23. Juliette
Juliette
A LITTLE BIT IN LOVE
I’m not sure when it happened. Falling in love with Scotty.
But it felt like that moment between being awake and asleep.
How you lie down in bed, close your eyes …
and then, suddenly, it’s the next morning.
No recollection of ever going under, there’s just that strange, confusing gap.
One moment I’m living in solitude, the next moment I’m a woman beloved by a man.
Scotty and I lie on the cloth, our arms and legs tangled together, his chest against my back.
He nuzzles my neck with his nose, and I allow myself to surrender to his touch.
And when he presses his length against my entrance, aching with need, I lift my leg for him.
He pushes against my sex, testing the waters, and kisses the shell of my ear.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
My entire body tightens as I prepare myself for his girth.
It’s not that I have much to compare him with, but he’s also much larger than the stable boy was.
My core takes its sweet time adjusting to his size, and my eyes threaten to water with red, hot tears from the pressure.
Seconds later, the discomfort subsides, leaving behind only tingling pleasure.
“Yes,” I answer, and Scotty pushes himself inside of me with a groan.
I remember my first time vividly; the stable boy’s hurried and rough hands exploring every inch of my body, inside and out.
His belabored breathing and the way his sweat mixed with mine.
And then there was the burning pain, of course, when he finally entered me.
It’s been centuries since my last time, and I expected to feel that same sharp pain again, but … there’s nothing.
Instead, he moves in and out of me with ease.
“Oh, gods. You’re tight,” Scotty whispers in my ear, then kisses it again and again.
He holds on to my inner thigh, lifting my leg higher.
Another moan rips through his throat, and he tosses his head back.
His dark lashes flutter as his eyes roll back.
I let out a sharp gasp. My heart squeezes with affection at the sight, and I roll my hips against his length, like my body’s begging him to go deeper. Harder.
“I need you, Scott,” I mutter under my breath, barely aware of what’s leaving my mouth.
His eyes snap to mine and widen. His voice gentles into a soothing tone. “Then you’ll have me, baby.”
He drives deeper into me, never allowing his gaze to leave mine, and I let out a moan as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into me like I’m a long-forgotten shore. Our cries of ecstasy meld together and echo throughout the walls while the soft crackling of a record plays in the background.
This is exactly how it should have been back then, too. Not with hasty, rough hands but with careful, intentional ministrations. Scotty kisses my neck, and I let out a soft sigh. He answers by moans with his fangs, dragging them across my tender skin.
“Please,” I murmur as I move my hips in the gentle rhythm he’s set. “Scotty, I need you to…”
He nibbles on my earlobe, and while it feels nice, it isn’t what I want. What I crave.
“What do you need, love? Tell me,” he whispers.
“I need you to bite me,” I say.
Scotty pauses, hovering over my neck. He’s considering my request, but I’m sure he’s going to say no.
No, he won’t do that. He made it clear when telling me about his past that he never liked drinking from other vampires.
But then he presses his fangs into my flesh.
My eyes widen from the shock as he breaks through my skin like a ripe, juicy plum.
Hot rivulets of my blood rush forward, down the crevice of my throat and the curvature of my breasts.
It gushes forward, painting my chest in red until a shallow pool forms beneath us.
He drinks deeply from me, taking his fill as he pumps into my entrance.
Oh, gods. It’s almost too much for me to handle, and I almost beg him to stop.
Our gentle rhythm picks up, becoming a staccato of wet slaps.
“Oh, fuck.” Scotty looses a feral growl as he laps at the blood seeping from my wound. “You taste like strawberries and wine. How is that even possible?”
I chuckle, too high on this euphoria to know or care how anything is possible. In the end, it doesn’t even matter. I dig my claws into his thigh and moan, hoping to encourage him to quicken his pace. He does.
“Juli,” he grinds out through gritted teeth. “I’m going to—”
My orgasm rips through me like a hurricane, and my entire body tenses against his. His own climax comes right behind me, and his cum fills me in hot spurts. I let out a cry as my body quakes against his, and he clutches me tight to his chest, holding me in place.
“I’ve got you,” he says, and laps up more of my spilled blood. “I’ve got you, Jules.”
When my climax finally subsides, I roll over onto my other side and burrow my face against his chest. “I know,” I murmur. “I know you do.”