I stare at myself in the mirror, but all I can see is the little female from the street today.
Would she find my tattoos appealing?
What would it feel like to graze my knuckles along her freckled cheek or to run my fingers gently over her throat?
Fuck, I want to feel her pulse quicken when I wrap my hands around her neck. I don’t give a shit if it’s fear or arousal. I only want to feel her heart beating because of me.For me.
A slow, gnawing hunger curls around my ribs, darker than simple lust.
For the third time in as many weeks, my cock twitches. Three hundred years of celibacy. Then some freckled little goddess crosses my path, and suddenly my self-control has left the fucking building.
I’ve seen beautiful women before. Hell, I’ve fucked beautiful women from the Byzantine Empire right up through the Civil War, but something about her calls to me so deeply it’s a physical ache.
Christ, the filthy, sadistic things I could do to her—things that sweet soul probably wouldn’t enjoy.
A guttural sound tears from my throat as I grip my cock and stroke, knuckles white, my breath dragging through clenched teeth.
I can’t remember the last time I was hard enough to touch myself, so I’m determined to enjoy it.
With my eyes tightly closed, I can almost feel my fingers tangle in her gorgeous hair, pulling it back to expose her neck, while my other hand caresses and teases her clit. My mouth waters as I think about licking, sucking, and biting that beautiful, unmarked skin. I want to fucking mark her as mine.
And when she comes with my tongue buried deep inside her sweet cunt? I want to hear her scream for more while I’m still inside her. Still licking. Still feeding.
If I broke the skin on her neck, would she find it repulsive if I hungrily lapped up the blood?
Would I be able to stop?
It doesn’t matter.
I’d drink every last goddamn drop from her throat, my mouth trailing blood across her freckled skin as my fingers fuck her open, until she shatters in my hands.
She better like it rough because the monster in me doesn’t do gentle.
Leaning a hand on the bathroom counter to steady myself, I stroke harder and faster.
The little human looks so innocent. So sweet. So damn breakable. I bet her tight cunt would grip me with such desperate need, I’d feel it shudder through my spine.
And those beautiful fucking lips.
Would she take my cock down her throat and swallow every drop like the good fucking girl I need her to be?
Shit.
That last image is enough to make me see stars behind my eyelids, and I come hard for the first time in centuries with a rough, unsatisfied growl.
Jesus Christ, I came so hard I briefly shifted into my Umbraeth.
I glance up at my reflection, panting.
What the hell was that?
For a moment, I just stare, my skin still flickering with the shadows of my shifting form. And then, of all things, a chuckle rumbles from my chest.
I don’t fucking chuckle.
The sound is foreign and wrong. Even my reflection looks off.
There’s something in my eyes I don’t recognize. And that unease lingers.
