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So I take a strong grip on his shoulders and I start rocking my hips back and forth, up and down, riding him in slow, deliberate strokes.
“Baby,” he grates out. “You feel so good. I’ve missed your tight little cunt, I’ve missed this, I…fuck, yes, keep fucking me.”
I press further down, spreading over his shaft and start grinding, and he’s gasping now, his hands moving from my waist to my ass, his grip growing stronger, nails digging in deeper.
I need more and it’s too much all at once.
Everything is just too much all at once.
His hips start moving up now, slow at first, then in these quick hard pumps and I’m bouncing around on top of him and he’s making me want to scream.
“That’s it,” he growls harshly, his grip bruising me. “Fucking come all over me, baby.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice.
He thrusts his cock up, sinking deeper than before, holding me so tight against him that there is no space between us, and then I’m falling over the edge, arms out in an endless drop into oblivion.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Oh god!” I scream, coming so hard I think I’ve hurt myself, like my body and mind can’t handle the chaotic sensations that are tearing me apart, like I’ve been fileted, left boneless, obliterated. My body now operates on its own, convulsing as each delicious wave hits, sucked into the undertow.
And my heart, it’s blooming. My heart that’s now rapidly beating against my chest, my heart that burns with love. Love for the vampire inside me. Emotions swirling like an ever-expanding galaxy.
Because I died and now I’m here.
I’m here with Wolf.
And it’s scary and sad and I’m still confused and I don’t know what’s ahead and I know that things haven’t been smooth or easy but I’m here.
“Amethyst,” Wolf grinds out, breathless, and then he’s coming and I’m watching him, watching as the same love I’m feeling is washing over him. Neck corded, teeth in a snarl, eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “Oh god.” A harsh whisper escapes his lips and he gazes at me in awe as his hips still and his blood calms. He reaches out and cups my face in his hands and I close my eyes, feeling him, feeling everything.
Feeling everything.
Chapter 22
Amethyst
“Oh the weather outside is frightful,” the jazz singer says from the stage, his band somehow turning a Christmas song into something danceable and rockabilly. “But the fire is so delightful. Hey!”
Actually, the weather outside has been okay lately. Well, okay for me. December can be pretty nasty in San Francisco but what I used to think sucked—the cold, the never-ending fog—I’m actually embracing now. The moment I became a vampire, I started to appreciate living in the Bay Area more than anything. Sunshine doesn’t bother me as much as it seems to bother Solon or Wolf, but I feel most free in the dark. It calls to me and I answer.
It’s been almost a month since I’ve been turned into a vampire and every day there’s a new twist to the learning curve. My evolution isn’t like it is for a naturally born vampire. I’ve never gone through The Becoming (which is a bunch of stages where you’re first horny as hell, to the point of pain if you don’t get off, then there’s the bloodlust which is self-explanatory), instead it’s been gradual.
I mean, I am hornier than normal, since the blood flow in my body is amped up, and I’m also experiencing my senses at a whole new level. But it’s not enough for me to start sleeping with Wolf again in an attempt to get off.
And I’m also figuring out the whole hunger thing. After I first fed on Wolf, it was enough to get me through a day or two, but after that I needed human blood. I have to admit, I was scared. I hated the idea of someone opening a human volunteer like a spigot and filling glasses of blood for me.
But I was also a mess without the nourishment. So, I took the blood from the cup, feeling very pious as I did so, and after that I was sold. I managed to push all the hesitations I had away and I was able to drink until I was satisfied.
Now, I’m not sure if it’s because I was a normal human before, but I still get hungry for food too. Which is good, because food is fucking awesome. It’s literally the best part of being a human. With my mother gone, it’s up to me now to cook for myself and Lenore (and the others when they want to partake) and I’m so thankful I remember everything my mother taught me.
I’m just so thankful I had her in my life.
So thankful.
The grief is hard. It’s been six weeks, so I’m still in the grips of the acute stage, according to all the self-help grief books I’ve read (I’d go to a therapist, but I think it’s dangerous with me spilling my guts about everything…might say something about vampires and find myself committed). I’m still relating to that pond skimmer—one moment you’re fine and you’re walking across water, the next moment you remember what happened, that your mother isn’t here anymore, that she’s gone, and then you’re falling through and drowning.
