As Paris entered the mansion her scent flowed right through Alexander’s nostrils. She had arrived.

Alexander got up to fix his attire, ​​he checked his gold cufflinks pulled both sleeves straight with precision, and made his way to the party.

Paris walked into the assemblage, she didn’t recognize any of the faces. ′I shouldn’t have come.′ She cursed at herself. She also felt socially awkward and out of place.

Alexander watched his mate from the shadows before entering the grand hall. Her eyes, he noticed, they were curious and searching. Perhaps him? His lips twisted, giving his gorgeous face a cynical cast.

Alexander entered the room. Through the crowd, she saw him and her heart jumped. All that anxiety of being alone in the gathering vanished. His presence had somehow amplified the energy in the room with his arrival.

All through the crowd, he maintained his distance from her. Paris’s eyes never left him; she was looking at him with curiosity, intrigued. He looked good and much healthier from the last time she saw him. He stood out from the crowd, tall, fierce, and powerful.

Her gaze followed every which way he went. But he wasn’t even glancing at her. Alexander knew all along Paris had been watching him. The man just loves to tease.

He was meeting people, welcoming them, shaking their hands, talking, and smiling with them. When she saw the curve of his mouth go up, she couldn’t deny his mouth on her, kissing her, on her body, and doing things—amazing things. Paris looked away to shake her lewd thoughts.

“Well… Hello.” A woman’s voice came from behind. Alexander turned and met her eyes.

Paris saw him and the woman standing next to him. She was beautiful but felt menacing. Up until now, Paris swore she left a strong connection between them, but now she wasn’t so sure of it. Maybe her heart guessed it all wrong, she thought.

The way the other woman was clinging onto him dearly. He bent down to whisper in her ear and she gasped at whatever he’d said to her.

A big part of Paris held anger and jealousy seeing the other woman next to him. Here she was longing for him and jealousy flooded her mind, seeing them together.

“Clearly you forgot to invite me to the party?” she said.

“I didn’t forget. I forbade it. What are you doing here, Melissa?” he asked her in a menacing tone.

Melissa hooked her hand on his arm. “It’s been so long. I’ve missed how you fucked me. If only these walls could talk.”

“Get the hell out of here Melissa, and don’t ever show me your face again.”

Paris heard all of it.

Of course, he was busy sleeping with other women. A handsome, rich man like him; the woman must be bowing and fawning for praise and power. There was no difference between her and the other women; falling in love with a man like him. He had it all; a certain appeal that most women find hard to resist.

Feeling stupid and ridiculous Paris wanted nothing more than to walk away. She got up and went out of the back door. Paris carefully examined her surroundings. Finding herself alone she was above to teleport herself when—

“Paris.” Her heart thumped at his voice. It offered a kind of joy—him coming after her—finding her.

She turned around. “You shouldn’t give false hope of love when you sleep around.” She said bitterly. She did want to say ‘Fuck’ but… Oh well, she was an Angel.

Alexander smirked. “Are you jealous, Paris?”

Yes, she was. She couldn’t deny it. She looked flustered, upset, and angry. Alexander loved it. No, he adored it, that she felt jealous. It only means that she still loves him and all he had to do was to remind her.

“You’re leaving without even meeting with me?”

There was no triumph in Paris’s feature. “You seemed more important and busy. And to answer your question, yes, I was leaving. And thank you for inviting me to the party and I hope to never see you again.” Paris couldn’t help but sound irritated.

Alexander towered over her with his six-foot frame, his scent apparently mixed with the other woman’s scent surrounding her which greatly offended her and made her a little angry.

“Six months I’ve been in an agony of hell, after losing you. Buried alive in darkness with only memories of you. So you cannot say to never want to see me again, Paris.” The edge in his voice and the spark of temper in his dark gaze were serious and probing.

In spite of all her doubts about him, she felt the genuine truth in his words, he was hurt. “I’m sorry for leaving you.”

“Why don’t you remember me, Paris?” he scowled at her. His gaze was hard and his frown dense.

Her gaze was soft compared to his. “I do want to remember you—badly. Would you even believe me, if I told you I’ve been thinking about you a lot? Waited for you to show up again, but you never visited me. You’ve been on my mind constantly and I wish I’d never forgotten you.” She felt guilty for not remembering him at all.

“Then come with me.”

“Where?” she asked.

“Do you want me to help you remember me?” he said.

“That will be very generous of you.” She smiled with hope.

“Let’s go.” Alexander offered her his open palm. Her heartbeat increased.

“Now?”

“Yes, now.” He said with this smoldering charm.

“I don’t know if I should.” Paris grimaced, as the scent of that other woman was strong and still lingering on him which increasingly irritated her.

“Paris, all I want is to be with you.” He assured her. “Shall we?”

She took into his handsome face. Then she took a deep breath and placed her hand on his—an overwhelming tingling ran up her hands.

He looked dark and dangerous in a way that excited her. Alexander swiftly picked her up in a bridal style, and before she could yelp or question—he took off... someplace where they both could be alone.

The ride was so fast Paris felt her head spin.

Paris examined the place he’d brought her; it was what looked like his bedroom. It was semi-dark, illuminated by the moonlight. The bed was huge; big enough to roll two bodies—naked bodies.

Alexander was watching her, how her gaze was scanning the whole room and was lingering over the bed for a moment longer.

“Lot had happened in here, Paris,” Alexander said, flattening his hands on the wall on either side of her ears.

“H-have we...” she paused to swallow, “...made love?”

“Wildly.” He closed the distance between them. Her mind was predicting, but his intentions were clear.

She inhaled a slow deep breath, as he leaned close to her, making her fully aware of it.

“I’d kissed these lips more than you can count, Paris.” He murmured huskily. She closed her fist on her dress material and bit her bottom lip.

“My mouth has been on your body; places you would only want... more,” he brushed his lips on her jaw. Unknowingly she stretched her neck long, giving him more access.

“I’ve bitten you. Drank you, Paris.” He grazed his teeth on her neck gently, and her skin ignited with wild tingles. It was becoming impossible for Paris to where to put her concentration—on his words or on his mouth.

He began to draw an imaginary line with his finger, starting from her jawline.

He brushed his thumb over her dress, remembering her raspberry-hued nipples. “You like them to be teased... a lot.”

She felt her breast tight and her nipples hard under his touch. Her breath was trembling. His name was on the tip of her tongue and yet she couldn’t grasp it.

“I had licked you all the way from here...” He continued to his fingertips down from the center of her heart, slowly trailing down to her stomach.

She saw the heat of desire, the spark of passion grow in those green eyes. She gave out a rasping gasp when he stopped right below her belly button.

“... to here.” Alexander felt her quivering under him. He looked cool as hail, but his erection was hot, throbbing painfully in his trousers.

Frozen in shock, she gaped at him. When he pressed the hard length of his erection against her belly. “Only you make things hard for me.”

Stunned, and speechless. She felt her sweat trickle down her spine. A tingle ran down from her chest to there. The air around them filled with desire only wished to be possessed. Both their bodies burned, demanding to be touched by each other, screaming for the most satisfying, hot moaning sex.

Paris pulsed raced horses in her veins; she was tense, frightened. She tried to hide her reaction, but Alexander could see and sense his mate was a little uncomfortable, not because she didn’t trust him. It was from the lack of her memory. He was still a stranger to her.

Composing herself, she tucked her loose hair strand behind her ear. A sign that she was nervous. Alexander noticed.

“I-I need little time to know you...” She whispered. Then she saw his sad smile; his face was drawn down in the dump. He probably didn’t like it any more than she did.

“I understand.” He agreed—compromising the circumstances one more time.

“Thank you for understanding my situation,” Paris said she was so pleased and satisfied, that he acknowledged her condition.

The Vampire leaned down to peck a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll wait for you, Paris. As long as you want.” He took a couple of steps back to give her some breathing space.

“I-I don’t remember your name. What is it?”

“When you’ll remember my name, you can call me then.” He challenged her. “But no cheating.” He added, a charming smile curving his lips.

“By what name should I call you until then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe honey, darling, sweetheart, or beloved. You choose.” He said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Hmm...” she took a moment to think. “I think I have it.” She smiled mischievously.

“Have you?” he shot his one eyebrow up.

She nodded with excitement.

“What is it?”

“You’re very strong and powerful. The authority you hold, and your dominating demeanor. I think it perfectly suits you to be called... Master.” She whispered the last word almost sexily.

‘Fuck! That was sexy coming out of her angelic lips.’

His face went hot. His pants got even tighter.

And, yup! She noticed and flushed at the sight.

His burning eyes lingered on her lips. Desire started to ignite the atmosphere again. He started to walk towards her. Gaze beheld so intensely; it made her feel very conscious.

Alexander grabbed her chin and slowly made her look up at him. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

He pulled her close to his chest, leaning down, his hot breath against her ear, he murmured, “Let me kiss you.”

She wanted it badly ever since she’d met him, ever since she landed on earth and saw him. “Yes, please.” She said, almost breathless.

He grabbed hold of her, and his hungry hot mouth found hers, sealing his lips to hers; he kissed her almost angrily at first for forgetting him. It was a fierce kiss, filled with a fierce yearning.

Her hands moved over him, molding her body to his. Then he kissed her, with wishes, and needs, more strongly than ever.

He’d missed her so deeply.

He was convinced that he would never see Paris ever again but here she was so alive and in his arms again. Parting her lips with demanding force, he dipped his tongue into her mouth. His being wanted to run wild. Now that he kissed her he wanted to drink her blood. He almost lost control Alexander diverted his mouth from her lips and leaned down and fervently licked her neck, that sweet delicious spot.

“I want to drink you, Paris.”

Swayed by the intensity of this widely passionate kiss. She barely paid any attention, bemusedly aching with the intensity of her arousal, she was being pursued by him. “Yes, Master.”

“Fuck.” He growled at the word she called him again. He bit her, and warm blood ran into his mouth. He drank her deeply, replenishing badly in need of her vital red fluids.

Paris clutched at his shoulder for support, then she felt his fairly rigid bone structure on his back—where the wings were connected. She ran her hands over them.

Her eyes flew open, and she saw a man standing before her. He had morphed into a half-creature. She saw the same monster that had appeared in her nightmares. Alexander’s mouth was covered in blood, and he was watching her greedily. It was the same scene, identical to the one that came into her horrors.

And nothing was the same after the Bloody Monster came.

“It’s... it was you. You haunted my dreams...”

“Are you scared of me, Paris?” his voice was thick and deep.

She didn’t speak. He got worried. He cursed and beat himself for not holding on to his desire.

“Are you alright, Paris?” he asked. He wanted to know.

She could sense his disappointment. “Y-you would never hurt me, right?”

“Never, I would never hurt you, Paris.” He grabbed her face gently, looking deeply into her now scary skeptical eyes. “I love you, Paris. I love you very much.”

Someone outside of the room was eavesdropping on their conversation and the person was not so happy.

~xXx~