Fresh air, fresh blood

I found a stairwell and led her by the hand through darkness, my vision perfect where hers faltered. She gripped tight, trusting, oblivious to the sharpness of my nails grazing her soft skin.

The rooftop air hit us—cooler, cleaner. She trembled. Fear or cold, both intoxicating. I raised my arms to the black sky and inhaled its power. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"I've always taken comfort in darkness," she said, holding herself, arms crossed beneath her breasts. "A place to hide, feel enveloped and surrounded."

I pushed the memory again—my mouth on her skin, my body pinning hers—and watched her react. Her breathing quickened. Her nipples hardened beneath the thin fabric.

"There is power in darkness if you let it in," I said. "But before we go further, I must ask your name. It must match your beauty..."

She smiled coyly. "Alessandra."

The sound of it was electric. My power over her crystallized, absolute.

"Well Alessandra, it's my pleasure to join you tonight." I bowed slightly, opening my leather coat with theatrical formality, then approached. "You seem chilled. Allow me."

I pulled her into my arms and wrapped the coat around us both. My pheromones—ancient, predatory, irresistible—enveloped her. She melted against me, helpless and unaware.

"Have you ever desired to be taken by darkness?" I growled in her ear. "Feel it inside you? Pulsing and reverberating through your body?"

A small moan escaped her lips. "Yes..."

"Don't fight it. Ask for it. Accept it." My nails dug slightly into her back through the coat. "Tell me how you want it. How it's the only thing you've ever desired."

"But who are you?" she whispered, eyes closed, afraid to look directly at me. "How can you know my desires?"

"I'm your master, your savior. Call me Raul. Your wolf, your predator." I held her tighter, nails breaking skin just enough to sting. "Don't hold back. Tell me what you want. What you've *always* wanted."

"I want you inside me." Her voice was pure surrender. "I want your darkness inside me. I want to be yours and serve your needs. I only desire you."

I laid her on the concrete, coat spreading beneath and around us. Towering over her, I descended and kissed her deeply, tasting her sweetness. She licked eagerly, hungry. I let my fangs extend fully and pierced her lip—just enough to draw blood. The first real taste of her exploded across my tongue, and my cock strained painfully against my jeans.

I tore her dress open. Her breasts sprang free, perfect and soft. I dragged one sharp nail across the curve of her breast, leaving a thin red line that beaded immediately. I lapped at it, groaning at the taste, the desire, the inevitability.

I freed my cock—thick, leaking, ****—and stroked it once before positioning myself. She was soaked, ready, and I slid into her in one swift thrust. She cried out. My hips rocked against her, finding rhythm, building toward what we both needed.

My eyes glowed crimson as I looked down at her—moaning, pulling me deeper, completely lost. My fangs fully descended, saliva slick with venom. "Do you accept your fate, Alessandra?" I snarled between thrusts. "Do you desire this power? My glory? My gift?"

"YES!" she screamed. "Make me in your image. I need to serve your existence only."

I pumped harder, faster, our bodies racing toward climax together. My face found her neck, sucking at the pulse point, feeling her heartbeat against my lips. I raised my head, inhaled deeply, hissed, and bared my fangs fully. Our eyes met. I smiled grimly.

Then I struck.

My fangs sank deep into her throat. Hot blood flooded my mouth—rich, sweet, laced with arousal and submission. I sucked eagerly as it flowed, and simultaneously my orgasm hit like lightning. I came hard inside her, still drinking, still thrusting, pleasure and feeding merged into one transcendent experience.

Her heart rate slowed beneath my mouth. I could feel her dying and being reborn in the same breath.

I bit my own tongue until blood pooled in my mouth, then withdrew my fangs and kissed her, letting the mixture—her blood, mine, venom—drip between our lips. She swallowed instinctively. Our blood mingled inside her, sealing the transformation.

Her body went still. Dead but not dead. Waiting.

I leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Don't stay too long, dear. We might have an eternity, but the night's only so long."

I stood, wiping my mouth with my sleeve, and surveyed my work. Alessandra lay sprawled on the rooftop, dress torn, blood on her lips, my coat tangled around her cooling body. Beautiful. Mine.

I looked out over the city, hunger already stirring again.

A good start.

But I was ready for seconds.