A Short Chapter In The Life Of Armand

by Tigre

Ahhh, Paris at night…romance filled the air, even though fall had brought a chill with it in the past few days. But it was my first time in the city of passion, and I bundled up and went among the Parisians to find my own piece of romance despite the cold.

I thought about my friends and family back home, and how they had tried to talk me out of coming here by myself as I strolled down the cobblestone side street that ran along the side of my hotel. They had worried about me. I had told them not to. They had fretted that I would be lonely in this city with Carl and I, my previous boyfriend, having only been broken up for a few months. I had laughed at that, and then I had bought my tickets without telling anyone, thinking them old-fashioned for believing I needed a man with me to enjoy myself. I knew I would love it here, and so far I had not regretted one moment of it.

I turned the corner and was immediately bathed in the warm glow of the lights from a small café. I sat down just inside the doorway and ordered a coffee with milk and sugar from the pretty cat-eyed waitress. I was staring out into the street when I spotted a couple walking down the other side, their arms locked tight around each other's waists, the woman looking up adoringly into the face of the smiling man. My heart squeezed for a moment. The coffee came just in time, steaming hot, to divert my attention. Okay, so I missed the intimacy of a relationship. That was ALL I missed about him, I thought to myself as I took a long sip of my beverage, welcoming the fiery path it made as it sloshed down my throat to my stomach. The couple's quiet laughter made its way through the open door of the café, and I frowned in melancholy thought.

After a while I was tired of thinking about all the should-haves and would-haves of my past forlorn love life. I laid money on the table and walked out into the foggy night air. As I turned onto a busier main street and joined the crowd of early partygoers I felt immediately better. I smiled at the appreciative glances of the men I passed. I took a deep breath and tried to train my thoughts to the moment, forgetting the past. Glancing into the shop windows and looking into passing faces, it did not take me long to get my spirits back up.

The explorer in me guided my feet as I traveled farther than I had on my previous outings. The warm glowing windows of pubs and houses seemed to beckon to me. Before long I found myself marveling at a street named "Le Gume Av." I chuckled to myself, thinking it a parody on beans, and turned down the narrow road.

She is coming…

It was a little darker than the main road, but there was a sign hanging from a post just a short distance down painted bright blue and gold, and I could hear laughter and the faint thumping of bass coming from within. Just my luck, I could see that it was a disco bar. I could do with a drink, I thought to myself, and went in.

Coming straight to me…

There was a diversity of people inside, most of them inebriated and laughing. The bar area was welcomingly lit, so I found an empty stool and ordered a glass of wine while glancing around me at the myriad of faces. There was a dance floor that took up most of the space in the room and several people were out on it, grinding and swaying to the music. I smiled at some of their antics and took a long drink of my wine. I loved to dance. I hoped they would play something I would recognize.

Not too much time passed before they did play an American song- so I gathered up my courage and weaved my way into the small throng of gyrating people. There were a few women that appeared to be dancing together and yet alone, so I set in next to them and picked up the rhythm of the familiar song. The wine had gone straight to my head as I hadn't had anything to eat for dinner. The music intoxicated me further and I closed my eyes giving way to my instincts, feeling the beat flow through me.

Ah, there she is…and she dances well…

I couldn't be sure for how long I was dancing with my eyes closed, but I suddenly had an urge to open them. A feeling had come over me that told me I was being stared at. I turned around in time with the music, searching out whatever it was my tipsy mind was picking up on. The first time around I saw nothing, but the second time around a man seated back in a corner caught my eye. There was a small grouping of tables and chairs, and other people were seated around him, but some energy- some kind of visible presence- emanated from him that made all the others seem to disappear.

I would like to say he caught my eye because he was the one staring at me, but the truth of the matter was, he caught my eye because he was so striking to look at. He looked young in a way, almost too young to be in such a place, but the set of his features and body language spoke of a deeper maturity. He was leaning back in his chair comfortably, as if he had sat in it many times before. His hands were clasped in a relaxed manner across his chest. Long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles ending in what appeared to be rather stately suede leather boots. He wore an overcoat- black and hanging down to the floor on either side of his chair- and a simple grey shirt underneath.

You like looking at me, don't you little one?

I glanced away, realizing that I was staring and that he could catch me doing so at any moment. But after only a few seconds I found myself being drawn back to look at his face. Large dark eyes peered at the scene before him from under equally dark and beautifully curved eyebrows. His skin was pale and smooth, which drew my attention even more so to his mouth- a mouth that Michelangelo himself would have had to take pause over to study. The line where the full red bottom lip met the upper made the perfect shape of a cupid's bow. His nose and high cheekbones spoke of noble genetics, but there was something softer there also, something welcoming. His hair was black and straight, and long enough to be pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

Yes, tonight I will take you then. You feel warm to me. So ready…your smell has changed to something sweeter…

I watched his fluid grace as he turned to pick up the drink sitting on the table next to him. It was only then that I realized I had almost stopped moving entirely. I decided that my obvious fascination with this stranger must be due to drinking my wine too quickly and so I went to sit down near the door where the air was the freshest.

I felt better, not knowing that I had felt dizzy before, and sat back taking a couple of deep breaths. My face was flushed and my knees were a little weak. It occurred to me that I might want to go out for a bite to eat if I was feeling this strangely, but I wanted to sit for a minute to rest first. Watching the people walking by me, receiving gusts of air from the door opening and closing, I started to feel fine in a matter of moments.

Just as I was about to stand and leave, I saw the face of the man I had been watching from the dance floor come into view through the crowd, making his way towards the door. I quickly decided to wait for him to pass- mostly to get a better glimpse of him up close. The paleness of his face floated in and out of visibility as the crowd between us parted and then closed back again. I watched for him intently, not wanting to miss him. He was only about fifteen feet away when I caught sight of him again, and realized that he was staring at me as well. Now that those dark eyes were looking directly at me, their impact was amazing. They were almond shaped and predatory and beautiful. I could not look away.

Everything around me seemed to fall into slow motion then. His coat swirled dramatically around his calves in response to his movements. His hands were open and swinging at his sides with purpose- as pale as his face with gracefully curving fingers. My eyes traveled back up to his face then, and his stare held me. A smile dawned over his features.

You are opening to me as though you were a flower in the sun…such innocence…killing you would break Louis' heart.

I was enchanted. He walked straight up to me as if he had known me all my life and, upon reaching me, held his hand out in open invitation. I watched my own hand slip into his as though it belonged to someone else- as though someone standing to the side of me held a remote control for it and commanded its movements. He smiled broadly and gave me a slight tug, pulling me up to stand next to him.

"Let's go get something to eat, shall we?" his voice purred to me, low so that I was almost certain it was no more than a whisper, yet his words were clear as a bell in my head despite the din of the music and chatter. I turned my face up to him and again felt my mind begin spiraling. A very distant alarm sounded in the far reaches of my psyche. I was not prone to leaving bars with strange men, and the effect this one had on me was disturbing to me on some level. But staring into the amber depths of those eyes, I felt myself only nod in compliance to him, and the warmth he created down the side of my body where we were touching made me smile. He snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me even tighter against him. His firm arm at my back completed my intoxication. The alarm was drowned out with the roaring of blood in my ears. He guided me through the door and out into the night.

The fresh, cool air hit my burning cheeks. I gulped in a lungful of it, trying to get a better grasp on my befuddled mind. The hand at my waist was relaxed but firm, and we were walking along at a good pace, our steps evenly matched. I looked up into the man's face and was rewarded with another angelic smile as he looked at me. Every time we made eye contact, it felt like I had tossed back another glass of wine. He was definitely the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on. The tiny thought of distrust that was trying to form in my head was washed over in a wave of what I believed could only be described as love at first sight. I smiled at myself then, thinking of my sadness earlier at being alone. I had not realized I would be finding such a man only a matter of minutes later. It was almost funny. We were embracing and walking just like the couple had been outside the café- the couple that had given me pause to recollect my own loneliness.

"What's your name?" I asked, wanting to give him more substance in my dazed mind. I couldn't remember wine ever making me feel this way after only one glass. At my question, he glanced down again, this time with puzzlement apparent on his face.

"My name?" then I could see him doing some thinking, as if no one had ever asked him this question before. That struck me as odd.

She is clear-headed enough to think to ask me this?

"Yes, your name. You do have one, don't you?" I added, giving a little giggle. Through the fog in my head, I tried to remember if that was an appropriate question or not when you've just met someone. I was pretty sure that it was. He gave a little laugh of his own then, and answered me.

"Yes, of course I do. It is Armand…" and the way his velvet voice rolled the 'r' in the middle of his name made the rest of his accent clear to me. It wasn't French at all.

"Armand…" I tried to roll the 'r' as he had done, and ended up laughing at myself. In my fit of laughter I almost lost my balance. His grip tightened on me, holding me steady.

"My name strikes you as funny?" he asked, laughing a little with me.

"Oh, no…it's a beautiful name…fitting for such a beautiful man…" I was sobering then, staring up at him once again. He met my eyes and I thought I saw universes flickering in their depths. This feeling that I could only describe as love swelled inside me again, and I made a noise in the back of my throat in response, settling my head against his shoulder.

"You've had quite a lot to drink, haven't you?" he asked me, taking my chin in his hand and examining me more closely by the street corner light. I smiled hugely at the warmth of his touch, of his face being so close. But I could not stop the thought cavorting around in my befuddled brain…only one glass. Only one glass of wine. Impossible to get drunk from that…

You are a fighter, aren't you? I could take you right now and leave you here beneath this light…but perhaps it will be of more interest to me to take my time with you…

"Where are we going to eat? That wine really did me in on this empty stomach," I said. Then, noting how very close his face was to mine now, I breathed in deeply.

"Are you going to kiss me?" I asked Armand the Angel, full of hope that he would. He brought his mouth closer to mine.

"Do you want me to?" he whispered. My knees grew weaker, so that he had to hold me up almost entirely.

"Oh, yes…" I said unabashedly in my stupor. I saw then that he was lowering his lips the last scant inches to my own and fluttered my eyes closed. I parted my lips and waited for the touch I was longing for with every inch of my being. I felt his lips brush across mine, gently, as if I had been kissed by the wind. I felt him pull back and tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt as though they were made of lead and would not heed my command to rise.

There is no fear in her. Ah, mi dios, I can taste the blood coursing just under the skin of her lips… I could eat her alive…but she possesses such courage. And what a sweet torment she has been for me these past few days with her flashing blue eyes and easy smile, her beautifully proportioned body and her vibrant spirit… perhaps just a taste of her through the hunger of lust alone…

I felt him press his lips to my mouth once again, only this time I let my tongue venture out to drag along the bowed line of his bottom lip. He opened them to me, letting me explore the fascinating softness of his mouth. His breathing grew heavier as I slid my tongue down the length of his, creating a sweet tension deep within my belly. I ran my tongue along his bottom teeth, feeling how straight and strong they were, then traced along the edge of the top ones. I barely felt anything at all as his fang sliced across the tip of my tongue, but the effect it had on him was profound.

He pulled away suddenly, as though he had been shocked. The back of his hand went to his mouth as he moaned and swallowed. With his arms no longer supporting me and his strong body now taken from mine, I drifted slowly down to the ground at his feet like a leaf, still reeling from the bliss of our kiss, wondering only absently at the taste of blood in my mouth. I lay there, comfortable in spite of the fact that I was lying in the street. I was staring up at him through slitted lids, and was surprised that the only thing I could think of was when I was going to get to kiss him again…

After a few long moments, I felt him scooping me up in his arms. I found enough strength to put my arms around his neck to hold on. My nose brushed against the tight skin of his neck and I inhaled his scent. The wind was whipping around us in an unusual fashion, considering there had been barely a breeze earlier. I nuzzled closer to him, thankful for his tight embrace. Before I could think about what I was saying, I whispered into his neck, "I love you, Armand." I felt him turn his head to look at me, but still could not open my eyes to read his expression.

Silly girl…if she knew my passion was equal, but only for the blood she has just given me a taste of, I'm certain she would feel differently. How long has it been since I had heard those words?

I could not tell how long I had been resting on what felt like a bed. I knew only that my head was throbbing and that my tongue hurt. I attempted to pick my head up from the pillow, but a stab of discomfort shot from the back of my skull over the top of my head to settle in my eye sockets, so I moaned and gently rested my aching cranium back into softness.

"You are waking now. Good…" came the soft voice of Armand. I opened my eyes slowly, fearful of any light he would have on, but found that only soft candle glow enveloped his form at the foot of the bed. I tried to say something to him but my tongue hurt too much and I only made a croaking noise instead.

"Does that bother you?" he asked, realizing that I was grimacing from the pain. I reached up to touch the source of it. My arm was finally moving of its own accord, but felt like weights had been tied to it. My fingers sought to trace the cut gingerly. I nodded in answer to him.

"Let me see then…" he said with compassion as he walked around to the side of the bed and sat down, cupping my chin in his hand. I let him examine me, then watched with horror rising in my barely conscious mind all too late as he tore into the end of his finger with the very fang I had cut myself on. His face was a mask of concentration as I felt him hold his finger over my wounded tongue. Warm drops of his blood fell on it tasting salty and metallic. Then my own cut began to burn. I moved my head, groaning with the fire that seemed to be shooting through my mouth and down my throat. There was the briefest moment of agony, but only to be followed in a few seconds by no heat or pain whatsoever- from his blood or from the cut. I carefully ran my tongue against the roof of my mouth and was completely surprised to find that it no longer hurt. I reached up to explore this impossibility with my finger, and found the same to be true. The jagged tear that had just existed across the tip of my tongue was gone.

I looked at him in amazement. He smiled.

"Quite a parlor trick, isn't it?" he asked me, smoothing my hair back from my forehead. I tried to think of all that had transpired recently, but my head was still throbbing relentlessly. I decided to just try to deal with the here and now.

Such a mixture of beauty and youth and strength in her…I would not be surprised if the very heavens themselves cry out when she dies in my arms.

"How did you…?" I began to ask him, stopping when I felt a flame spark up deep in my stomach as he blood reached it. I winced and held my breath. In a few short moments it went away. I sighed deeply.

"It is very easily accomplished when you have vampiric blood. It is quite ironic actually, that we can heal your wounds with our blood, but must kill you in order heal our own. It is a puzzle I have often sat and tried to find a solution to," he said, sitting calmly, his body warm where it touched my leg. I could only stare at him. The words that seemed to be sticking in my mind were 'vampiric' and 'kill you'. Everything else he said sounded like mumbling. His gaze was distant, but mine was riveted to his face. My heart began to pound. It was the first time I had even considered that I might be in danger. What had I been thinking? Why had I been so foolish? I usually wasn't so careless with my personal safety.

"You weren't being careless," he said with some tenderness in his tone. "You were under my spell, as you youngsters like to say. Or perhaps you would even say that you… were in love with me?" My eyes widened as the understanding dawned on me that he could read my thoughts. He smiled and then stood up from the bed.

"Yes, that was the way you had put it. I remember it distinctly. 'I love you, Armand'. Well, it is what you said, after all," he said as he watched the horror grow in my eyes.

"Armand…" I repeated stupidly, remembering repeating it earlier after him, and then laughing hysterically at my lousy attempt at mimicking his accent. I blushed.

"Somehow it does not sound as sweet now. I wonder why that is?" he said and the mocking note in his voice brought me back to my immediate danger.

Why am I doing this to her? To myself? I must be going mad with loneliness…

"I remember…" I began to explain, but could not bring myself to say what I had been feeling. It was love, truly, but I could not understand how my falling in love could have happened so quickly and so completely.

"That is all right…you don't have to explain yourself. You were simply…entranced. That is all. I suppose I wanted to prove it to you, though-that there was nothing here resembling any real feelings," he said, and the look of sadness on his face touched something inside me, piercing through the horror only just beginning to dawn in my mind-that I lay in the presence of a monster.

I still mourn Louis' departure. Why else would I care what she was thinking just before dying? It does not matter to me what this mortal woman believes…and yet it has given me pause. Just one little flippant phrase uttered from her sweet pink lips and I became softened. I am in a dangerous state, then.

"But…I felt it though…beyond my drunkenness…" I almost whispered this to myself, not really caring if he heard me or not. The events of our encounter in the discotheque were coming in and out of focus, but the prevailing feeling I had had since spotting him in the corner could not be ignored.

"It is merely a trick of vampires. You are only trying to convince your mortal mind of its reality. Let me demonstrate," and with this he leaned over me and the powerful wave of his mental ability washed through me, thoroughly clearing out any negative thoughts I had in response to his being a vampire. As a matter of fact, as he smiled at me sweetly, I laughed at the absurd notion of ever doubting that I loved this man, no matter what he truly was.

"Oh, Armand…I'm sorry…I'm not feeling very well, I think. I don't mean to upset you…" and I reached up and intertwined my fingers behind his neck over his thick ponytail. His eyes were boring into me. His smile faltered. I pulled him down to me feeling only a little resistance, and pressed my lips against his once again. I felt as if I needed to taste his sweet kiss in order to feel alive again.

He separated our mouths only a couple of inches then, and said to me in a low whisper, " And now, reality…" and I felt as though someone were pulling a warm blanket back in my mind and letting cold air in. I shivered and squeezed my eyes shut. It was true-I could tell there was a distinct difference. But somehow, the feelings stirring within my heart did not fade with the retraction of his trance. I opened my eyes again. He was still hovering only inches away, but he was beginning to pull his lips back over his teeth in what would soon become a wicked sneer. His eyes took on a threatening sparkle.

I prefer her to be afraid…it will make it easier.

I did not give him the chance to become the monster again. Looking him in the eyes, feeling myself swallowed in their liquid-brown intensity, I pulled myself up to him for another kiss.

I felt his surprise-his lips were reluctant, frozen in disbelief-but I kept my mouth soft and inviting, letting my tongue once again flick over his bottom lip. I even let my tongue part his lips to very gently glide over his teeth, being extra careful of his fangs this time. In only moments, I felt his own mouth begin to respond, his lips soften, his tongue slide out to gently court mine in reply. The kiss became a conflagration. He turned his head in order to receive my mouth more fully. Our tongues were twining like mating snakes; heat was burning down the length of my body, focusing in my lower belly and chest. He pressed himself against me, pushing me into the mattress. His breath was ragged and hot against my cheek. I stroked his hair, then wanted to feel it between my fingers so I tugged at the holder containing his ponytail and watched the glorious black tresses fall around us, veiling us from the candle light. His mouth was traversing my jawbone, then his lips fell ravenous against my neck. I gave a small squeak as his teeth nicked at the delicate flesh just below my ear. The thought of what he was came back to me only then.

He paused, feeling me stop, perhaps hearing my thoughts. He brought his large eyes level with mine, so that we were staring at each other nose to nose.

"I won't hurt you…not now…" he whispered, his eyes blazing with desire. I did not find much comfort in the 'not now' part of this. My body was trembling with passion, crying out for consummation of what we had begun, but fear was there also, tingling in the back of my skull.

"Dammit," he whispered, looking away from me. Then I felt the warm fuzz of his mind trick begin to seep through me once again.

"No! No, you don't need to do that again…please… I just…I want to be here," I said, realizing now that the trance robbed me of who I was, of my own reactions. If we were to be together, I wanted all my senses alert. If he were going to kill me, then it wouldn't make any difference one way or the other. And so I chose.

He was staring at me in disbelief.

"You want to be here? Conscious…even though you are afraid that I will kill you anyhow?" he asked, leaning over to one side, pushing loose hair behind his ear to get a better look at me. I nodded.

"I do love you, Armand. Don't ask me how or why…I don't know. But that is what I feel in the very core of my being," I said staring into his beautiful face, knowing that I meant every word despite my confusion.

He lay there for a minute. I waited for him to say something or to do something, hoping that we could just continue where we had left off. At least I would die happy I thought, not without remorse…

In one swift motion he stood, glowering down at me. My eyes told me he moved too fast for the natural world, but I blanked out such meandering thoughts. There were other things to be pondered that were much more important. Like my life.

"I think perhaps I have given you the wrong impression, then. For I am completely unlovable, I assure you," he said. I went to move towards him, but the low growl that emanated from his throat stopped me.

And still she comes for me.

"You cannot tell me how I feel, Armand. Despite whatever supernatural powers you may have, you cannot hold power over someone's heart…" I uttered to him softly. I could see that there was a conflict inside him.

"You think not?" he said in a low voice. Had I not been trying to prove some point, I would have been more attuned to the danger in it. With the next word that I tried to say, he made a fierce and guttural noise, and I found myself pinned to the bed, my arms and legs spread out. I tried to pull my hands back to myself, but they would not move from where they were being held by some invisible force. My legs were pinioned in the same fashion. I turned my attention back to Armand, sure that he would kill me now for my foolishness at trying to argue with him.

Love conquers all, then? Love has never conquered anything for me. We will see how differently she feels after this…

He stood there, still as stone, glaring down at me. I had finally stopped trying to get free, realizing that it was futile. Whatever power he possessed held me as firmly as any iron shackles would have. I stared up at him, pleading with my eyes.

"It doesn't have to be like this, Armand. You know that, don't you?"

In response to my trembling voice I felt my coat ripping open down my chest, the buttons flying in all directions. I gave a startled cry, then looked down at myself. The fabric of my sweater strained and tore down the center as well, and my bra was ripped from me as though it were made of nothing. Pain from the scratch the hook left across my ribcage registered faintly in my panicked mind. My breasts were bare and heaving with the efforts of my breathing. His merciless stare unnerved me. I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears that were threatening to come. I had to be strong…had to hold on to his compassion…somehow.

My shoes, socks, pants and underwear all joined the rest of my clothing scattered about the floor in mere seconds. I lay there helpless and naked, various places on my body burning from the friction of the fabric that had been torn from me. I stared up at him. I had nothing left to lose. Anger mingled with fear inside me, and our stares were well matched. I tried to calm my breathing. His ferocious sneer came back then.

"Still in love, little one? Still think I hung the moon? Hmm?" I could see that he was trying to make it into a twisted joke, but I refused to join him. I clamped my mouth shut before I said something I would regret. His smile faltered. It was as though he wanted to destroy me from the inside out, but also did not enjoy doing so. And that was the only place I could resist him-- inside. He nodded at my silence and then began to take off his own coat. I watched him, unable to look away, even if I had wanted to. Which I did not. He unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it back off his shoulders and folding it carefully to lay across the arm of the chair behind him. His torso was completely visible to me, and I caught myself drinking in the sight of his rib and stomach muscles sliding and contracting with his movements. I focused on his beauty, to pull my mind back from the edge of panic. His hair was flowing around his shoulders. He came to the edge of the bed and sat down, removing his boots and pants. He glanced over at me, seeing me watching him, and smiled. He stood to lay his pants on the chair also, then turned to face me. My eyes raked over his perfect form.

He was young, as I had thought before. I could tell by the way the dark hair on his chest and abdomen had not yet grown as thick as it should have been, in contrast to his hair and eyebrows. And his skin was smooth and youthful-taught like a drum. His buttocks were round and dented on the sides. He was even more magnificent naked than he had been clothed. I let my appreciation of him fill me, beating back the fear. If he would only touch me, then my panic would be gone completely, I thought… Yes, I was definitely suffering from some form of love.

He frowned at my obvious lack of fear. A dark shadow shifted in his eyes, and before I could tell what his intentions were, he was upon me, covering my body with his own, staring me in the eye, his quickness meant to frighten me. His lips pulled tight across his teeth.

"And still, no fear from you? Do you not know that I intend rape?" he asked me scowling furiously. All I could think about were the points where his body was touching mine-our thighs, his cock, half hard, against my hip, his chest against my breast. Nothing else registered. I looked at him then, letting my lust show plainly on my face. His eyebrows drew together even tighter in response.

"Rape me, then," I whispered at him, smiling. I let my mind wander for a moment to the Uncle Remus story of a rabbit and a certain briar patch. His throaty curse brought me out of my reverie.

He sat back on the bed, his look more pensive then threatening now.

How is it that she has no fear of me? They are usually panicking idiots once I reveal my true self to them. And why do I feel pleased with this knowledge?

"I see that I have underestimated you," he said with an apologetic tone.

"Touch me, Armand. Go ahead," I whispered at him, trying to keep him in this softer frame of mind. He looked up at me, then let his gaze begin to slide over my prostrate form.

Her skin is so beautiful…how long has it been since I have touched a woman in such a way?

His hand fell lightly on my ankle and then slowly moved up my calf to my knee. I sighed as he continued with this light touch up the inside of my thigh. He hesitated at my parted nether lips, his hand hovering there as if warmed by my heat. I moved my hips, longing to make contact with his fingers that were so near. He glanced back up to my face, his eyes smoldering in reaction to this intimate movement. I was biting my bottom lip unconsciously, feeling fire lingering where his hand had departed from my thigh. He stayed his hand a moment longer, watching my slight movements, then brought his hand up against me to cup me gently. I closed my eyes and let out a long breath.

"So sweet…so open," I heard him whisper as he held me, his fingers dipping slightly into the moisture there.

"Open to you…" I answered him, turning my smoky gaze on him, wanting to reach out and pull him near. His lids lowered slightly. I felt him push a finger slowly into my warmth and moaned, letting my head fall back in surrender. I heard him sigh and felt his movement as he bent over to lick at my navel, my ribs, my breasts. His hair stroked my side. I longed to bury my hands in it, to press his head closer to me, but I still could not move. His finger circled inside me slowly, and I moaned again.

"Ahhhh…it has been so long…so long…" he whispered against my skin.

I can pretend her passion is love for me…if only for a little while…it will hurt nothing, and I seem as needy for this as she…

"Let me touch you, Armand. Free my hands. Please…" I pleaded with him. He was kissing his way across my collarbone and up my neck. I had no fear of him this time, only a thrumming desire for more.

"Not yet…" he answered me, his deep voice curling my toes. Then I felt his thighs slide between mine, his fingers pull out of me and hold me open, and his entire length slip sweetly inside me, perfectly sheathed. It was his turn to moan, and the sound of it sent my mind reeling with passion. He held himself buried inside me for several long moments. I held my breath, waiting for the friction of movement. He was still moaning when I felt his mouth press against my jugular vein. He pulled himself out and pushed in again, slowly, agonizingly. My own throaty noises joined his as he stroked my neck with his tongue in time with his slow thrusts. Within moments I found myself teetering on the precipice of orgasm. He picked up the pace then, pulling back to look at my face, watching the effects of what he was doing to me play across my features. I stared at him in turn, mesmerized by his open mouth, his smoldering eyes, his heavy breath.

"Armand…Armand…" I chanted, trying to find the words to tell him that it was time…that I was diving off the cliff headfirst…

"Yes, yes…cry out to me…give me everything…" he answered me, and I felt my hands freed at last. I wound them into his thick hair and felt him bury his teeth into me as wave after wave began to crash through my body, my soul. The slight pain of his bite echoed the slight pain of his pounding pelvis, both only adding to the fury of my orgasm. I could hear him swallowing and new that he was drinking from me and did not care. My shuddering had not even begun to subside when he tore his mouth away from my neck to throw his head back and yell triumphantly as his own release stormed through him. I felt lightheaded-with lust from watching him as much as from loss of blood. He fell forward onto me, slowly, shivering from the residual waves.

I held his head in my hands. His breathing was slowly calming. I could feel him still jumping inside me, causing me to tighten around him in primal reply. The warmth and wetness of my blood seeping under my head and shoulder did not bother me at all. Soon I felt myself start to slip into unconsciousness. I wanted to look into his eyes again.

"Armand?" I whispered, lifting his head. His brown eyes opened groggily, and a sweet smile began to spread across his lips.

"Yes, little one?" he shifted to the side to take his weight off my chest. The movement caused a surge of blood to flow from the gash in my neck. The world swam in front of my eyes.

"You see, you are quite lovable after all. To me…" I said this last as a strange darkness closed in. I thought I could hear him saying my name, as if he had not heard me. But it was too late to repeat it…I was now hovering above us and couldn't get back down to where we lay on the bed. Though my eyes were closed, I could see him jump up and tear at his own wrist with his razor sharp teeth. Seeing him cause himself pain made me wince inwardly, and then I watched, puzzled, as he let the blood flow from the gash in his wrist over my lips and into my mouth. Of course, I was rising up, floating farther and farther away and could not ask him why he was doing this. Then his words came clanging into my mind, bright as the sun…

Come back! Come back to me! I did not want you to die! I swear it!

And so I answered him in kind, only slightly surprised that I knew how to reach out to him in this telepathic way…

It is all right, Armand. I cannot come back now, but it is all right…