My Blood on Your Lips, Your Money in My Bra

He gently brushed a stray blood-red curl away from my pale neck before letting his fangs slide into my flesh. I shuddered, a shaky breath escaping from between parted lips of the palest gray. My eyelids slipped closed to hide the lightly glowing amethyst there, my head falling back and to the side to further expose my throat.

This male was a new one. I'd never even met him before, but he'd heard the vampire who virtually owned my blood talking about me before, and he'd decided, like so many before, that he wanted a taste. I hoped he didn't end up getting caught and killed like the last guy who'd tasted me. This one was a good guy, a cutie, a respectful gentleman that knew how to treat a lady.

A delicate, fragile lady. Not a masochistic, tough-ass necromancer.

Sucked that I was the latter. I couldn't enjoy this experience as much as most would have. I'd gotten too used to rough guys who nearly mauled me while also trying to get in my pants. Gentleness just didn't do much for me.

Usually, anyway. Today, I was feeling particularly empty and unloved, so this almost...affectionate taking of my blood was absolutely wonderful.

"I'm not hurting you or anything, am I?" the male asked after carefully removing his fangs from my neck.

I opened my eyes and shook my head, finding myself almost transfixed by the concern his own bright blue eyes showed. "No. Compared to every other male who's done this, you're being very gentle. This doesn't hurt at all."

His head tilted thoughtfully to the right, a few strands of longish brown hair shifting atop his head. "How many others have you done this for?"

I laughed, the melodic, delicate sound completely clashing with my sexy, dangerous appearance. "Several. Let's just leave it at that."

He cocked an eyebrow. "It can't have been that many. You're only seventeen."

I shrugged, smiling slightly. "I'm a blood-whore, dear. It's not like I refuse to feed those who are willing to pay."

Both of the male's eyebrows rose. "Have that many people asked to taste you?"

My smile turned into a smirk. "Yes. Often in more ways than one."

"So, you're a blood-whore and a sex-whore?"

"Pretty much. Now, are you going to sate yourself, or should I leave now?"

His fangs were in my neck again a moment later, a bit more roughly than before. He was eager to get back to my addictive, sweet, candy-flavored blood. The addictiveness of my necromancer blood was part of why my main client had killed all the others. They wouldn't stop coming back for more. That, and he was just a really territorial bastard.

He was soon straddling me on the couch, hovering over me as he moved to bite another spot on my neck. I closed my eyes again and tangled my long, thin fingers in his dark, shaggy hair. His own snow-white fingers began to unzip the front of my black leather bustier, and my eyes snapped open. I had a hold of his wrist in an instant.

When he began to pull away from my neck, I used my free hand to pull his face back to my flesh. "I'm in the mood to be fed from. That's all. If you decide you want me again some other time, I'll probably more inclined to do more than just this."

He nodded and let his teeth dig back into my skin, gently sliding his arm out of my grasp. His hand ended up resting lightly on my stomach, completely innocent.

I moved my hands under his black, loose-fitting T-shirt, running them gently up his muscled back. He shivered at the feather-light touch of my skin against his, pulling away momentarily to remark, "Your hands are cold." He was then drinking from me again, taking deep, gentle pulls from the holes he'd made in my throat.

"All of me is cold, Derrick," I replied calmly, just barely remembering the guy's name. I let my eyes close once more as my hands moved out of his shirt to rest on his shoulders. "My blood is possibly the only thing that isn't." He said nothing to this, merely continuing to drink.

My hands began to slide downward, gliding over his ass and the denim pockets of his ripped blue jeans. I felt his wallet, but I continued right past it. He was an honest guy, after all. He wouldn't rip me off or something. My fingers went down his thighs slowly, stopping at the back of his knees, bent to either side of my long legs.

For the first time, I remembered that I was wearing a short black miniskirt. He could've had his hands up it five minutes ago, when we'd first sat down on this nice, black couch, yet he hadn't tried anything...He really was different from the guys I was used to.

He tilted his head sharply, and I hissed as his fangs ripped through my neck the slightest bit. He moved to pull back again, but I used my hand to hold him where he was.

"Feed," I ordered, my voice a low, seductive purr in his ear. My other hand moved from his leg to his hand, the one resting on my stomach, and I added, "The pain actually makes it a bit better."

"Mm," came his low grunt as he took hold of the hand touching his. Much to my surprise, he went back to being gentle instead of getting rougher. He really must have disliked hurting women...or maybe it was just because I was so much younger than him.

Wait...Was I younger than him? He looked eighteen, but appearances tended to be deceiving with vampires.

I quickly remembered that he'd told me he'd just been turned recently, so he probably was the age he looked. I smiled lightly, also remembering that he'd nervously admitted to never having done anything with a girl before. Nothing like this, anyway. It had been adorable. Now, adorable wasn't really my thing, but seriously. Who could resist a hot guy blushing and telling you he was nervous?

A few more minutes passed before he leaned back. He continued to straddle me, looking down at me with half-closed blue eyes. He was panting, too, blood slowly dripping down his chin from his reddened lips.

God, that was hot.

I leaned up and began lightly licking my blood away from his mouth, doing so with gentle laps, like a kitten drinking from a saucer of milk. Even as I licked, I watched him close his eyes from a mixture of sleepiness and satisfaction. A hand rested against the small of my back a few seconds later, under the silky wave that was my ass-length hair, the touch just as gentle and respectful as everything else this guy did.

Once my blood was gone from his parted lips, I placed a gentle kiss there, though I didn't linger for long. He didn't even have a chance to respond.

"Would you mind paying before you pass out? I don't want to have to get into your wallet like the thieving little whore some people think I am," I told him, smiling lightly when I noticed the effort it took him to open his eyes.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," he said tiredly. "It's just...your blood is so..." He trailed off and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "How much do I owe you?"

"I'll take fifty bucks."

"That's not nearly what you told me you'd charge me."

I shrugged. "I didn't do much for you."

He smiled at me sleepily. "You did a lot. Can't I give you closer to what you asked for?"

"Nope. I only want fifty. I can get more from Terrence later if I need it." His expression darkened at the name, but he handed me the money without a word, two twenties and a ten. "You know not to tell anyone about our meeting, right?" I asked, tucking the money away in my tight-fitting top. "He'll kill you if he finds out about this."

He nodded and got to his feet, allowing me to stand as well. "Of course. I may be a bit naive, but I'm not stupid."

"I know." I leaned up and gave the six-foot-three male another quick, gentle kiss, then headed for the door across the room, the three-inch stiletto heels of my black boots clicking loudly against the floor's black tile. I loved these boots. They were leather, knee-high, decorated with buckles all the way up, and sexy as hell. Absolutely awesome, in my opinion. "Later, Derrick. You have my number if you want me again." And with that, I left the dark apartment.

As I walked down the hall to the stairs, I let my appearance shift from that of a drop dead gorgeous, almost silver-skinned necromancer to that of a normal human. I was still a bit pale in this form, but my human flesh didn't have the same gray tint that a necromancer's skin did. In either form, I was nearly six feet tall with long legs, a well-toned, slender body, and curves to kill for, but I preferred my true form to this artificial human one. I didn't like having normal, waist-length brown hair or common gray eyes. I was a necromancer, damn it. I wanted to be unique like one.

I was soon wandering out into a cool September night, immediately feeling a pair of eyes on me. The feeling was one I knew well, and one that I had also learned to disregard most of the time. It was almost always the same person...

"Terrence will kill him when he finds out about this," an impassive male voice said from behind me as I continued on my way down the sidewalk.

"If he finds out, you mean," I corrected the vampire coolly. "If no one tells him, he'll never find out."

"The male will keep coming back." I felt the man's large, almost foreboding presence move to my side. "They always do."

"So, I'll just have to make sure he doesn't come back at the wrong times."

"You're going to get another innocent man killed, Elyria."

My pace didn't slow as I looked at the male, a chillingly empty smile on my face. He towered over me at a height of almost six-foot-seven, yet even he knew to fear that slight curve of my lips, shown by the way his steps faltered a bit before picking back up again. "No, Eli. This will be the first innocent one."

His fear melted away to allow a frown, his pale green eyes filling with an odd melancholy. "That only makes it worse."

"No. Nothing can make it worse," I said simply as I looked straight ahead once more, no longer wearing that strange smile.

He was silent for a moment, easily matching my pace and continuing to walk along beside me. Then, softly, he asked, "What if I drank from you?" I looked over at him, confused. "What if I was the one Terrence wanted to kill?" His green eyes met mine solemnly, the unsure frown on his face almost appearing childish. "What then? Would it be worse?"

I stopped walking, and he did the same, turning to fully face me as I turned to fully face him. "Eli..." I reached up, brushing his long, copper-colored bangs out of the way of his pretty eyes. The rest of his hair was short, but soft to the touch, which I discovered as I let my hand move gently over it. Finally, as my ice-cold fingers slowly slid down a pale cheek, I said softly, "I would kill you myself before I let you taste my blood." He recoiled, a hurt look appearing on that pretty, boyish face, the features of which didn't match his tall, lightly-muscled body at all. I sighed, shaking my head as he stepped back. "I don't mean it like that. I just mean that you're around him too much. He would smell my blood on your breath at some point, and he would kill you in the most brutal way possible for betraying him." His expression eased into one of slight suspicion, and I continued. "You're the closest thing I have to a friend, Eli. If you ever do die, I want your death to be as quick and painless as possible. I would give you that. Terrence would not."

He nodded slowly, his face becoming a stoic mask once more. "All right. I understand." I gave him another small smile, this one full of a friendly warmth I rarely showed to vampires, then turned to begin walking again, but he grabbed my wrist before I could go anywhere. "But...if we ever are in a situation where it looks like one or both of us might die..." He stopped, looking down for a moment before managing to make himself look me in the eye again. "I want to taste you. At least promise that you'll let me do that."

I merely gazed at him for a few seconds, somewhat puzzled by his request, but then, I just nodded. "All right. I promise."

He nodded, more to himself than to me, and released my wrist. I rubbed it gently and studied it for a moment, swearing it was going to bruise. He had a very, very firm grip, often unintentionally grasping things, especially me, so hard he nearly broke them. He'd been a vampire for over two years now, but he couldn't seem to fully master the inhuman strength that came with being transformed.

I laughed lightly to myself. "You should really-" I stopped when I looked up and found that he was already gone. I smiled to myself and looked back down at my arm, shaking my head slowly. "Jerk," I mumbled jokingly, knowing by the sensation of being watched that he was still near enough to hear me.

I glanced around the deserted street one more time before beginning to walk again, this time moving more quickly than I'd been walking before. It was almost two in the morning, and I really needed to get some sleep before going to school tomorrow.