Willow didn't think, didn't doubt it. She took the dagger from her left boot, slit her wrist, and placed her hand over the vampire's mouth.
She gently cradled his head at her chest, taking his weight as the drops of her blood coated his lips.
At first, it didn't look like the vampire was taking it. It's hard to say. Not even his chest is moving. Sweat gathered on her forehead. Restlessness twitched her muscles, reaching into her bones. Why isn't anything happening? Her throat closed around a hard lump. She couldn't fail after coming so far.
She gently rubbed his throat, coercing him to swallow as blood dripped from her wrist and trickled from his mouth.
"Please... please," Willow whispered vehemently not knowing whom she was begging or for what.
After a few seconds, his tongue peeked out slowly and swept over his lips, tasting her blood.
Exhilarated, Willow shifted her hand nearer to his mouth, pleading with him to take some more without any words.
Suddenly his right hand held her wrist in a vice-like grip as he held on her wrist sinking his teeth.
Willow felt a prick where his fangs pierced her skin and then... then euphoria engulfed her. A moan slipped past her tight lips. With each pull, her pheromones heightened, increasing her arousal. Time, place lost their worth in her drugged state.
Willow started shifting in her seat, trying to lessen the ache between her legs. She wants, no she needs the release, the climax that only he could provide her.
Her hand that held the vampire's head moved over his thick, long hair enjoying the texture of it. Her nipples pebbled, poking her leather suit. Pleasure built inside her seeking a getaway.
Her breath quickened; her clit throbbed for attention. She bit her lip to contain her moans in vain. The smell of sweet arousal filled the space. Her core clenched.
Willow whimpered as the need became unbearable. She rubbed her chest over the shoulder of the vampire, unconcerned about any inhibitions.
Her pants filled the air. "Yes... yes..." Willow groaned as he sucked her blood. Ecstasy invaded her veins, pumping her heart faster. She can almost taste the freedom on her tongue... almost visible yet out of reach.
However, before she could reach the pinnacle her limbs became heavy. With each suction, her body weakened. Her breath came in short gasps. Darkness crept around her vision, her pulse slowing down with each swallow, her heartbeat decreased. She tried to snatch her hand back but in vain.
The vampire has a firm grip over her, his strength returning with each pull, sucking her life force. Willow's strength has already declined from the usage of her power. She doesn't think she can make it if this prolongs.
Blackness invaded the corner of the eye. She is losing grip on reality. Her heart's slow dum-dum protest is the only thing that filled her ears. That and the sounds made by the vampire while he gurgled.
It didn't take long for her to slip into oblivion. Willow wished that this was not the last time she closed her eyes. But she didn't know. She didn't know if the vampire was going to finish the job he started. She knows nothing about him. And she is defenseless to stop.
Regret is a sour taste in her mouth. Her parents' faces danced in front of her eyes. She has so much to do. She has to find the vampire king and make him pay. She can't die like this. Surely, this is not the end. But she is helpless to stop. A tear slipped from her eyes as she fell backward, her body unable to support her weight.
Her sudden change in the position must have alerted the vampire. Before she closed her eyes, she met that of the brown ones of the vampire.
She thought she heard, "Beautiful" before succumbing to the abyss.
Lothaire doesn't know what to make of the woman in his arms. Her head lolled uncomfortably to the side.
He carefully laid her head on the bed of the truck and took in her features. She is beautiful. Her eyes, her sharp cheekbones, her hair, everything is otherworldly.
He licked the wound where he punctured her hand, sealing it. His hands gently caressed the long tresses that covered her face.
Her hair is so smooth like silk, no, better than that. He traced her lips with his thumb, wanting to touch them, devour them, taste them. Just looking at her is making him hard. Need building inside him after staying cold for so long. Her curves only enticed him more.
Lothaire's palm itched to knead those perky breasts that are tempting him through her leather suit. His hands moved over the dip of her hips, almost there but not yet touching.
Her long legs are begging to be wrapped around him while he pumped into her, taking his pleasure from her willing body.
Lothaire inhaled her smell into his lungs, enjoying the essence of warm, sweet arousal. His fangs extended. With a great will that is unlike him, he fisted his hands shoving the lustful thoughts.
He checked her mouth for fangs... there are none. She is not a vampire. Though he guessed it from her blood, he wanted to be sure.
Her slow heartbeat alerted him to the impending trouble. Lothaire should leave her here, let her die in peace. After all, she fulfilled her purpose.
But... he doesn't know where to go from here. Whom to trust. He remembers nothing. Other than the confines of his cell, his mind is a blank slate.
He looked at the beauty in his arms. He should be thankful for her interference but he can't help himself but doubt her motive. Everyone has a motive, an end goal with him. Because that's what he faced since he woke up in that dungeon with no memory of who he is.
He needs a guide, a scapegoat to travel these murky waters. Until he gets strong again and can handle himself. Until he makes everyone pay for his state. And he has no doubt he will. They got him once in his weakened state, but he is wiser now. Guarded. Never again.
He traced her plump lips with his eyes... he doesn't trust her. Trust is something far-fetched for him. But he can use her for his purposes. Use her to guard his back until the time comes when he doesn't have any need for her.
And then there is her taste... Lothaire licked his lips, savoring the rich taste of her. Yes... yes, she would be an asset. Should be easy to dispose of when the time comes nevertheless, an asset.
Heaving a sigh for the inconvenience this woman is already causing him, Lothaire pierced his wrist with his fangs, lifted her head, and placed it against his lips.
She may not be a vampire but she will benefit from his blood. Vampire blood has healing properties that will speed up the process. This is why it is illegal... banned and kept as a closely guarded secret. Other than the vampire's no one knows about it. No one wants to be used as a lab rat for their blood.
Once he is satisfied that enough has entered her system, Lothaire licks his wrists, sealing the wounds with the saliva on his tongue. It will take some time for her to heal from the inside. But she will live.
What a hustle! He rubbed her cheeks with his knuckles. So soft... so innocent with nothing blemishing the skin. Yes... she will do it. But would she retain that after he is through with her?
He felt guilt tugging at his consciousness. But not enough to leave her alone. He needs blood. Lothaire gazed at her curves. He can't remember when he bedded a woman last time. Why not use her for both?
Placing her head back on the bed of the truck once again, Lothaire dropped to the ground, neatly landing on his feet.
He can feel the grass beneath his foot. He inhaled the fresh air that's not polluted by the stale smells of the cell that used to make him choke. He stretched his arms in abundance, his palms open wide, experiencing the freedom from the shackles. All he knew was those chains that tied him to the wall, restricting his movement. Making him feel like an animal. Not anymore.
It felt like an eternity had passed for him to experience these simple things. Perhaps it may have been. If only he could remember what happened to him or who is behind this. Rage built inside him, clawing his insides.
Lothaire clenched his fists, his nostrils flaring. That's the only outward emotion he showed. He bottled up his anger. It's not the time or place. The time will come when his enemy will experience his wrath.
For a person who thrives in control, he lost everything. He became a puppet, unable to defend himself. Never again.
He would die in glory then get shackled to those chains once again. Death and destruction took the front seat on his mind.
Shoving his darker thoughts aside, he scanned the surroundings. He knows nothing about this area... rather he can't remember anything. Groaning in frustration, Lothaire punched the side of the truck, denting it.
The female is not going to like it, were his thoughts as he boarded the truck once again after doing a quick scan.
Sensing the upcoming dawn, Lothaire maneuvered the vehicle, driving aimlessly, his mind on how to convince the woman to help him. He knows in his gut that making her agree to his plan is a battle in itself.