The End of Me

Heating Up

SIMON

I don't know what I was thinking, asking for this. This is terrifying. A vampire has me pinned to the wall and is drinking my blood. What if he can't stop?

What if I don't want him to stop?

I close my eyes and try not to think about it. But my body is screaming that I'm in danger, that people die like this. Or become vampires like this. How does that even work? Do i have to bite him back? I'll not do that, just in case.

Before I'm ready for him to stop, he stops. He pulls away slightly, looks into my eyes.

"Why'd you stop?" i breathe out the breath i was holding.

He wipes his mouth on his sleeve. "Because I told you I would. Any more would be dangerous."

"But I feel fine, and-" I cut myself off. And I want you to keep going. I finally feel useful for once. I love that you want me, even though its for this. I want you to want me for other things and maybe just like in general and maybe this can be a gateway into more if I could just get the words out.

"And what, Snow?"

"And nothing. I'm okay, really."

I lean in for a kiss, he shies away.

"Oh come on, I've kissed you after rats before, this isn't a big deal"

"Jesus, Snow, its your own blood. It's a big deal. Thats how you get.. i dunno, diseases and stuff. Aids maybe."

"I don't think that's how it works," i giggle.

"Whatever." He buries his face into my shoulder nervously, checks the spot on my neck where blood is slowly trickling down to my collarbone. He licks it clean, and his tongue on my neck reawakens the fear/arousal within me.

I can't help but let out a little moan as his teeth latch carefully onto my skin, not with harmful intent this time. He doesn't break anymore skin, just gently sucks the wound to get it to stop bleeding. Or maybe he's still thirsty, I dont really know how this works.

What I do know is that I have a raging boner, and I'm trying not to be weird about it. I don't think this is a sexual thing for him,  just like I wouldn't necessarily get off to opening a can of soup. Or maybe if the can of soup was Baz I might.

One of my hands finds the back of his head and pulls his dark hair between my fingers. Now its his turn to moan. Good, so I'm not completely imagining the sexual tension.

He's practically making out with my neck at this point, and the soft skin is tender where he's mauled it. He hits my sweet spot and my body arches up to meet his.

He grabs my hips and holds our bodies together, and I know he feels my arousal between us because his breath catches in his throat and i feel his cock start to harden.

Pretty soon we're grinding our bodies together, wishing there was less clothing between us but not willing to pull away long enough to remove any.

Eventually he pulls himself off of me, eyeing me hungrily as he lifts his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. I start to do the same, but the wings make shirt removal a whole ordeal. It winds up ripped and on the floor, and our pants soon join it there.

Baz is back on top of me, trying to ram his tongue down my throat. Apparently he forgot about the diseases. I'm not mad.

He's in complete control of the situation and I'm like putty in his hands. He wraps my tail around his wrist and tugs at the base, drawing a moan from me that gets lost in our kiss. I would do anything for him in this moment.

When we have to come up for air, he rasps in my ear, "bedroom, now."

I don't argue, just wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me out of the kitchen.