"Are you absolutely sure about this m'love?" The man speaking was sitting on the edge of a four poster bed covered in red silk sheets. He was wearing a pair of leather pants that clung well to his toned thighs. His shirt was on the floor at his bare feet leaving his chest equally bare, a fact that Helena was acutely aware of. It was hard to keep her eyes from wandering his chest with his strong arms and nicely formed six pack. "It's very dangerous." He continued lifting his head to look at her meeting her bluish eyes with crimson stare. It had been over two hundred years since he was last in England but the land of his birth still hinted around the edges of his voice. Straight black hair coursed down around his shoulders and part of the way down his back, normally he wore it in a single braid but tonight it was freed.
"Yes. I trust you." Helena responded approaching the bed and then sinking to her knees before him. "I am yours my Master." She was wearing just a lace choker around her neck. Her expensive business suit was neatly folded in the corner. With its padded shoulders and loose cut trousers it was a small miracle anyone knew she was a woman when she wore it. Let alone that she was such a well formed woman. "If you wanted to harm me you could do it at any time. We both know I couldn't stop you." Helena said lowering herself down and kissing both of his feet before raising her head.
There was of course no disputing her that she was helpless at his feet. Even if he was mortal she was half his weight and untrained but he wasn't mortal. "It's not about if I could force you Helena. It's a matter of if I can force myself." His eyes were wandering to her neck again. He'd always found her neck to be beautiful with her narrowed shoulders sloping down to her breasts. As if she was willing it her arteries were pushing up through her skin begging him to lean closer for a bite.
"I've seen you feed without killing Master." Helena responded brushing her red curls back from her shoulders baring even more of her neck. "I want to do this for you. Please taste me." She canted her head, just slightly begging him to bite.
Helena rose gracefully to her feet and stepped forward straddling the man she called Master. She'd never been able to get used to how cold his body was, every time she brushed against him it sent a shock through her body. She loved that cold feeling, but she hated that he was remained so perfectly still, especially when she was close. He didn't need to breathe so his chest didn't rise and fall like a man's would, his heart didn't beat with a comfortable rhythm. Helena knew that he was dead but looking at him never sat that concept in her mind. He did a remarkable imitation of being a live. He walked, he spoke, he danced, he even loved.