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“You don’t have any tits.”
She snorted, then slapped her thigh. “Aren’t you a funny dude? Funny bloodsucker. Heh. Maybe you oughta do stand-up or something?”
“I’ll look into it right away.”
“So what’s your deal, anyway? This some sort of religious thing for you? I mean, I know the whole vampire cult thing’s all the rage, but I mean, gross me out on the drinking human blood.”
“It’s extremely nutritious, I assure you. And no, it’s not a religious thing.” He tilted his head, examining her even as she examined her nails. “Has John-O never told you about your clients?”
“What? Other than you guys are all freaks?”
“Yes,” he said dryly. He suppressed a shiver of pleasure at the thought of tasting her, the feel of her blood flowing over his tongue. His cock twitched in anticipation and he couldn’t understand his need to engage in this pointless conversation. But if he didn’t, the serpent would be harder to restrain, harder to control, and he was barely hanging on as it was. “Other than that.”
“Nah. He just says it’s more interesting than selling plasma. Pays better, too.” She glanced once more at the wall, at the manacles that dangled there.
He smiled. “Perhaps you would like the honors? I could be persuaded to remain unbound.”
For a moment, she looked intrigued. Then she shook her head. “Better not. Wouldn’t want you to lose your natural rhythm, what-o?”
“What-o, indeed.”
With her rather eager assistance, he was soon stripped naked and manacled to the walls. Steel cuffs, and strong. But not too strong. He wanted to be bound—to keep the faunt who came so trusting to his door safe.
And yet there was a part of him…
Well, that part insisted on steel and not hematite. Less sport, perhaps. But the potential for so much more satisfaction.
“So, like, you got no free arms. How you going to hold the tube?”
“The tube?” He was spread-eagled on the wall, arms and ankles bound tight. Certainly no threat to anyone at the moment. And still the girl licked her lips, took a tiny, apprehensive step backward.
“Yeah.” She held up the plastic tubing, the bag, and the needle. “Whatcha gonna do? Just clench it between your teeth?”
“I’m sure the experience would be delightful, but that is not where I find my pleasure.” No, he found it in the flesh. The skin beneath his mouth. And that sweet moment of hesitation before the flesh was punctured and the blood ran free.
It was forbidden, of course. What he wanted. To puncture a human…it was a crime, and yet he wanted it still.
“So what you thinking about?” she asked, looking at his crotch, where his cock had sprung to attention, quite in anticipation of the main event. “What’s getting you all hot and bothered?”
“You are, of course,” he said.
“Yeah?” She strutted toward him, then pressed her finger to his lip and drew it down, down, down, then flicked the end of it hard on his cock. He winced, with both surprise and pleasure—and knew then that he would have this one.
She laughed, satisfied, and danced back away from him, her expression teasing.
He could tease as well. “Let us play a little game.”
“Yeah?”
“Drop the bag. Drop the tube. Drop the needle.”
She did.
“Now come to me.”
She took one step, then hesitated, her eyes narrowed. “John-O said I shouldn’t—”
“Am I not strapped to a wall? What harm can come from indulging a bound man?”
