Moonlit Surrender

Once they entered John's apartment, Lucy took a seat on the worn couch and waited as he bustled about, lighting a few candelabra to bring the room alive with warmth and gentle light rather than the harsh white of the florescent bulbs in the lamps. She ran her hand along the worn fabric of the old couch and smiled as she felt all the things he had done to her on these cushions all over again.

He stopped on the other side of the coffee table and loosened his tie and unfastened the top button of his shirt and hesitated moving to her. There was an air of concern and reluctance in the room, and as he waited longer, Lucy sensed a subtle note of fear.

"It's okay, John," she assured softly. "I'm not afraid of you. I want this. I want you to taste me."

He let out a heavy, laden sigh and at last crossed around the table and took a seat next to her. "It's not something I'm in control of. I don't want to hurt you."

"I like it when you hurt me," she said and smirked coquettishly.

He chuckled and shook his head, as he muttered to himself, "Brave little one."

She rose to her feet to stand in front of him and shimmied out of each article of clothing, letting each piece fall to the floor until she stood before him bare and open. He watched her curiously but did not question her naked body, or the kiss she placed on his lips. Slowly, she settled herself down onto his thighs and sat straddling him as her small hands cradled his face to hers and brought their lips together. Lucy moaned as she felt him stiffen beneath her. Slowly, she ground down onto him as her lips parted to his and he swept his tongue through her mouth with his hands running over the curve of her thighs, following to her ass and into the gentle slope of her waist. She reached down between them and unbuckled his belt and opened his slacks. With an effortless show of preternatural strength, he rose up to his feet with her wrapped tightly about him, pushed his pants to the floor, stepped out of them and headed towards the bedroom. Holding her easily with one arm, he reached out and plucked a candelabrum from the end table and brought it with them to set on the dresser before taking her to his bed.

Gingerly, he tossed her back onto his plush pillows and then climbed on top of her and let her finish undressing him until they both lay naked in each other's arms atop his heavy maroon duvet. He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead tenderly before sinking himself into her. They moved slowly, savoring one another's bodies, touching and kissing and exploring every inch of each other as he slid slowly in and out of her. She curled her fingers into the crisp whorls of hair sprinkled across his chest and then tickled over his shoulders and down his toned arms as she arched up into his every thrust. Slowly, his kisses trailed from her mouth, down her jaw, and then to the lobe of her ear to nibble and suck before gradually moving lower. Sensing the moment approaching, she turned her head to the side and stretched out to expose her neck as much as possible to him.

He sighed heavily and brushed the stray strands of hair away from her skin, then carefully lowered his mouth to her, never ceasing the slow rhythm of his cock sliding in and out of her. His lips touched first, cool, but soft. They moved across her skin in a delicate embrace, then his tongue darted out and ran along the length of her neck and over the fluttering artery just beneath the surface, shuddering against her as he did, ceasing his thrusting momentarily as something far more decadent called to him.

"I'm yours," she whispered as she closed her eyes in anticipation as he silently wrestled with himself. "Take me," she whispered again.

He groaned and held her tight, leaving himself sheathed in her warmth and softness as he hovered over her neck. She took a deep breath and then his teeth sunk into her. She whimpered loudly, unprepared for the pain. She thought it would only be a pinch, but found it far more shocking than a mere needle prick. She heard the sound of her skin breaking and then the deep gulps that followed. She quivered and squirmed beneath him and dug her nails into his shoulders as she bore the pain and surrendered herself to him.

Moans rumbled in John's chest as he drank deeply from her, his delight sounding closer to anguish than pleasure. Then, his hips moved again, fucking her harder now as he suckled the wound on her neck.

She felt herself growing light-headed, and in that otherworldly suspension she felt her body tumble quickly into ecstasy, as if it were his hand around her throat. She felt herself floating away, but then tethered back to the earth by the sting of his bite, and all she felt was the pleasure of his cock moving in her and the feel of his body grinding against her. With a weak cry, she felt herself come, and then fell back into the softness of his bed wrapped in a cocoon of warmth humming through her body.

He tore himself away from her throat with a tormented groan, as if he had been called away from heaven itself. He growled without reserve, letting out that fearful deep rumble in his chest that made him seem more beast than man as he hovered over her. Firmly fixed between her thighs, he threw himself in and out of her with a reckless abandon as his gray eyes faded to black like a shark on the hunt. He cursed and swore as her smeared blood around his mouth dribbled down his chin and dripped onto her heaving breasts and Lucy watched as the cool and composed man she knew transformed into something uncontrollable and dark. She stared up at him wide-eyed as he shuddered and spilled his seed in her and felt a morbid infatuation with this wild creature desperately clawing at her from the pleasure he found in her. Instead of the repulsion or terror he had seemed to expect from her, she felt satisfaction and excitement.

He let out a satiated moan as he sat back on his heels and gradually regained his composure. His impossibly sharp canines retracted until they were hidden behind his lips once more and the black orbs of his eyes cleared as if a heavy mist were dissipating until the familiar slate gaze she had grown so fond of focused on her worriedly. He reached down to inspect the severity of the wound he had left on her, then reached up to her cheek. "Are you all right? Did I take too much?" She felt weak and as though she was still floating, but did not feel seriously injured. She smiled wide. "I'm fine. I'll be fine." She tried to prop herself up on her elbow, but he quickly pressed her back down onto the pillows. "No, rest. Let me get you some water." He stepped down off the bed. "Stay here and don't try to get up. I'll take care of everything."

Quickly, he hurried out of the bedroom and was back at her side before she had barely watched him leave. He touched a warm washcloth to her and dabbed away the blood across her breasts and neck as he held a cool glass of water with a straw bent down to her. After he finished wiping her down, he swiped the blood away from his own face, then sat down on the edge of the bed beside her and watched her worriedly as she drew deep gulps from the glass of water. "When you're feeling up to it, I'll draw you a hot bath, but in the meantime don't try to push yourself. Do you understand?" he asked sternly.

"Yes, sir," she answered softly.

His brow furrowed and his thin lips settled into a grimace as he pulled the blankets over her cold body. "You must think me a monster now. I shouldn't have agreed to... I should've said no. What a despicable show." She reached out and grasped his hand in hers. She was surprised to find it warm. "You're not a monster to me."

Wild, uncontrollable, lost in pleasure; he was beautiful, she thought.

"I'd like to do it again," she added.

His stern expression broke into a surprised laugh and he shook his head. "Is that so? Well, let's get you recovered from this time first, shall we?"

"What happens if you were to drink every last drop?" she asked.

He looked at her warily, hesitating for a moment. "It would kill you."

"Is that how a person becomes a vampire?"

"Why is this something you wish to know? But, no, there are other steps."

There was a warning in his eyes and she dropped the subject, having only asked out of sheer curiosity.

"Do you feel up to standing?" he asked as he set the glass of water on the table beside them.

She nodded, "I think I can."

"Stay here then while I draw that bath." He left the bed and the light from the en suite spilled into the dim room as the rushing of water echoed through the apartment. He returned quickly and helped her carefully rise to a sitting position, fully propped against him. He waited a long moment, making sure the movement didn't cause her to faint, then scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the claw foot tub steaming at the far side of the bathroom.

She caught her reflection in the clean mirrors as they passed the marble counters and was startled not by the red of her blood still staining her skin or the gory wound on her neck, but by the sight of the man holding her.

"I see you!" she exclaimed in shock, nodding to the mirror. "How?"

He paused and turned to view the same sight, then continued on until he carefully lowered her into the warm water.

"The mirror I first showed you is an antique, whereas the one over the sink is modern," he explained.

She scrunched her nose in confusion. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

He rose and headed to the mirror in question to wash himself in the sink and scrub away her remaining dried blood from his scruffy chin. "Mirrors were once backed with a reflective layer of silver," he continued to explain. "Modern mirrors use aluminum instead. The vampires and silver thing is, unfortunately, true."

"I feel tricked," she chuckled.

"Tricked? You were expecting the traditional vampire. It was far more dramatic to show you the antique mirror," he grinned. "Would you have believed me without it?"

She felt life returning to her slowly, warmed by the steaming bath, and sank lower into it. "Well I certainly believe you now, reflection or no."

He tossed the stained towel he had used to wipe his face into a hamper in the corner and then knelt down beside the tub to help wash her wound. He dipped his hand into the water and ran it across her chest and over her neck before grabbing a cloth to lather with soap and gently cleanse her skin.

She relaxed against the cool porcelain lip of the bathtub and looked at him in wonder. "I want to know you," she said softly.

"You know me more than any of my other students," he teased playfully.

She smiled, reflecting on all the personal ways she knew him and her peers never would. She sighed and watched him cup water to rinse her neck. "Well, I want to know you more then."

"More," he smiled. "Yes, you have quite the appetite, don't you? Always more with you."

"Where did you live when you were mortal?" she asked, boldly pushing her way past his teasing. "What did you do then?"

He rose and crossed the room to a decorative bowl and pitcher. "London. I was a carpenter. It was my family's trade." He plucked the pitcher off the table and returned to her, dipping it into the water to pour into her hair. "Were you ever married?" She wasn't sure if it was impolite to ask, but curiosity overcame her. She wanted to know everything about him and everywhere he had been. How many stories he must've collected across the centuries. "I was, once, but that was another life - a few ago actually. It was before my immortal transformation." He paused, then added, "I had a daughter once as well, but she was taken by plague very young."

"I'm so sorry,” she whispered, shocked.

"Death is the natural order of things. Some find it sooner than others. It is a cruel lesson to be learned, but a necessary one. Don't pity me, sweetheart. It has been ages since. All of them are gone now, returned to the dust long ago." "I can't imagine having to live so long and watch everyone I know and love... pass." She felt a great sadness weighing in her heart and despite his words, she felt a pain in her chest for him and all the loss he must have and would no doubt continue to experience.

He gave a slight shrug as he worked a lather of shampoo through her long hair and she leaned forward for him and crossed her legs, beginning to feel her strength very slowly returning.

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"You carry them with you through the memories. Facts and particulars may eventually fade the longer time stretches on, but their presence, their life, stays with you. The only difference between you and me is that I've had longer to collect more people to carry with me. We all go through loss in life no matter how long we're here."

She wiggled her black painted toes beneath the murky water stained by her blood and wondered still if she could ever bear loss on such a grand scale as he. When he had first confessed his nature to her, he had told her he was lonely. She felt the pressure of warm tears straining behind her eyes now that she understood the depth of his words. Lonely couldn't possibly begin to describe such an existence.

He rinsed the last of the suds from her hair and guided her back down to rest on her back. His hand drifted over the parts of her body peeking up out of the water. "You are so beautiful," he muttered softly, his eyes following his hands. She squirmed nervously, nearly incapable of receiving such a compliment. "I... have a lot of flaws." She laughed nervously.

He chuckled warmly. "Perhaps, but it is your imperfection that is so breathtaking. This freckle here, on your left breast, for instance, or the scars that carry stories with them. Even the stretch marks along your curves where you grew into womanhood hold beauty. You are a monument to life, Lucy." He pulled her hand out of the water to bring up to his lips tenderly. "Always, I can taste the sunlight on your skin when I kiss you. You are the daylight in my darkness. You bring warmth and life into the cold shadows in which I reside."

She stared up at him speechless, her lips parted but she was too dumbstruck to mutter a syllable. Never had anyone uttered anything remotely like the words he said softly to her now.

He did not ask for a response or even wait for one. He said what he meant to and then reached into the tub and pulled the stopper, sending the water loudly rushing down the drain. He slipped his hand in hers again and pulled her up onto her wobbly legs.

"How do you do that?" she asked, her jaw still slack in wonder as she looked up at him.

"I thought by now you'd have pieced together the superhuman strength," he said and smirked.

"Not that. How is everything you do always so... intentional?"

He carefully guided her out and onto the soft bathmat to catch the last few droplets rolling off of her. "You should be living your life, dear, no one else. Live deliberately." He pulled a towel from the rack on the wall and gently patted her dry, from her long hair down to her pedicured toes.

He smiled up at her, then added with a wink, "Do keep in mind I've had a bit more practice at it than you. I have made plenty of mistakes of my own."

She laughed and nodded. "That's right, isn't it? You have been around a lot longer than me, old man."

He tossed the towel into the hamper as he rose back to his imposing height and grabbed her jaw in his wide palm. "Respect your elders, little girl."

She felt a foreboding tingling tickle down her spine and squirmed with a sudden want.

Nothing escaped his perceptive gray gaze. "Are you still my little slut, sweetheart?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

A grin tugged at the corner of his stern mouth. "Good girl."

Good god, I feel like I might pass out just standing here, but I'd risk it to fuck him one more time, she thought.

"I'd like to put that to the test," he replied low, his voice deepened to a sexy rumble from lust. "But we've pushed you far enough tonight. You need to finish recovering. I'll make you a snack for the road to help."

"For the road?" she asked confused.

"I'm afraid I need to get you home a little earlier than usual tonight. I have some personal matters to attend to."

Oh shit! Ben! I was supposed to be home already having a life altering argument! Shit! Shit! Shit! She thought to herself. She nodded to John and followed him back through the bedroom and into the dimly lit main area where they redressed and John fetched her a special snack bar to help her feel better. After thanking him and making sure to take a bite in his presence so he knew she'd eat it, they made their descent to his black sedan.

He leaned into the passenger seat and gingerly fastened her into her seatbelt. "Would you prefer I take you back to the school parking lot or directly home? It's a short flight for me to drop your car off for you."

She remembered the last time he had done so, and even fixed her shaky steering. "Flight?" she asked confused.

He nodded. "I can take the form of a bat when needed. I'm much faster with wings. They've yet to release a speed limit for flying vampires around here."

She wished she were able to witness him zooming through the night sky, but instead teased with a playful giggle, "Well I hear it's important to stay active at your age. Good for you."

"We both know I stay plenty active," he grinned as he bent down to kiss her with warm lips and soft sighs against her mouth.

She pulled away in shock as she stared at him. "You... you're warm," she muttered.

"You've brought me back to life for a time by sharing with me some of yours." He kissed her once more, slowly grazing over her lips and tasting them with savoring hot licks. He pulled away and cupped her cheek in his heated palm. "What you gave me tonight was a privilege and like nothing I've ever had before. Thank you."

"It's not like that with... Doris?" she asked meekly.

He laughed gently and shook his head vehemently. "No, sweetheart, nothing like it. Not even a little." He ran his thumb across the velvet of her moistened bottom lip and then closed the car door and crossed around to get into the driver's seat.

"Is that... Is she part of the personal matters you need to take care of?"

He shifted gears and sent the car into motion. "She has played a role in my affairs, I fear. Yes, she is part of the business I need to take care of. Don't give it another thought. It's nothing I want you worrying over."

Lucy nodded, but still secretly wondered what personal affairs a vampire might have to tend to or how he intended to deal with Doris Pemberley, the woman blackmailing him into being her little novelty, lest she declare his secret to all the world and risk his life to people who might want vampires gone. Then, her wondering turned to her own matters. What mess was she about to walk into once she opened her front door and returned home to a raging fiancé, the one whom she had stood up to be with her secret vampire lover?

His car stopped by the curb outside her house and she cringed at the thought of what waited for her. She felt John's fingers slip under her chin and turn her attention back to him. "I'm sorry if I frightened you at all tonight. All that blood," he muttered softly. "It must have been quite a shock. I want you to drink plenty of fluids and get lots of rest."

"You still don't frighten me, John," she smiled.

He seemed surprised for a moment, but then smiled. "My, you are a curious creature. You walk the shadows with me as if they were already your home." He chuckled.

She shrugged sheepishly. "Well, I always wanted to be a gothic princess. You have no idea how many cheesy vampire romance novels I read as a teenager. None of them could have prepared me for you, though."

"You can be my gothic princess, if that's something you'd like."

"Do I get a tiara?" She beamed.

He laughed. "Well, of course! What is a princess without her tiara? We will certainly have to get you one."

She felt her cheeks beginning to ache from the smile that covered her face. "Thank you for tonight. I always have such a good time with you." She began to reach for the door handle, but then paused, deciding to take a page from his book. "Thank you for trusting me with your... special kiss."

His grin deepened to a full smile, a slight blush in his cheeks from her blood coursing through him. He rested his big hand over hers in her lap. "It was my pleasure, princess."

She was shocked to find a word she could melt even harder over than the two she so often craved from him. She had not thought it possible to feel her heart pound faster or blood rush quicker from any other set of words from his lips than good girl, yet here she sat in a lusty puddle. "Are you sure I have to go?" she whispered longingly.

His gaze softened on her and he touched her cheek sympathetically. "We'll do this again. In fact, when I return, maybe I'll share some of that 'more' you've been asking after and regale you with a few stories."

"I'd like that very much."

He dug in his pocket suddenly and pulled out his keys. "I want you to have this." He slipped a key off the key ring and handed it to her. "If you ever find yourself in trouble, you come to me."

She held the cool key in her palm and turned it over a couple times, then chuckled, "What sort of trouble are you expecting me to get into?"

He was silent a little too long. "The world is as dangerous as it is wonderful, Lucy. Just promise me you won't hesitate to come to me for help with anything."

"I promise,” she answered softly, a sense of foreboding tickling the hairs at the back of her neck.

He leaned in and left one more kiss on her lips before they bade each other good night and Lucy stepped out into the cold night to wander up the dark pathway to face the conversation she had been dreading all night.