Enter to win R. C. Graham’s book On the Far Side of Darkness.
On The Far Side of Darkness is an anthology of stories about Georges Belleveau, a vampire since The Terror and his human lover, Diane Patterson. It is now available for pre-order from Smashwords and will be released on Halloween. The price will be $0.99 until that day. Here is an excerpt to whet your appetite. It’s adults only and very hot.
It’s three in the morning and I am in Diane’s bed.
My hands stroke her auburn hair and my lips caress the fair satin skin of her forehead. She shivers in response.
I need to use little of my power with her these days. She’s become accustomed to and desirous for my touch. But for her pleasure, I push some fire into her, make the shimmering heat she feels rise.
I pause to make sure my mask is in place. Diane can never know what I am. The consequences would be too grievous for me to bear. For a moment my body stiffens at the vision my imagination creates of that moment, of Diane in terror of what I am.
“Georges?” my love asks, puzzled at my sudden hesitation.
“Nothing, cher. Once again I’m awed by how I feel.” Which is both true and very frightening.
My mouth moves down, covers hers, works at her hungrily. She answers with the same passion. Her hands rove, teasing my skin. As always, to my amazement, I react. Shimmering emotion fills me. This isn’t my usual hunt. I’ve come to care for her.
My arms go around her back and I hug her close. Breaking my face away from hers I look into her eyes. “Sweet Diane,” I exhale.
Her eyes glitter at me, lust providing the sharp sparkles and warmth a deep glow. “Georges,” she whispers back.
My face lowers to her neck. For a moment, my hunger screams at me to feed, drain her dry, leave a cold corpse lying here to spread fear in the world. I easily ignore it. Monster I may be but not all the time, and especially not now.
Instead my tongue teases with soft, quick licks. I use my power to push Diane’s passion a little higher. She sucks in a sharp breath and a tremor runs through her. Her fingernails dig softly into my arm and back.
I chuckle against her throat and move on. Playing, I lave her shoulders and chest, sweep up her small breast and take a nipple in my mouth. It pops into stiffness and I feel her aureola crinkle under my tongue. With my canines I lightly nip the tender nub. A slight hint of the ecstasy feeding creates washes into her. Diane gurgles, grabs my dark hair and pulls me close. I suck hard at her. The sound of her legs running over the sheets as she spreads herself comes to me.
I play over to her other breast and gambol there for long moments. Her body begins a steady tremble as I do.
With mischievous kisses I move down to her tummy. My power propels her emotions, raising her joy higher still. As I come to her hips I run the edges of my teeth over the skin above her joints. Her muscles jerk, then jerk again. “Georges” she whimpers, “no more teasing, please.”
“D’accord,” I tell her. I drape her left leg over my shoulder so that her labia sit in front of me, quivering and lustrous. The sweet, rich aroma of her arousal stuffs my nose.
My tongue runs out and licks up her soaking outer lips. Diane hisses and her body lurches as I do. I run around and around her, sopping up her taste. The hiss becomes a moan and her movements rhythmic. More lusciously flavored fluids dribble from her to be swallowed by me.
Gently, I work a finger inside, pushing slowly. I run in and out with a steady beat. Her hips match my cadence and her inner muscles squeeze my digit. Her moan becomes syncopated with sharp gasps. Diane’s heated odor grows more intense.
I add a second finger and my pumps increase in speed. Diane’s moan rises in volume, nears a wail. “Ah!” she huffs, “God! Please!” Her skin heats, I can feel its glow on my own.
My fingers rotate in her, press hard against the spongy spot on the ceiling of her channel. Her body stiffens and she gurgles, moments away from ecstasy.
I cover her stiff clit with my mouth. A little suction and I pull the little bud in, lap at it softly and rapidly. Diane falls away from the world as I do.
A loud stutter rushes from her lungs. Her hips blur back and forth, driving my fingers in and out. She clamps on them, her joy demanding I stay inside her. Her skin colors and sweat runs over her.
Diane’s climax fades but doesn’t draw back far. My thumb replaces my tongue and tickles softly. She sounds an “Oh!”, pauses to gasp, another “Oh!” and she’s gone again. She keens her pleasure and shivers with an ague of ecstasy.
While she’s distracted, I place my mouth on her left thigh, drop my fangs and puncture her femoral artery.
This is my climax. The rich taste of her blood runs into my mouth and my awareness is almost lost under it. The rush of life fills me with an abandoned glee. Nothing tasted as delicious when I was alive.
Adding even more to it is the fact that I care deeply for this woman, and she cares for me. It adds an exponent of elation I’ve not tasted in far too long.
That joy radiates out from me and into Diane. It slams into her orgasm, pumps it up into a bright flame that blanks out her mind. She grows stiff as a board. Every few seconds she twitches and a tiny click sounds from her throat. I’ve taken her far from the physical world.
I pull my mouth from her with a quiet hiss. I’ve had enough. What I am wants it all but I’m full. I don’t feed until death. I’m forced to drink, not to kill. Pain shimmers through me as I recall the times I did kill. I don’t like being a monster.
Diane relaxes, her bliss releasing her. Before she can notice, I lick my punctures and they vanish as if they never existed.
I move myself next to her. Leaning in, I kiss her cheek, swipe at the salt liquid slicked there. Pulling back, I watch her, one hand gently petting her stomach, calling her back to reality. Her face is blank and her chest heaves.
Again I feel amazement that I’m here with her close, in more ways than one. I don’t want to but I wallow in the sensation. Once more, I almost feel like a man again.
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