by Amanda Long
Just be yourself. You are who he fell in love with.
She turned from the mirror, inhaled a deep breath, and reached for the doorknob.
*****
Dorian paced back and forth beside the bed, unsure what to do with himself, while he waited for her to reemerge from the bathroom. He needed something to occupy his time or he'd likely wear a rut in the floor with his pacing. He stopped and looked at the bed adorn with kissing swans and rose petals. The swans were cute, but in the wrong way. He carefully removed each one, trying hard not to unfold them.
He glanced down at himself. He had no idea how she would be dressed when she emerged from the bathroom. He didn’t want to be fully dressed and her not. As nervous as he already was, and sure she was too, he didn’t want to cause any more awkwardness than necessary. Doubting she would be completely nude, he decided to undress down to his boxers. Now, he stood there fully exposed. She had downed the wine to help combat her nerves. He needed to do the same, but not with alcohol. He rushed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He grabbed one of the containers of blood he requested the refrigerator to be stocked with. He wondered what kind of kinky stuff the staff of the hotel thought he was into.
A large stack of money always seemed to stifle any questions. He engulfed the sweet nectar, even though it was only animal blood, it provided the needed sustenance. He grabbed another and downed it just as quickly. He didn’t want his thirst to rear its ugly head during his moment of passion. He rushed back into the bedroom and continued waiting.
He turned when he heard her giggle. He stared at the bathroom door, anxiously waiting for it to open. When he heard the click of the doorknob, his heart began to beat rapidly. The fresh supply of blood pumped through his body. When she finally stepped out, she was a vision in white and lace. She stood there in the doorway, the light from the bathroom illuminating her from behind.
“Wow,” he exclaimed. He had mixed feelings about only being in his underwear. Pleased they were in similar stages of undress, his lack of clothing however, made his reaction to her appearance more noticeable. He crossed his hands in front of himself to somewhat hide her effect on him.
She smiled, noticing both the initial reaction and the cover up. Playing on both and her confidence from earlier, she spun around, giving him a three sixty view. “You like?” she teased when facing him again. “You should thank Josie.”
“I will.” He grinned as he walked around the bed toward her, her beauty luring him in. He brushed her hair away from her shoulder, then ran his hand down the side of her body, from her neck to her waist. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her into him, all the while staring into her eyes. After flipping off the light in the bathroom, with his free hand, he lifted her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her to the bed. “Are you nervous?” He asked, laying her down gently to hover above her.
“A little,” she admitted. “You?”
“Yes,” he croaked. “Not sure I know what to do,” he added, grinning sheepishly.
“You seem to be doing fine so far. I'm sure you can figure it out,” she smiled reassuringly. “Besides, I had anatomy drilled into my brain in college. I understand what needs to go where if you get too lost,” she joked.
“I'll keep that in mind.” He smiled widely before pressing his lips to hers. This time, he kissed her with everything he had, like he had wanted since she had been united with him in front of his father and God. Pulling away to give her time to catch her breath, he admired her body beneath his.
Sensing his eyes on her, she opened her own. She could barely make out his face above her. “You can see perfectly, can't you?” She asked anxiously.
“Yes, sorry,” he apologized, hearing the dread in her voice, “I could turn on a light to make things fair if you would like,” he suggested.
“No. It's fine,” she frowned, shutting her useless eyes, knowing a light would make her feel more exposed. Witnessing the frown on her face, he smiled. She didn't know how beautiful she truly was. He returned to his admiration of her beauty. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her everywhere, touch her everywhere, explore every part of her body, she had readily given to him. However, he wasn't sure how long he could resist being inside her.
Beginning his exploration, he relished the sweet lavender scent of her hair as he licked and nibbled her ear. Her blood rushed below her delicate skin, pumped madly by her arousal. Not lingering long at the dangerous spot, he moved farther down. Pulling off her nightgown, he exposed her breasts. He traced one of her nipples with his index finger. After it hardened to his touch, he took it hungrily into his mouth.
“Ah,” she moaned, her passion increasing with each body part he teased with his tongue. She allowed him to repeat the process on the other; his hand squeezing her backside before pulling him away from her bosom. “I'm ready,” she whispered in his ear.
He obliged, shedding off both his and her undergarments. He then slid his hand underneath her thigh to gently part her legs. She allowed it, opening herself up to him, eager for him to enter her. Positioning his pelvis between her legs, he eased inside. She flinched as her virgin flesh stretched to accommodate his girth. He hesitated, “Am I hurting you?”
“No,” she lied. Her body ached for him, and she knew the discomfort was temporary. He opened his eyes. He observed the discomfort displayed on her face. She wrapped her legs around him as he tried to pull out. “Don't,” she pleaded.
When he remained still, she pressed her legs against him, forcing him to stay inside her. He obeyed. Her velvet flesh caressed his manhood as he dove deeper and deeper inside. Their bodies moved in rhythm and dual pleasure until the sickly sweet scent of life's essence assaulted his nostrils. He felt wetness on his skin. Pulling himself from her, he backpedaled off the bed, smashing into the dresser and destroying the swans he had taken such care to preserve.
“Oh God! NO!” He screamed when he saw Megan lying on their martial bed, blood pouring from her wounded body. He shook his head to remove the nightmare from his eyes but her lifeless eyes continued to stare back at him, accusing him. Covering his face with his hand, he tried to block out her dead eyes, just moments earlier, so full of life, love, and trust in him. “How could I have been so stupid?” He chastised himself. “I knew death was the only possible outcome of our union; Megan's death and the death of my reborn soul as her light is taken from me.”
Don't you mean taken by you.
Purred a devious voice from somewhere in the recesses of his mind.
You're the monster you always feared yourself to be. Look at what you've done, you coward.
“No!!” Dorian screamed at the voice in his mind. He pulled his hands from his eyes, but kept them shut. He yanked and pulled at his hair, hoping the pain would wake him from his nightmare.
It's not a nightmare. Now look.
“I won't! I can't!” Dorian swore, keeping his eyes shut tight.
Of course you can. Open your eyes and look at what you've done.
“I've seen all I want. I already have her blood on my skin, isn’t that enough?” Dorian pleaded.
No. You must look. Embrace you sin.
Dorian stood, gripping the dresser, shaking, berated by the voice in his mind. The voice of the monster he had tried so desperately not to become.
She lay there stunned by Dorian's quick departure, her naked body shivering without the warmth of his pressed against her. “Dorian!” Megan called out after hearing a crash off to the right.
He didn't answer.
Not being able to see anything in the dark of the room, she reached to her left and turned on the bedside lamp. She saw him backed against the dresser, hands covering his face, and mumbling to himself. Only a couple of words he muttered were discernible; death and blood frightened her to the core.
Glancing around the room, she searched for what could have triggered his breakdown. Noting was out of sorts about her surroundings besides the obvious, so she looked down at herself and saw the likely culprit: A trickle of blood
on her inner thigh. She scolded herself for not realizing she might bleed during their lovemaking and not warning him. Leaping from the bed, she dragged the blood spotted bedspread with her, wadded it up, and threw it in the bathroom. She hastily wiped the blood from her thigh and walked to him.
By the time she stood in front of him, his eyes were shut tight, but no longer covered by his hands; they were gripping the dresser with white knuckles. “Dorian,” she whispered sweetly.
No response.
“Dorian,” she spoke again, raising her voice a few decibels.
Still, he ignored her.
Reaching out her hand, she thought about touching his heaving chest to calm him. He looked to be dangerously on edge though, so she refrained, fearful the contact would frighten him. She resorted to only speaking to him calmly and sweetly, hoping to break through. “Dorian, where are you? Please come back to me. Everything is okay. I'm okay.” She continued pleading without any success as he continued to mumble, appearing to be arguing with himself. Seeing she was getting nowhere with her gentle approach, she changed course dramatically and slapped him across the face.
His eyes burst open on impact. She stood in front of him, naked, rubbing her hand. He grabbed her by the arms, sure she was a trick of the voice inside his mind. She felt real enough. Glancing briefly at the bed, now empty and spotless, he looked back to his bride. “Megan? You're okay, but...I thought,” he stammered, unable to say what he feared most.
She pulled her arms free from his grasp and placed both hands on his heaving chest. “Calm down. Everything is okay.”
“But I smelled your blood. I felt it on my skin.”
She looked down at his groin and saw the blood. Looking back up at him, she placed her hand under his chin to stop him from looking down. “You did, and I'm sorry. I should have warned you of that probability.”
“Probability?” He shook his head, and then attempted to cover his face in shame.
She stopped him by taking his hands into hers.
“I spilled your blood. I saw you lying on the bed lifeless.”
“I don't know why you saw that, but it's not true, as you can plainly see. I'm standing in front of you absolutely alive.” She squeezed his hands to prove her assessment and her solidarity.
“But,” he said as he bowed his head, eyes once again shut tight.
“Dorian, please look at me,” she begged. He obeyed reluctantly. The sadness long vanished from his brilliant blues eyes hovered on the edges threatening to take root again. “I'm fine. You didn't hurt me.” She released his hands and turned completely around to show her lack of bodily harm. “See, one hundred percent unharmed.”
“But,” he repeated, unable to rationalize what had happened.
“No more buts, mister. You have to let go of this fear that you're going to hurt me,” she commanded. “It's causing you to overreact and apparently have visions and arguments with lingering inner demons. Besides, I thought I got rid of all those pesky little buggers.” she added as she poked the middle of his forehead.
He had calmed now, his chest no longer heaving. He thought about her words 'inner demons' and the sinister voice goading him to accept what he had done. She was almost right. She had eliminated most of the demons plaguing his soul. The only one remaining, was the worst, the darkest and the most deeply seeded – his fear of her harm, especially by his own hands.
Even before he fell in love with her, this fear haunted him. It's why he followed her, from a safe distance, and why he fought his feelings for so long. Maybe now he
had finally conquered it with her help. He had felt blood on his skin; its enticing aroma tempting him, yet he had resisted. He had won this last battle, and maybe the war.
“I don't want this to be the last thing I remember about our wedding night. Do you?” She asked hopefully. He shook his head slightly.
Sensing his reluctance, she stared into his eyes, invitingly as she caressed his toned chest, trailing down his abdomen. “Let’s go back to bed,” she whispered seductively when her hand reached its target. She coaxed his groin to accept her invitation.
His body reacted promptly to her touch. He pulled her up and against his body. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her firmly, one hand in the middle of her back, the other cupping her backside. He kissed her passionately as he carried her to the bed. Laying her gently down, he looked deep into her soothing green eyes. There, inside those incredible orbits, resided not only an abundance of love, but acceptance. She accepted him even though he was flawed. Speaking straight to her soul, he whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you.” She repeated under his intense gaze. She saw only love reflected back in those memorizing blues. The sadness from earlier had vanished completely and she silently prayed it would stay gone forever. Should it return, she would battle it to the death if need be, to save the one she loved from its devastating clutches.
Upon hearing those words, he pressed his lips against hers again, repeating a similar process as before, this time, intent on following through to completion. Sliding an arm around her waist, he lifted her lower half slightly, pressing her into him. She parted her legs signaling her readiness. He slid inside. Her velvet flesh was just as inviting as before, maybe more so. She wrapped her legs around his waist, squeezing tightly as his body moved faster. “Ooh,” she moaned. The friction of him moving inside her sent sparks up her spine. Her hands found his back. She dug her fingers into him as he as he continued his back and forth motion.
He smiled inward, pleased with his first performance. Pausing from his deep kisses at her neck, he whispered in her ear, “You feel so good.”
“Uh, huh,” she sighed breathlessly, biting her bottom lip as her body constricted.
Feeling her tighten around him, he brought his mouth back to hers and kissed her, deeply, passionately, until their bodies reached dual bliss.
They made love over and over, their two bodies melting into one until sunlight crept under the bedroom door.
Removing himself from her a final time, he whispered, “Good morning,” as he brushed her hair from her face.
She smiled. “Good morning.”
“Not bad, huh?” He asked with a wry grin on his face.
“Not bad at all,” she answered, snuggling into his chest. “Hold me, Dorian, and never let me go.”
“Forever,” he promised, wrapping her in his arms.
They drifted to sleep holding one another, believing as long as they remained in a loving, protective embrace, they could overcome whatever life threw at them.
God peered down from Heaven, taking in the two lovers. Their perfectly matched souls resonated in unison as they slumbered, wrapped in each other arms. He admired their union as greatly as any of His miracles. Smiling, He spoke to the Heavens, “Indeed, it is very good.”
Works Cited
New International Version. Bible Gateway. Web. 1 Dec. 2015.
King James Version. Bible Gateway. Web. 1 Dec. 2015
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Thanks!
Amanda Long
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