Love Nip

“Will it hurt?” she asked.

            He sighed. He pulled away and looked her sternly in the eye. She wasn't trying to be difficult, really she wasn't.

            He thought for a moment. “It's like getting a shot. Just little pin pricks.”

            She shivered in mock fear. She really didn't like shots, but that wasn't enough to dissuade her.

            She nodded and took a deep breath. She was ready. He was tired. He just wanted to get this over with.

            He again made his approach. He gently moved away some hair that had fallen on to her neck. He breathed in her fragrant taste. He silently parted his lips. He gently pressed his mouth to the surface of her neck.

            “How will it feel after, when it happens?”

            He pushed away as he threw his hands into the air. “You aren't serious about this. You don't really want it.”

            She shook her head frantically. “No, no, I want it, really. I'm sorry. I'm just nervous.”

            He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She played with a piece of her short hair without looking at him. He sighed again. She was such a tiresome girl.

            “Listen Love, afterwards there will be some pain, but I'll be with you, and we'll be together forever. So what have you got to be worried about?”

            He made his approach again. He pulled her hands to her waist. He paused for a moment expecting some other imbecilic question.

            “Love,” she said in a dreamy far off sort of way.

            He almost laughed at how pathetic she sounded. “Love.”

            He pushed away the hair from her neck. He parted his lips ever so much. He breathed deeply her fresh virgin scent.

            “Love,” she breathed again.

            He smiled to her slender pale neck. Gently he kissed the nape of her neck. Her heart fluttered like a little butterfly in her chest. His smile widened. She was almost too easy. He opened his jaws wider. She did not move, too entranced by love. He licked the skin over the carotid. Still she did not move. He paused for a moment, waiting for terror, or second guessing, but still she did not move.

            His next move was lightning fast. He clamped down upon her neck, sinking in is fangs. She squeaked in surprise and pain. It wasn't like getting a shot, not at all. She wanted very much for him to stop, but he didn't. She told herself, 'soon it'll be time and he'll stop,' but he didn't. She began to panic. She started to try and pull away but every attempt only made his grip tighter. She kept struggling until she had no strength to fight any more. She wanted to get away, but her limbs wouldn't cooperate. She couldn't move at all.

            She started to feel very warm. Everything was fuzzy. Her whole body was numb. Her thoughts floated on a sea of cotton. His bite stopped hurting. The light around her began to blur and sway. Soon she couldn't really see anything at all. She felt very strange. She couldn't really explain it. It was a feeling of complete comfort. She felt warm and safe and comfortable in her sea of fuzz. She started to forget everything, because there was nothing but the fuzziness. She was happy. She didn't really have 'thought' any more. Only fuzziness. She couldn't remember her own name. Just the fuzziness and then the world went black.

"The stroke of death is as a lovers pinch, Which hurts and is dersired" ~Shakespeare