Over the Moon: Chapter 6
The following day I walked into the studio on a perfectly healed ankle and broke up with John Quinn. He didn’t really seem all that shocked after my odd behavior the night before, and we agreed to remain friends. I did a quick check of his brain and he seemed to regret not getting to have sex with me, but was otherwise fine with the decision.
I asked Sam if I could see the edited interviews that Eric had done and he handed me a stack of dvds that I promised to return the next day. I felt a little guilty about it, but I made myself copies without asking permission. I felt like a teenager with a crush who needed to get her hands on anything related to the boy in question. I recognized that I was clearly out of control, but didn’t much care.
That night I sat in the dark of my living room wearing black cashmere that smelled like Eric and watched the interviews. Now that I knew what he was, it seemed so evident. He was pale and spoke a little formally and just seemed a bit “off.” I also caught the slightest accent that I’d never noticed before. Even in professional mode, I got an occasional glimpse of that smirk that made me weak in the knees. When I watched the interview with the mayor—the last in the series—I thought of our naughty little control-room encounter just afterwards and thought I might lose my mind with want. I turned off the TV and went to bed and tried to relieve my frustration with my own hand, but it only made things worse. I wondered if Eric was watching me from the yard. I gave up and soaked in a bubble bath, trying to relax my mind and body.
As I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed, I noticed that the tiny rose in the bud vase by the sink was wilting. As long as the roses outside were blooming, I kept a few scattered throughout the house in little vases. I usually replaced them on the weekends, but on an odd whim, I decided I wanted a new one for the bathroom that night. I put on my fluffy robe and stepped into my slippers. I found the clippers on the back porch and headed to the side yard where the roses grew by the house. It was warmer than it had been the previous night and the moonlight was bright enough that I could see the roses.
I found the perfect sized bud and clipped it, but just as I held it to my nose to smell it, I pricked my finger on a thorn. It startled me and I dropped my clippers. I bent over to retrieve them and slipped them into my robe pocket as I transferred the rose to my other hand, sucking on the drop of blood on my finger. The taste of my own blood took me back to the previous night and suddenly I had a thought. I searched the yard but saw no sign of him. In spite of that, I opened my robe and let it fall to the ground. The cool night air was not unpleasant as it hit my body which had been recently warmed by the bath. I knew it was crazy, but I tilted my head to one side and pressed the stem of the rose to my neck, piercing the flesh with a thorn. I dropped the rose, closed my eyes and waited for the blood to trickle down my neck. It was such an oddly erotic experience. I felt the tickle of the blood as it traveled down to my breast. I touched it and then put my finger between my legs.
I cried out as I was hit with the sudden sensation of Eric on my body. The impact of him slamming into me took me back a step or two until I was up against the house. I smiled, even laughed a little as I psychotically whispered, “I knew you’d come.” I felt his fangs sink into my neck and gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure. As he took a pull from the wound, he fumbled with his fly and then his hands held my hips as he raised me up and brought me down hard on him. He was huge and filled me with the first stroke. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and held on as he roughly thrust me up against the side of the house. He licked my neck and dragged his tongue to my mouth and enveloped it with hungry lips and a bloody tongue. I sucked on his tongue and moaned with each thrust. I was out of my mind with want but managed to open my eyes and found his staring at me. The moonlight caught the color and they seemed almost translucent. We stayed like that, tongues intertwined, eyes locked as he pumped me harder and harder. I became aware of my back scraping against the wall just as his hand gently came between me and the siding, pressing me to him closer. That added to the building of sensations as I neared my climax. I felt my tongue and mouth relax as my feelings were focused elsewhere. My eyes involuntarily closed as my orgasm overwhelmed me, and just as I was at the peak, he bit into my upper lip and roughly sucked the blood. I screamed from the intensity of the pleasure and he stiffened and groaned as he found his own sweet end. As I was coming down from my high, I vaguely wondered what kind of scar I’d have on my face from a vampire biting into it, but honestly, didn’t really care. Eric licked my upper lip and sweetly covered my face with kisses.
Soon I was wrapped back up into my robe and carried into the house. Eric undressed in silence and climbed into bed with me, pulling me to his body and kissing my forehead. “Did I hurt you?”
“This is crazy, Sookie.”
“I know. I can’t help it.”
“I should stay away. You can’t be glamored.”
“I don’t want to be glamored. I want to remember everything. I’ve never felt these feelings before, Eric. I don’t know what this is, but I don’t want it to stop.”