Flying through the air isn't how I expected this night to end, but here I am, sailing across Maeve's bedroom before landing with a soft bounce on what has to be the biggest bed I've ever seen. It's covered in dark silk sheets that feel cool against my palms as I push myself up onto my elbows.
"Jesus," I mutter, trying to catch my breath. My heart's pounding like I just ran a marathon, which is ridiculous considering she's the one who did all the work carrying me up here.
Maeve stands at the foot of the bed, her tall frame silhouetted against the dim lighting. The Bruins hat is gone now, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders like spilled ink. Her red eyes gleam in the darkness as she shrugs off that Carhartt jacket, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud.
"Your bedroom is insane," I say, glancing around at what looks like something out of a gothic castle renovation show. Vaulted ceilings disappear into shadows above us, and actual honest-to-god tapestries hang on stone walls. There's even a fireplace. "Do all vampires live like medieval royalty, or is this just your personal aesthetic?"
She doesn't answer. Instead, she crawls onto the bed toward me with the grace of a predator. Each movement is deliberate.
"You want this," she says. It's not a question.
I swallow hard, watching as she moves closer. "It's hard not to want a beautiful woman sucking on my neck," I reply, aiming for casual but my voice comes out embarrassingly hoarse.
Her lips curve into a smile that makes my stomach do a little flip. "You are an idiot," she purrs, now close enough that I can feel the cool whisper of her breath against my skin.
"No need to be rude," I manage, trying to sound offended, but the words barely make it out before she's there, her mouth at my throat.
There's a sharp sting as her fangs pierce my skin, and I flinch instinctively. But then…
Oh God.
The pain vanishes, replaced by a sensation so intense it knocks the breath right out of me. It's like every nerve ending in my body suddenly lights up at once. Pleasure. Pure, unfiltered pleasure, radiates from my neck outward, spreading through my chest, my limbs, all the way to my fingertips and toes.
A moan escapes me, soft and involuntary. My arms feel like they're filled with lead, too heavy to lift. I can't move, don't want to move. My eyes flutter as I surrender completely to the feeling.
Suddenly, the pleasure stops as she tears herself away from me. One second she's drinking me in, the next she's across the room, her back pressed against the wall. The abruptness of it leaves me gasping, my body still tingling.
"What the fuck?" Maeve whispers, her voice shaking. Her normally pale face is flushed crimson, almost matching her eyes, which are glowing brighter than before, like actual neon red signs in the dim room.
I push myself up on trembling arms, feeling dizzy and confused. "What's wrong?" The words come out slurred, like I've had way too much to drink. My neck throbs where her fangs had been, but not painfully, more like a phantom echo of that incredible sensation.
She's breathing hard, which seems weird for someone who's technically undead. Her chest heaves as she stares at me with wild eyes. One hand grips the stone wall behind her so tightly I can hear the scrape of her nails against it.
"Your blood..." she gasps, looking at me like I'm both the most terrifying and most fascinating thing she's ever seen. "I can't… I've never felt…" She cuts herself off, pushing away from the wall only to pace frantically across the room.
I watch, still dazed, as she flexes her fingers and rolls her shoulders like she's testing out a new body. "It's like liquid lightning," she continues, her voice dropping to an awed whisper. "I can feel it in every cell... power I've never known before."
She stops pacing abruptly and turns to face me, her expression intense. "What are you?"
"Just a guy," I mumble, still trying to catch my breath. "A regular human as far as I know."
Maeve laughs, but it's not like before, this sound is almost manic, bordering on desperate. "No human has blood like that. It's like..." She shakes her head, apparently at a loss for words. "Like drinking undiluted sunlight without burning."
She takes a hesitant step toward the bed, then another. Her movements are different now, fluid but restrained, like she's fighting against some invisible force pulling her toward me. When she reaches the edge of the mattress, she grips the bedpost so hard the wood creaks in protest.
"Vincent," she breathes, her voice husky and raw. "It was... filling. In a way I've never felt before."
She looks at me with those blazing red eyes, her chest still heaving. There's something primal in her gaze that makes my mouth go dry.
"I couldn't drain you dry if I wanted to," she continues, sounding almost reverent. "I think it would kill me."
Her expression is filled with excitement. Pure, unbridled excitement that makes her whole body seem to vibrate with energy. I've never seen anyone look at me like this before, like I'm the most valuable thing they've ever encountered.
Before I can process what's happening, Maeve is on the bed again, her strong hands gripping my shirt. With one swift movement, she tears it clean off me. The sound of fabric ripping fills the room as she shreds my clothes like they're made of tissue paper.
"My clothes…" My protest dies in my throat as she stands and practically tears her own clothes off, revealing pale skin that seems to glow in the dim light. Her body is a masterpiece of curves and strength, her breasts full and perfect.
My brain short-circuits completely. This can't be happening. Women like her don't look at guys like me, much less rip their clothes off in a frenzy. But the evidence is right in front of me.
She straddles me in one fluid motion, her weight pinning me to the mattress. Despite her skin being cool to the touch everywhere else, when she positions herself above me and slides down onto my cock, I'm shocked by the heat. Her pussy is impossibly hot and wet, like molten silk enveloping me.
A pathetic whimper escapes my lips at the sensation. I've never felt anything like this, it's overwhelming, mind-blowing, beyond anything I could have imagined.
"Your blood," she moans, beginning to move her hips, "it's like a fire blazing into me, Vincent. Burning through every vein."
Her movements start slow but quickly build in intensity. She's not gentle. Each downward thrust is hard enough to make the massive bed squeak beneath us. Her hands pin my wrists to the mattress with inhuman strength, her nails digging into my skin just shy of drawing blood.
"Fuck," I gasp, my hands finding her hips, feeling the powerful muscles working beneath her smooth skin. "Maeve…"
She leans down, her mouth tracing a burning path from my chest to my throat. Each kiss feels like fire against my skin, making me shiver despite the heat between us. When she reaches my neck, I tense, remembering what happened before, not scared, just eager.
"More," I whisper.
Maeve's lips find mine in a bruising kiss that steals what little breath I have left. Her tongue slides against mine, tasting faintly metallic. My own blood. Our tongues dance together as she continues to ride me, her movements growing more frantic, more desperate.
Then she breaks the kiss, trailing her lips back down to my neck. I feel her smile against my skin before her fangs pierce me again in that same spot.
The sensation hits me even harder this time, a tidal wave of pleasure that makes my back arch off the bed. It's everywhere at once, flowing through me like liquid gold, making every nerve ending sing. I can't think, can't breathe, can only feel as she drinks from me while her hips maintain their relentless rhythm.
"This is the best moment of my entire life." I gasp.
She makes a sound against my neck, something between a moan and a growl.
"Vincent," she murmurs against my skin, finally pulling her fangs free. "You taste like power."
I'm completely lost in the moment, overwhelmed by sensation. My entire body tenses as the pressure builds inside me, coiling tight like a spring about to snap.
"Fuck, Maeve!" I cry out, my voice breaking as I explode inside her, pumping hard and deep. My orgasm hits with such force that my vision blurs at the edges, every muscle contracting as I pour myself into her.
Maeve's eyes fly wide open, her pupils expanding until they nearly swallow the red. "What…" she gasps, her body going rigid above mine. Then she throws her head back and lets out a scream that would wake the dead.
"Fuck! Your cum… It does it too?" she shrieks, her voice echoing off the stone walls as her body convulses around mine. "How is this possible?"
I can barely process what she's saying as I continue to empty myself inside her, each pulse sending fresh waves of pleasure through my spent body. Her eyes are glowing brighter now, like twin embers stoked into roaring flames.
She's still screaming, her body trembling as she grinds against me, drawing out every last drop. The sound is ecstasy.
Maeve crashes down onto me, capturing my mouth in a kiss so intense it feels like electricity arcing between us. Actual sparks seem to dance where our lips meet, tiny pinpricks of light I can see even with my eyes closed. It's impossible, but I swear I can taste the power flowing between us.
"You beautiful fucking moron," she gasps against my lips, her voice trembling with something like wonder. "You're going to make me the strongest vampire in the world."
I grunt incoherently into her mouth as the last pulses of my orgasm finally subside, leaving me boneless and drained. When she finally releases my lips, I collapse back onto the pillow, panting hard.
Maeve hovers over me, her eyes wild and impossibly bright, her smile stretched wide across her face. She's practically vibrating with energy, her hands moving frantically over my face, tracing my cheekbones, my jaw, my lips, like she's trying to memorize me by touch.
"Even your god-forsaken cum is filled with this insane energy," she whispers, her voice thick with wonder.
I lie beneath her, completely wrecked, trying to catch my breath while she stares at me like I'm some kind of miracle drug.
"I wonder..." she murmurs, her head tilting with scientific curiosity. "Is it just your blood and cum, or is it everything?"
Before I can ask what she means, she ducks her head and runs her tongue along my neck where a thin sheen of sweat has formed. The sensation makes me shiver as she traces a wet path up to my jawline, then across my cheek. I groan as she practically bathes my face with long, deliberate strokes of her tongue, collecting every drop of moisture on my skin.
When she pulls back, her eyes are like twin rubies catching firelight.
"Oh my..." she breathes, looking down at me with an expression that's equal parts fascination and hunger. "What am I going to do with you?"