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“I’m… I’m… I’m cumming!” Quinn yells at the top of her lungs.
I quickly sink my fangs into her neck where I already drank from her before. At the same time, my cock explodes inside of her. My seed shooting deep into her pussy.
Quinn’s moan turns into a silent whimper of joy as I start to drink her blood. I taste the ecstasy in her blood. Now she knows, she understands why she had to wait. Her taste is delicious, all the hormones released tonight mix in the blood for a perfect cocktail.
We both stand there for a moment. Naked with my cock and fangs still in her, Quinn too overwhelmed to even make a noise. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for since we met in that bar.
I take my hand on her shoulder and quickly scratch her just below where my fangs have sunk in. She is mine and mine alone. No one else will ever have her and I’ll never be forced to share her warmth.
23
QUINN
Only through my dreams do I feel alive anymore. I close my eyes, even for a minute, and he’s beside me, embracing me and showing me a kind of love I never feel in my waking life. I awake, and he’s gone, as quickly as he entered my mind.
I lead parallel lives - the life where I’m responsible, and I show up to work, pay my rent, and act as a kind friend - and the life where I embrace all the pain he delivers on me, letting it consume me.
These two lives cannot intersect anymore. Through our multiple interactions, he’s made that abundantly clear.
He reinforces his existence through quiet gifts and tangible proof, but I’m left to see him as a kind of cryptid - a stranger in the night. He’s my shadow, tailing me wherever I go, and offering me quiet reassurance as surely as he punishes me.
“Quinn?”
Rory shakes me from my fantasy. I gaze upon her, my food court pizza getting cold.
It’s the third Friday of the month. That means mall and movie time with my best friend. Everybody around me is happily enjoying their day, taking such sweet solace in this escape from reality, but my escape feels like an illusion.
“You okay?” She asks. “You’ve hardly touched your food.”
“Just tired, I guess,” I say, forcing a yawn.
“Well, wake up,” she enthuses. “No way I want you sleeping through the new Captain Patriot. Rumor is, Donkeycop shows up in the post credits.”
“That’s nice,” I say, taking a bite of my pizza. The crust is soft and flavorless, but I forgive it and chock it up to the new management.
At least the pepperoni is good.
“I thought ever since we got rid of your problem, you’d be sleeping a lot better,” she remarks.
“Oh, I have been!” I lie. “Just think it might be time for a new mattress. Spring’s been kind of jutting into me lately.”
While it’s true that I’m in need of a new mattress, Rory doesn’t need to know it’s because Caspian broke the mattress, with how aggressive our last session was. So this is at least a lie that’s easily backed up.
“You should get that fixed,” Rory says. “Money problems?”
“As always,” I say, sighing. I’m relieved that I threw her off my trail.
We eat in silence a little longer. Rory constantly checks her phone, making sure we’re not late for the movie.
For an instant, I think I’ve gotten away from Rory without her making a comment on my lifestyle.
“What’s up with the turtleneck?” Rory asks pointedly. “It’s the middle of summer. Aren’t you hot?”
“Turtlenecks are in this year,” I reply simply.
But I see her examining my collar, and I suddenly feel like running away.
“Oh my God.”
