Persephone

12. Just a Taste

Alistair pulled Persephone down the hall, his nails digging into her fragile wrist. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over. Anger was rolling off of his tense figure in waves. Jaw tense, veins popping, Alistair was seizing.

When he finally found his words again, they were almost to their destination. His room.

They had traveled at an increasingly fast rated, to quick for a human, nearly knocking Persephone off her feet, but Alistair's grip on her arm kept her upright.

"I will not have you disrespect me in front of my subjects," he spoke his last words with disgust. Subjects. Like they were beneath him.

"I told you to do one simple thing," his voice was rising. If Persephone could not feel his painful grip on her arm, or seen the rage in his face, she would have heard it rumble in his baritone voice, "One simple thing, just keep your mouth shut. But could you do that," his harsh eyes turned on her, "But you could not, could you."

They had reached his room, with a yank he had thrust the thick wooden door open and shoved Persephone inside. She let out a sharp cry as she hit the floor, the force of his shove and the release of her arm finally allowed for her and the floor to meet.

There was a loud noise as Alistair slammed the door shut behind him. They were back in the room from Persephone's dream, the bed where it took place behind her.

Quickly, she flipped over, the skirt of her dressed splayed across the floor, cradling her wrist in her other hand. His sharp nails had broken the skin, little droplets of blood rose to the top, spilling over the cut.

Not much, but enough.

Persephone watched as the black rage in Alistair's eyes clouded over with red. Lust? Desire? Breathing in deep, his chest rose as his eyes zeroed in on her wrist.

Less than a second later, he was at her side, grasping her wrist in his hand once again. Wincing in pain, Persephone tried to pull away as he slowly lifted her wrist to his mouth and sucked at her small cuts. His tongue tracing the small crescents his fingernails had made.

A moan escaped his soft lips, relishing the taste of her blood. Tangy, yet sweet, her blood was addicting to him. More delicious than any he had ever tasted in his thousand years. More tasty to him than a Snickers to a starving man.

He needed more.

Lifting her from the floor, Alistair tossed her small figure onto the soft mattress, meticulously made that morning by the maid. He carried her as if she weighed no more than an apple.

Advancing towards her he tore off his suit jacket, quickly followed by his tie and vest. Fear danced its way through Persephone's veins. As Alistair removed his dress shirt, it slowly dawned on her what could possibly be happening, and tears streamed down her face; the thought of being violated in that way was too much for her.

Seeing the tears glistening on her porcelain face, Alistair blinked, the red never leaving his eyes, but realization flooded through them and his movements became less harsh. Slowly he approached her, gently wiping away her salty tears.

"Oh, hush, small girl," his eyes traveled over her body. Both hands grasped the sides of her face, looking into her mind.

Fear. So much fear.

He sighed, "No, not that, my love. Not yet." He leaned over her body on the bed, a knee on either side of her hips. Softly, he placed a chaste on her forehead, she closed her eyes, relaxing in his hands, but only ever so slightly. He moved his lips to her temple, pressing there, hiding his sharp incisors within his mouth. Next her cheek, her scent was intoxicating, he moved more hastily now. Her jaw, several down her neck, her collarbone. Her heart rate was now picking up, unsure of his motives. Had he been lying to her when he had said no? His entrancing lips rendered her mind mush as he trailed over her shoulder and down her arm. her bicep, the sensitive inner bit of her elbow, her forearm. When he had finally reached her wrist he could no longer control himself. Placing one last kiss to the pulsing skin there, just over her blue veins, he tipped her hand back, exposing it further to him, and pulled back his lips, allowing his incisors to elongate to their entire length. Without hesitation, he sunk his teeth into her pale flesh.

Persephone let out a bloodcurdling scream as the most intense pain she had ever felt flashed through her body, pulsating with each heartbeat as he sucked the blood from her system. Black spots crossed her vision as the man leaning over her moaned around her wrist. This was the best he had ever tasted, her blood drugging him as he drank from her ever weakening body. The sadistic side of his told him now would be the perfect time to take her completely, and although the fresh blood in his system clouded his mind, he knew now was not the right time. Not yet, it was too soon.

Persephone felt weaker by the second as the amount of blood in her body depleted, the pain never ceasing as the man above her ground his hips against hers.

She welcomed the blackness when it came.

a/n: it has occurred to me that it would possibly be more enjoyable if I updated with longer chapters. However that would take a longer time to update. 

Which would you guys rather have? Longer chapters and slower updates or short chapters like I've being doing and quick updates?

I apologize for the crappy chapter...