Page 103 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

“He did what?” Henrietta shakes her head, then downs her whole glass of champagne, promptly filling it up again.

“He told me how much he wanted me, and I accidentally cut him.”

“You cut him with the knife?”

“It just happened. When I realised what I’d done. I dropped the knife and I…” I pause, taking another fortifying sip of champagne.

“Yes?”

“I kissed his cut better. I tasted his blood, Henrietta, and it was… Fuck, it tasted so good, like the most delicious glass of Merlot.”

“Jesus Christ, you’ve got a blood kink. Who would’ve thought it?” Henrietta muses.

“It’s not me who has a blood kink,” I mutter, swiping a hand over my face. I’m pretty sure Henrietta didn’t hear me, so I continue. “Anyway, we made out, then I stripped naked and tied his hands to my bed.”

“You tied him up? Edie, you dark horse.”

I nod. “I tied him up, then sat on his face, and he ate me out until I came. I came so hard, Henrietta. It was… It was the single hottest thing I’ve ever done in my life. At least it was until he chased me naked into the garden,” I blurt out.

Henrietta blinks at me, her mouth opening and closing before she slowly rests her glass of champagne on the table. One minute she’s sitting still as a statue, the next she’s on her feet, jumping up and down and squealing with delight.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever heard. Then what happened?”

“Then he fucked me. He picked me up in his arms and fucked me at the bottom of the garden, and I have never felt more alive in my life.”

“Could it be magic nowwwww,” Henrietta warbles, dancing around her living room, singing her favourite Take That song. I watch her, trying and failing to find the words to tell what happened next because, honestly, I still can’t wrap my head around it all.

Eventually, she sings herself out and drops back down on the sofa next to me, her face flush, her chest heaving with excitement and exertion. When I groan, she snaps her head around and stares at me.

“It’s okay. It’s all okay,” she soothes, gripping my hand in hers. “You’re overwhelmed, and I can see why. You’ve gone from vanilla sex without an orgasm for years, and all of a sudden you’re role-playing and having several orgasms all at once. Your body, brain and nervous system can’t quite cope with it.”

“That isn’t why I’m so worked up,” I whisper, peeking over at her.

“Is this to do with him being in your wardrobe?” she asks, tipping her head to her side. “Why is he in your wardrobe? Did something go wrong?”

“You could say that,” I mutter, finishing off my champagne and placing it onto the coffee table with a shaky hand.

“When we were in the garden fucking, he erm… He…”

“He what?” she asks, her voice soft, cajoling. It’s the same voice she uses when speaking to a distressed student whilst trying to get them to tell her which playground bully hurt them.

“He bit me on the neck. He bit me and drank my blood.” My voice rises with every word until I’m trembling all over again.

Henrietta stiffens, her eyes blinking as she tries to absorb what I’ve just said.

“He bit you? He drank your blood?” she parrots back, eying the spot on my neck where my fingers are grazing.

I nod. “The whites of his eyes turned crimson and then I saw his canines lengthen and stretch… Then he said I can’t fight it, and he bit me. I must’ve passed out, because when I woke up, I was lying on my bed and he was nowhere to be seen.”

“What in the actual fuck?” Henrietta exclaims, then frowns. Her gaze drifts to my neck. “I don’t see any⁠—”

“I know there aren’t any puncture wounds. But it happened, Henrietta. I swear to you.” She gives me a look that tells me she doesn’t quite believe me. Before she can protest, I continue. “That’s not all. When I woke up this morning, I remembered him standing beside my bed naked afterwards. The sun was rising behind him, and I smelt something burning.”

“Edie,” her voice softens as she moves closer. “I think perhaps, maybe you’re⁠—”

“I’m not making this up.”

“I didn’t say you were, but perhaps⁠—”