Hello Wipsters! Well, it’s all good news. ‘Melting’ has been edited and shipped off for my Christmas Anthology and I’m back with ‘Good As Dead,’ which is now beginning to take shape. It’s changed a little here and there… but I’m having plenty of fun with it.
Good As Dead
Even though he did not relish the thought of sucking her blood, he savoured the moment of the bite. His nose pressed up against her neck, his mouth watered, and his fangs pleaded to be let loose. Taking another breath of her tantalising scent deep into his lungs, he let the beast out.
The connection was instant. Her blood filled his mouth and it was the strangest concoction he had ever tasted. On the one hand it flowed through him like the sweetest syrup, bringing forth an instant erection as desire pounded through every pore in his body. In the next, a bitter aftertaste coursed through him that could be likened to drinking castor oil, mixed with an impressive shot of menthol. The result was a vampire who couldn’t decide whether he wanted to pounce upon his next victim, or shove his head over the toilet. It made little difference to her, for she managed an instantaneous orgasm, bucking and jolting against his hard flesh. Holding his arms tight against her, he made sure she didn’t hurt herself as the throes of pleasure were ridden out. It was all right for some. He didn’t get his unless penetration was involved, and that looked unlikely at the moment, and for the next few days at least. Still, they could work on that. If they didn’t get themselves killed first.
Swallowing against the vile taste that flooded his throat, he had no other option but to cut the bite short. On the plus side, his hunger proved no danger, but the disgusting taste was going to remain inside him for days. Goddamn. He had yet another reason to loath his unwanted friend.
Quickly pulling away, his tongue desperately trying to cleanse the taste of poisoned blood away, he found his whole body throbbing in pain. Desire lanced through him and the precious little blood inside him sang. Growling, he got to his feet and flexed his shaking fingers. This was going to be a problem.
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