You were my Dark Lord

“You are so beautiful to me because you are mortal. Your frailty, your short years, your heart…even as you think it is breaking. And your neck… mmm, you have a lovely neck, my Dear.”
He draws closer, a sinister seductive look crossing his face.

“Take me, please,” I reply, offering my very skin. “Use me, use all of me until I light and glow like a fire…”

I am exposed, vulnerable, very naked. Taking me into his ivory arms, he bends slightly and prepares to fulfill my command. As his head tilts, a few loose strands fall into his gorgeously hungry, ominous eyes and across his face—it is like pulling a velvet curtain across a work of art. I then notice the striking contrast of his beautifully pallid skin and his swarthy, rippling locks. He is a preternatural god.

“Lestat, you are so beautiful…”

My breath catches in my throat as I see the stunning smile that parts his tantalizing, crimson lips.

“Yes, that may be so, but you, my darkly Delicate Flower, are all that is beautiful to me.” He softly kisses me, travels down my neck and…

—a pierce—

(I am broken)
(This may hurt slightly—you are still connected with your skin)
(I don’t care. I love you so much)

I feel the punctures, the sweet, alluring pain. He drinks me in, into his own immortal body. I close my eyes, sink into his steady embrace, and make my way slowly to the brink of death. My grip tightens on his shoulder and I cry out softly. Lestat pauses, looks up at me, and studies the pleasurable look upon my face. I am caught in the iron grip, seized by ecstasy. He smiles satisfyingly and returns to the pulsing, beating, breathing, waterfall of life waiting in his arms.

(Does it hurt?)
(Of course not…)

I fall limp, for there are only a few drops left. My head is a matrix of sounds, colors, shapes, and memories; spinning but I am completely at peace. The Blood runs through his body and knowing that I am inside him, I feel sheer bliss rush inside. It trickles sexily down his mouth, and I think that I have never seen so beautiful a sight. I try to open my mouth to tell him so, but my throat is filled with sawdust. He lifts a finger and places it gently over my lips.

(Shh my Love, do not speak)

He lays me down and falls to his knees next to me. He throws back his head and wipes my Life from his mouth with a swipe of his hand.

“Her Blood is like Liquid Fire!”

He turns to me and kisses me once again in the moonlight.

“It is time.”

My Siren takes me into his arms again. Using his enticing vampiric teeth, he slices his own wrist open, in one swift motion. Lestat tilts my head back and parts my waiting lips.

(Drink my Love. We can be together forever)
(I want desperately to go with you…)

I feel the few, precious drops of crimson immortality kiss my lips, flow down my throat, and light up my whole body like electricity. Before I sink into a convulsive darkness, I see the skin of Lestat’s wrist—it glows momentarily with a dark flash, then heals instantly.

I jolt violently, but feel no pain…

(Don’t worry, Little Flower— it is only your body that dies)

I am dead, I am alive. I am dragged through Hell and back to my Dark Lord; I am pushed off of the cliff of life into the waters of the dead and then led beyond both Life and Death.

He holds me tightly…

My eyes shoot open and glow red. He gazes into them and I see admiration and love—like I have done something right.

(Alright?)
(Oh, more than you will ever know…)
(I have slept so long without you, and now…)
(You are my Dark Lord)

We are in a bathtub filled with rose petals. My virginal fangs drip hungrily and my mouth invites Lestat in. Facing my Beloved, I run down his shapely chest. I bite down until I taste sweet copper and relish in the look of pure, orgasmic pleasure adorning his chiseled features. I smile to myself and kiss him with his own Essence still on my lips. A sigh of satisfaction escapes my mouth.

(Your Blood is the sexiest thing I have ever seen)

He massages my fangs with his tongue.

(We are Love,
We are the Damned,
We are the Forsaken)

Do not worry, it was only a dream.