His taste lingers on my tongue, rich and potent in a way I've never experienced. I've fed from humans for years, but none of them tasted like Oliver. None of them made power surge through my veins like lightning, made me feel strong and alive yet hungry for more.
And none of them made me want to stay longer.
I dry my face roughly, trying to scrub away the memory of his skin against mine, the sound of his heartbeat under my ear. It doesn't work. Nothing works.
"Madam?" A soft knock at my door. Corvask, probably wondering where I've been.
"What is it?" I call out, not bothering to open the door.
"I wanted to ensure everything went well with the feeding."
Everything went well. Everything went terribly. Both are true.
"It was fine," I lie. "The human cooperated."
"I'm glad to hear it." A pause. "Will you require anything else tonight?"
Yes. I require my sanity back. I require this human to stop affecting me like this.
"No. That's all. Good night, Corvask."
"Good night, Madam." His footsteps fade down the corridor, leaving me alone.
I move to my bed, but I know sleep won't come easily tonight. My body is still thrumming with energy from feeding, from touching Oliver, from the intimacy we shared that we both know we shouldn't have.
Why are you still here?
His question echoes in my head. I didn't have a good answer then, and I don't have one now. I should have left immediately after feeding. Should have maintained a professional distance. That's what any sensible owner would do.
But I'm not feeling particularly sensible where Oliver is concerned.
I remember the way he looked when he came apart under my hands, the desperation and surrender warring on his face. The way he called my name like a prayer and a curse. The way he held me afterward, even though he hates me, even though every instinct probably told him to push me away.
He didn't push me away.
And I didn't leave.
We're both idiots.
I lie back on my bed, staring at the ceiling of my chambers. Tomorrow evening I'll have to do this again. Touch him, stroke him, milk him. Feed from him. And I'll have to maintain control, keep my distance, remember what he is.
Livestock.
Property.
…mine.
But even as I try to convince myself, I know it's pointless. Something shifted between us, something neither of us wanted but neither of us could stop. And tomorrow it will shift more, and the day after even more, until we're both too far gone to find our way back.
I'm old enough to know better. I should be able to control myself, my desires. But lying here in my empty bed, I already miss the warmth of him beside me. Already want to go back to his room, crawl under those sheets, and pretend just for a little while longer.
I close my eyes and try to sleep, knowing when tomorrow evening comes, I'll do it all again. Touch him. Taste him. Maybe even stay after.
Oliver
Morning comeswith yet a different servant bringing breakfast and the usual silent routine. I eat because I need the strength, because refusing the food will only hurt me. The bread is fresh, the fruit sweet, and the cheese rich. But all of it tastes like ash in my mouth.
You're going to come so hard you'll forget your own name.
