He sauntered into the poorly lit room, a lone candle flickered on a table. He didn’t need the light, he could see clearly in the dark perhaps even better than he could see during the day. The light was for the benefit of the maiden in the room clad in a red satin dress, with her head resting on the table. He paused at the door, the deep hue of eerie red emanating from the room reflected in his dark eyes. He looked handsome, very handsome – a perfect jawline, not-too-high cheekbones, a thick tuft of eyebrows, seductive lips, a subtle hint of laughter lines. It seemed the god of stone took his time to chisel his face out of hard marble; or rather, he took the chisel and carved his features himself because he had not always looked this perfect.
Not before that night he got bitten.
The lady-in-red lifted her head to acknowledge his presence. She sat at the table with mixed feelings, hoping to find the courage to strengthen her resolve. She met his gaze and felt herself getting lulled into the fiery depth of his eyes. She could see the lust lurking in his eyes, as she knew he could also see hers in his. There and then, she knew she could never have enough of him, no matter how many times she came back after running away, no matter the number of marks she received on her body – she could never have enough of him. She traced the marks that lined her arms with her eyes, they continued all the way to her back and thighs. The pain was even an addiction to her now and the prospect of what was about to come made her blood rush. She remotely feared him, but that only deepened her desires. She wanted to run the woods with him, keep up with him, hunt with him, live with him. She felt alive. There and then, she found her resolve.
He seemed to have read the resolve in her eyes. He staggered towards her. She was his muse. He didn’t know why she kept coming back but it was nothing compared to his surprise at what she implored him to do to her, just a fortnight past. She wanted to stay with him, permanently, forever – and ever. He gave her time to rethink her decision, to make peace with her lot. A fortnight past, and she was back – back like every other time.
He smelled her. Her sweet scent tugged at his insides, making him weak, crumpling his stone-hard knees like a rock slowly being weathered. He was mad with passion. He could hear her life force throbbing through her veins – she made him feel alive. He felt it ironic that he was about to change that, change her.
He hugged her and felt her shudder a little at his cold touch. He cupped her face and kissed her deeply. She kissed him back, suckling on his lower lip. Tensions rose. He slowly parted her auburn hair, baring her neck. He trailed soft kisses behind her left ear all the way to the base of her shoulder. In a swift movement he sunk his fangs in deep and tasted her. He heard her whimper and he prayed to her gods that he could find the restraint to stop… before it was too late.
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