When he retreated once more, it was only long enough to start stroking in and out of her body, penetrating and then retreating, pushing and pulling, and as her body released its tension and her arousal mounted, his thrusts quickened and the power behind them built to a demanding pace. He pounded, forcing her body to accept all of him, and she did as her orgasm built to near-explosive power, and with one final painful invasion that consumed her body, she came, and he did too. It left them both collapsed together, and as he rolled from her body, he pulled her desperately into his arms and held her tightly.
She listened to the odd sound of his heart. It sounded strange, but she didn’t know why. Perhaps too slow, uneven, and off in some way, but as he pulled her face up to his, she forgot the oddity of it and let him kiss her. His lips were cool and soothing against her own, and she gave him every last taste of her mouth he wanted. She listened to the rain pouring outside, and she relished the private and intimate feel of what they’d just done.
She drifted away to the land between consciousness and sleep, still with visions of making love to him running through her mind. These visions were different than today though. They were a different time, a different bed, a different and yet amazing experience. For some reason, her mother’s death came to mind, and as it did, the morning after her burial floated to the front of her consciousness. She’d awoken in her bed dressed in a nightgown, but not remembering anything of how she’d gotten there. Her body was sore, much as it was right now, and a throbbing pain was pulsing through her groin. And yet, there was no memory to support her pain.
She’d risen, not wanting to face the depression of losing her mother but confused and disoriented. She had remembered nothing of the day before except sitting by her mother’s coffin in one moment and then waking in her bed the next. As she’d sank into the bath, the burning and searing pain in her groin had stabbed her senses and left her gasping as her body adjusted to the warmth. When she was bathed, she dressed and decided she should see a doctor, but as she’d backed her car from the driveway, she’d stopped, and with a shaky laugh that showed her confusion more than any humor, she’d commented to no one in particular, “You’re crazy, Ember. They’ll throw you in the loony bin.” She’d pulled back into the driveway. She never found the missing time, but she was reminded of it now for a moment before she finally fell off to sleep to the sound of the rain beating her window pane.
He watched her sleep and breathed her scent. The slightest tinge of blood clung to her body, and he wanted to taste it again, but he wasn’t going to wake her. He recognized the feel of her the moment he felt her body along his in the vestibule, and that was the last moment of restraint he had until he’d released himself within her body. Condom. That was laughable were he not more than willing to go along with the socially acceptable and safe approach to sex she had. He just wanted her. It didn’t matter that he could make love to her a hundred times in a month and not worry about impregnating her, but he wasn’t willing to have that conversation with her at the moment.
He hated withholding himself from her, but it was safer. His kind valued their anonymity, and it wouldn’t take long for them to figure out a living, breathing human was harboring far more knowledge of them than they were comfortable with. Vampires as a whole were watchers. They studied the movements of humans as much as each other, and Truman’s attachment to the human hadn’t gone unnoticed. He’d protected her by withholding himself from her or wiping her memory of him quickly.
One night, perhaps even one week, of her knowledge of him was likely safe, but the longer the knowledge lingered in her mind, the closer they would draw to her and the more danger she would be in. He wasn’t willing to give her back his memory just to be forced to take it once again. He couldn’t stay away from her, and so, he had to do it in this manner if he was going to be with her—hiding himself but indulging in her. She would come to know him as a human, and he would hold her memories in his hand, wishing she could see him, but accepting he could safely have her in this way only. It would be enough. It had to be enough because he couldn’t endure her distance any longer.
After watching her sleep, he woke her with his mouth along her shoulder, and as he trailed kisses down her back, she wriggled against his mouth, and he hardened at the scent of her arousal. His mouth and tongue worked on her body as her arousal continued to build. She was lying on her stomach, and as he eased one of her legs up, opening her pussy to him, his fingers touched and stroked her wetness. At his touch, she hummed her barely conscious approval, and when his finger delved within her silken-wet entry, she pushed her body into his hand. She was waking further with every slow penetration of his finger, but before she was fully awake, he pushed his body between her legs from behind her, parting her knees wide. When he was sure she was fully awake and ready for him, he pulled her up to her knees but pushed her chest to the mattress. Her ass was up, and her knees were parted and ready for him, and as he obliged her completely unnecessary need for safety, he sheathed his body quickly before prodding between the lips of her vagina with the head of his cock.
Her warmth was intoxicating to the coolness of his skin. He loved the feel of warmth—had since the loss of his own life. And her warmth was everything his body longed for. It gripped him in her need, it fit his body snuggly, and it soothed his desires as he plunged and pounded into her tightness. He could see the tight entry of her bottom, and it begged for his touch, though he doubted she realized it. As he stroked one penetration after another into her body, he let his finger wander to her anus. He touched and massaged the tightness without pushing through the tight rim. Her fingers gripped the sheets at her shoulders, and her face that was resting on her cheek moved to bury itself in the sheets as her nervousness at his touch worked through her body. She wanted this touch, but it scared her. He could sense it in the smell of her arousal coupled with the scent of her fear. But he wasn’t interested in frightening her, and as his pace quickened, her tension melted.
He pushed and pulled with a steady but demanding force, and he watched her body take him. He felt like a God as he pounded and she accepted, and it made his cold heart soar in elation … but it was short-lived. He was so in love with her it was nearly overwhelming and threatened to leave him collapsed around her body. It was too much, losing her for two years and tormenting himself with her. And now as he watched his body invading hers, he couldn’t shake the understanding of her mortality. He could imagine her dying as he watched, he could see disease and death taking her, and it left his breath lurching and gasping as the images overcame him. He couldn’t live without her, but he couldn’t watch her age and die from his life either. He was making love to a woman who knew him so well, but whose memory of him was so hidden and buried in her mind that he was nothing more than a stranger. A stranger she wanted so much she was willing to allow him into her body, but a stranger nonetheless. And as he watched himself making love to her body, a guilt he didn’t want to feel overcame him and a dread of her future as well. He pulled swiftly from her body and walked from the room to her bathroom before she could even react.
He stared in her mirror at himself—yes, even he had a reflection—and he hated it at this moment. He was gasping as the panic hit and the pain of his thoughts racked his body. She opened the door and saw his state, and as her eyes bulged in worry and fear, he stammered. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” As she shook her head in confusion at his words, the truth settled into his mind. He had no business being with her. There was a reason they weren’t meant to be together. He would live forever, and she would be one day closer to dying every day he spent with her. He wasn’t doing either of them a favor. “I have to go.”