Authors: Maya DeLeina
“Keep your eyes on me. Watch what your love does to me,” Steffan demanded, tucking his arm under her right leg and pushing her deeper into his thrust. Anya screamed out in pleasure as he buried himself to the hilt, leaving no inch of her core unnavigated, unexplored. She synchronized her movements to his slow, deep rhythm, tracing every vein and ridge with her walls. They rocked against each other, slowly and methodically like the ebb and flow of a gentle sea.
“I need your mouth on me. Take me. Suck!” Anya begged.
The voice that escaped her body didn’t sound like her own. An indescribable hunger boiled in her belly. It fluttered around low in her stomach, sending vibrating pulses to her groin, down to her toes and shooting electric currents to her heart.
Steffan’s eyes burned passionate red. “It’s time to seal our fate. My body needs your blood. I need to drain you…almost completely in order for you to complete the claim with your drink from my veins. Anya, don’t be scared.”
Steffan’s teeth descended from the veil of tissue that masked their existence.
“I trust you. Drink, Steffan,” Anya cried out.
Steffan ran his teeth up and down her breast, lightly grazing her flesh. He pulled back slightly, taking a deep breath in, and plunged his teeth deep into her right breast. Anya screamed at the stabbing pain of his entry. She wrapped her hands behind his head, entwining her fingers in his hair as her body contracted with his taking.
Steffan continued to thrust his cock slow and deep into her while he gulped down her liquid fire. Her body was draining quickly. She could see traces of the dark-red liquid slipping from his mouth, his intake barely keeping pace with the speed of her blood flow.
A bitter cold began to fill her, icing her veins.
Her mind blurred, yet she was still very aware of the mind-numbing stimulation all of Steffan’s entry points were doing to her. Her muscles gripped tightly around Steffan’s thick cock, milking him, begging for his hot release.
With every gulp he took, she sank deeper and deeper into bliss.
Anya’s breath quickened. Suddenly her toes curled, and a marked wetness drenched her pussy walls. “I’m coming! I’m coming!”
Steffan was deep in a trance from his feeding on Anya. Gasping, he released Anya. Blood dripped freely from his mouth. His teeth were stained a pinkish-red hue. “Anya? How do you feel?”
“Weak, but never so aroused in my life. How do you feel?”
“I’m anxious for you to drink from me.”
Steffan slid his cock out of her. He sat up and repositioned Anya’s body. He spread her legs wide and extended his body over her, quickly positioning himself to slide back into her, “I love you, Anya. When you’re ready to drink me, let me know,” he whispered.
“How will I know?”
“Trust me, you’ll know.”
Steffan’s hands wrapped around his thickness, guiding himself to Anya’s drenched opening. He slid in, her welcoming warmth tightly bound around him. He thrust hard, all the way into her and pumped rhythmically, his breath intensifying with every movement. An undeniable rumble deep in Anya’s belly, and a sudden, unquenched hunger enveloped her senses. Never before had she felt this famished or obsessed.
This must be it
.
“Steffan, I’m ready. I think it’s time.”
Steffan took a deep breath and watched Anya intently as she licked her lips.
A quick pierce of his razor-sharp nail penetrated the junction where his neck met his shoulder. He hovered over her, allowing his black blood to trickle into her mouth. Anya could smell the sweetness of the chocolate undertones spewing from the wound, the taste of the decadent darkness teasing her lips in a slow drip.
With great passion, she instinctively latched on to the wound and feasted on his sweet nectar. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer to her body. Steffan slipped his hand under her and cradled the back of her head as she drank.
Anya’s drinking intensified.
Steffan sat back on his heels, pulling Anya up from the mattress and positioning her to straddle him. He stroked deep, his hand on her buttocks, guiding her up and down his cock. He ground into her vigorously, over and over again. “Anya, I’m going to come.”
Anya released from the wound and drove her fingers into his mouth to capture his saliva. With a swipe of her fingers, the wound was closed. Steffan gazed up at Anya as her mouth dripped with his blood.
“Anya!” Steffan cried out. His body rippled with every wave of his release that shot deep into Anya, claiming her.
“Oh my god, I love you, Steffan.”
“I love you, Anya.”
Anya panted as the afterglow of their union beamed from her body. “When is it going—” Anya froze in midsentence.
“Anya?” Steffan laid Anya’s head down on the pillows.
Anya’s eyes darted back at Steffan in pure fear. She tried to speak, but nothing would release from her body. Her arms began to wail about frantically. Her hands were flailing, clawing at her throat and at his chest in a full-blown panic.
It burns! The pain! No. No. I’m scared. Steffan, please help me. I can’t do this,
Anya screamed in her mind.
Tears rolled down Steffan’s face. “I hear you, love. I hear you. I’m going to be right here. Don’t be scared. You will come back to me.”
Oh my god. I can’t do this. I can’t breathe. Everything hurts. I’m dying, Steffan! I’m dying
!
Anya reached for Steffan’s face and clutched it tightly.
“I know, love. I know. You are dying. Your body is shutting down. I’m so sorry. I wish I could take this pain from you,” Steffan muttered through his tears. He wept uncontrollably.
“Oh no. No! Steffan, you keep fading in and out…I can’t feel anything but pain. I can’t feel…me. Please help me. I’m scared. Please…I don’t want to die!
”
“What have I done?”
Steffan screamed at himself.
Suddenly, Anya quieted in her panic.
Something inside calmed her, allowing her to accept her fate and ready for her death. While the subject of death and dying, what happens to the body and mind in various stages of death and theories of the soul, was nothing new to her, she didn’t quite know what to expect. This was not a normal death. It was unnatural, going against all laws and rules of science and order. She was unprepared, and it tangled within her. In a flurry, she mentally recited a list of music compositions, trying to test the status of her brain functions. She recalled everything vividly, but the stinging realization settled within her. She was no longer in pain. Her receptors no longer ignited body movement.
Death was near.
She lay still. She needed clarity. Finding peace with what was about to take place was her single-minded thought. She fired the last pieces of energy to do a final assessment.
Was this what she truly wanted for herself?
“Anya, your death is killing me! I can’t believe how selfish I was to ask this of you! I’m sorry. But I cannot undo what has already been done,” Steffan cried.
Instantaneously, the split second of doubt was gone. The same emotional tide that took away drew her back in, closer to Steffan than ever before. She could see the strain on his face, full of anxiety, regret, and blame. She fixed on his gaze, the depth of emotion telling her what she had already known in her soul.
She found forever in his eyes. He was where she needed to be.
This is what I want. To be your mate, to be with you for an eternity,
Anya voiced in her mind, coming to a level of serenity with her decision.
Steffan held her hand in his and closed his eyes. He wept wildly.
She focused on his face, waiting for a sign of the end. Darkness or light, whatever it would be, she was going to leave behind her mortality, whispering his name.
Steffan Matthews, I love you.
* * * *
Steffan caught Anya’s last thought as he heard her body expelled its last breath. The shine in Anya’s eyes extinguished suddenly. They were no longer deep with emotion, but simply objects staring back at him, frozen in a panic-stricken state. Steffan sat in shock, examining her shell that just minutes ago, had been so full of life. Everything was silent. There was noise, no movement from Anya.
12:23 a.m.
Steffan laid his head on Anya’s chest. He wanted desperately to feel her wake and wrap her arms around him.
He ran his hands up and down her body.
The heat was escaping her body fast.
He was sick to his stomach. She was a healthy woman with so much life ahead of her, and he’d asked her to give it up for him.
Soon, Steffan, soon. She will return. We did everything correctly. She will return,
Steffan said to himself to calm his nerves.
12:28 a.m.
“Anya. It’s been five minutes, love. Please come back to me. Can you hear me?”
Steffan listened for a response. Nothing stirred.
12:32 a.m.
“Anya, wake up!”
Steffan shook Anya’s body. Her bronzed skin was washed in a pale-ash color.
“Wake up, damnit! Come back to me. It’s been too long. What is going on?”
Steffan panicked, realizing Anya had been dead for almost ten minutes and showed no signs of returning. Turnings typically took no more than five minutes. Some were recorded at nine minutes, but none was ever recorded past that.
12:34 a.m.
“Anya!”
Steffan shook her violently and frantically started rubbing her down, trying to get the blood she’d consumed from him moving in her body.
“Come back to me! Come back! What have I done, my sweet Anya?”
Steffan sat back on his heels and cried out. “Anya!”
Chapter Twenty
Tears devoured Steffan as he ran through all of the steps in his mind. He covered all of them. He was sure of it. Her body’s natural progression of the turning took place without incident.
Was her body not strong enough to come back? Did she not consume enough of my blood? Think, damnit, what did I miss?
Steffan wrestled with his thoughts just as Eilian came charging through the door. His appearance told the story of his haste to be at Steffan’s aide. He stood bare chested, the top of his jeans unbuttoned, his hair windswept.