A Gothic Winter Tale

[janebecomes]

Jane has found herself a nook in the library and is lost in the poetry of Catullus, a translation she found that she's not seen before.

The night is starting to draw in and so her shawl is pulled tightly around her as she wonders about the kind of passion and lust that inspired such words.

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[janebecomes]

"Yes, they make me who I am."

His touch keeps all her thoughts on where his hand is and her words seem to take too much breath to speak.

[vojvode]

The velvet of his voice takes on an edge, and the weight of centuries. There is a dark hunger here, and he shares it with her.

"Give me the pulse of your heart, Jane. Give me -- life."

[janebecomes]

That weight terrifies and entrances her so she leans once more towards him, she wants to understand, to know some of that dangerous, sweet darkness,

"Yes."

[vojvode]

His touch trails down to her chin, lifts it to expose the column of her throat. He bends his head and breathes her in, his lips skimming over her skin.

"I will hold you in my mouth, Jane. And your words will be a part of me for all eternity."

Cradling her head, his grip at her waist tightens as he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into that sweet flesh.

[janebecomes]

She's not sure of anything other than how close he is and how time seems to have stopped, there is only him and now.

When his teeth break her skin, she gasps in pain.

[vojvode]

He moans softly, holding her tight, keeping her close as he strokes her hair. His mouth feels like a furnace against her skin, and there is nothing more intimate than this exchange. His jaw works, the serpent tearing at the wound to keep the blood flowing.

He pours pleasure into her mind, wraps her tight in the ecstasy he feels as her life flows down his throat. Balancing the savagery with sweetness, determined to see her undone if only for a moment.

[janebecomes]

Jane's never known such passion and all of her words are lost in gasps that are almost moans as her hair starts to work loose under his hands.

[vojvode]

He drinks as much as he can without threatening her life, listening carefully to the spaces between the beats of her heart. She is strong and young, and beautiful. And he knows, her words will not need him to attain immortality.

Just a few more moments, just a few more breaths.

He twists his hand tighter in her hair, wanting to hear the pleasure on her lips.

[janebecomes]

As his hand moves in her hair, one of the gasps finally becomes a moan as she presses herself to him and her dark hair falls around her face.

[vojvode]

His lips part from her skin with a gasp, his dark eyes shot through with crimson. He watches her face as she sees his true visage.

It is the last thing she sees before his hand passes over her eyes. "Sleep. Sleep and forget." The shadows close in tight, dragging her down into darkness.

The candle gutters and is extinguished.