Blood Craving: Dragostea Unui Vampir (Short Story)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Vivian knew exactly what he was, she just didn't care. He was so perfect, so kinda, so caring, so generous, so sweet. She knew he was a vampire, and it didn't matter to her one bit. She only cares who he is, not what. And he loves her, and that was all that mattered, because she loves him too.

Submitted: February 11, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 11, 2010



Blood Craving


Looking into his crimson eyes, I knew exactly what he was. And I honestly didn't care. This monster had shown more kindness, generosity and courtesy to me than any human I'd ever met. I guess there's a lot to be said for old-fashioned courtesy. And old he was, perhaps three hundred years, but none of that age showed in his young, handsome face. No, he looked to be maybe twenty-five at most, and he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. His hair was pitch black and shoulder length, smooth and straight and silky. His face was full-liped and masculine sensuality, with smooth lines. His body was slim, almost slight, but built enough that he looked full. All of it was covered by soft ivory skin, so smooth to touch and without any blemish. He was perfection personified, and here he was with me.

He smiled at me and raised his glass, clinking it to mine without a toast. My glass was filled with a fruity red wine, and his was filled with a thicker red substance that was without a smell detectable to human senses. He lifted his glass to his lips, his eyes not leaving mine, and drank the entire glass. I sipped a little from my glass, my eyes locked on his. I could drown in those eyes, and I gladly would if the chance arose.

He put his empty glass on the table in front of him and just watched me. He wasn't very talkative, and neither was I, so we just sat there while I finished my wine. He smiled softly at me the whole time, his chin resting on his laced fingers, his eyes never leaving mine. His face looked so young yet so old at the same time, so innocent yet so wise, and it was so beautiful that it took my breath away. I loved his hands, too. They were long and slim and sensual, the hands of an artist. And that's what he was. He was the artist that worked evenings painting portraits down by the river, on the bridge. I'd also seen him paint nighttime scenery. He was an amazing artist with a style so different from anything I'd ever seen. He had the power to use the strokes of his brush to make a tranquil pond into anyone's worst nightmare, or make it so peaceful that one would just sink into the canvas. He could make a beautiful person ugly, or a plain person gorgeous. And he did it all with that soft smile and a thoughtful look in his eyes. He had that look now, the look he got whenever he was looking at something he was going to paint.

"What?"I asked him. His eyes still had not released mine, and that smile had been growing by fractions. I loved it, but Ididn't understand it.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Vivian,"he told me in his soft, light voice. His voice had such rhythm to it, such flow and grace that I would find myself lost in it at times.

"I am?"I asked, a little startled. He smiled a little wider, and I think my eyes glazed over slightly.

"You are. Believe me, I have seen many women throughout my lifetime, but not one has apealed to me as much as you do. If Iwere to paint you, I think I would accentuate the soft, pleasant curve of your full red lips, the way your eyes gleam with whatever emotion you are feeling, how very expressive your hands are, how you hold your head proudly yet without arrogance, and the gentle curve of your cheek, whispering of soft pleasures and sweet dreams," he said, and as he spoke, his hands moved as if to paint the picture in the air.

I blushed from his words and looked down at my empty wine glass, but as soon as I did, he was right there. I hadn't seen him move, but I knew what he was and I knew how very fast he could move, and now he was right there, tipping my face up to make me look at him. Istaredup at himand he gazed back, hunger and lust and something deeper and sweeter in his amazing crimson eyes. Gently, so gently, his lips brushed against mine.

"Antonio,"I breathed at the electric shock I felt from his kiss. He smiled softly again and pulled me to my feet. Once I was there, he kissed me harder, passionately. Iwrapped my arms around his neck and his slid around my waist and we began a smooth, sensual dance while standing still. His lips moved against mine, and mine moved in return, picking up speed until suddenly it was all heat and fire and passion and I was moaning into his mouth and his hands moved restlessly up and down my back. I tightened my arms and got even closer to him, tilting my head so the angle was just right, and he was the one to moan this time. There was such heat between us, our bodies on fire, and it was perfect, breathtakingly wonderful, and I never wanted it to stop.

He pulled his lips away from mine after a few minutes, despite my moan of protest, and instead began kissing his way down my face, across my jaw, and down my neck. His velvet lips burned against my skin, warm from the heat of our kiss, and I hoped dearly that they left imprints in my skin. He paused over my jugular, and I felt his teeth fasten into my flesh, with tiny pinpoints of sharpness against my flesh but no puncture yet. I swallowed, and his teeth fastened a little tighter. My heart was hammering just for him, and my blood seemed to slow in my veins, begging him to release it, begging him to show me what it felt like.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered, barely pulling away from my neck. He hesitated, awaiting my approval or denial.

"I know,"I breathed. My head was tilted to the side so he could better reach my neck, and for tonight Ihad pulled all my hair up into a bun at the back of my head, hoping just for this. I knew he wouldn't hurt me, and one bite wouldn't do anything. No harm would come from this, only pleasure, his and mine.

I felt him smile against my neck. "You will feel only pleasure,"he breathed, so softly that ifelt it more than heard it. Then his teeth slid into my skin again, and those sharp pinpricks drove in. I gasped as the skin was punctured, but as soon as he began to draw my blood out of my neck I felt no pain. Pleasure slid up and down my spine as he took my blood straight from my veins. I relaxed in his strong hold, slowly going limp. My head fell even further to the side, opening me to whatever he might decide to do. It was bliss, pure and simple. I moaned softly in pleasure, and he groaned in response. He was enjoying himself just as much as I was.

Then it ended, as he stopped sucking the blood from my neck and pulled his teeth out of the skin. He licked the wound once and pulled his head away. He sat me down in my chair and tried to catch my eyes. I let him, but it took me a moment to focus. The pleasure had been so great, and Iwas a little lightheaded from blood loss, but it was well worth it. Ismiled at him when he caught my eyes, and he smiled back. He kissed my lips again as I sat there trying to remember how to breathe.

"I love you, Vivian,"he whispered as he pulled back. "You satiate all my cravings, human and not. You satiate my craving for warm flesh against mine, and even my blood craving." I smiled.

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