Night in My Veins

When she stormed out of the crowded bar, the first thing he noticed was her hair. Thick and dark and cascading past her shoulders in waves. He could almost feel his fingers wrapped around it. Fisting. Pulling firmly. Just enough to barely hurt her.

The expanse of back between her hair and her black halter top was the color of warm honey. He could almost feel his fingers lightly tracing the indention of her spine.

The curve of her hips and her round bottom swelled under the salsa-style, flared black and red skirt that clung to her like liquid silk. He could almost feel his hands cupping her, griping the curves and pulling them closer to his own heat.

The smooth, bare, honey-colored legs with the ankle tattoo and the strappy red heels. He could almost feel them wrapped around him, the heels digging into his sides.

He was about to step closer, into the light of the street lamp, when she turned.

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She could feel his eyes on her as soon as she stepped out of the bar. Chest heaving, blood still humming in her veins from their argument, she stopped to catch her breath and felt him behind her. She could sense him in the shadows, lurking just beyond the light of the street lamp. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, doing naughty things to her with his eyes. Turning around, she peered into the darkness, willing him to make his presence known.

************

"Don't you know little girls shouldn't go out alone at night, pet? Something could come out of the dark and bite them, " he called, his tone nonchalant and dripping with meaning.

Now he could see the brief flicker of fear in her gold-flecked brown eyes, the throbbing of the pulse in her neck as her blood pumped faster, the swell of her ample breasts as her breathing quickened, the almost unnoticeable quiver in her full red lips before she spoke.

Despite her fear, there was a note of excitement and challenge in her voice as she replied, "Then I guess it's a good thing I'm not a little girl."

His blue eyes raked over her entire body, the leer in his voice apparent, "No...I can see you aren't."

His words, almost murmured in his guttural English accent, caused her to shiver. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him to come into the light, he cupped his hands, lighting a cigarette.

She took in his high, angular cheek bones, milky white, smooth skin, platinum hair spiked and mussed and her breath caught. But nothing prepared her for when he lifted his eyes--blue and deeper than any ocean--to her and stepped into the light. He was almost a foot taller than she. Muscular, yet lean. He exuded power from his shoulders, encased in a black leather duster, down to his black boot-clad feet. She could sense the danger in him, the passion, the tense anticipation of a panther primed to spring at it's prey.

Stupidly, she blurted out the first thing that popped into her head, "Wh...what do you want?"

God, he could practically smell her every emotion. The fear widening those golden eyes. The desire humming in the blood right beneath her skin. The anticipation coiling in her tensed muscles.

Taking a step forward and blowing out smoke he replied, "I think that should be quite obvious, luv."

She couldn't have replied if she'd wanted to. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, darkening to the color of sapphires. Her mouth went dry, her skin felt on fire.

He stalked slowly toward her, backing her into the back of the pick-up truck parked nearest to where she had been standing with the ease of a large, well-fed cat that knew it was about to drink it's fill of cream.

Just before he reached her, he tossed his cigarette to the ground. He towered above her for the barest of seconds and then his lips were on hers, insistent but restrained, forcing her mouth open and briefly flicking in his tongue before pulling back. Fisting his hands in her wavy hair, he pulled her head back to expose her throat, slicking the throbbing vein with his tongue, sucking the sensitive spot beneath her ear. He leaned over her, his hands supporting his weight on either side of her. Her hands had moved inside the leather duster to clutch at the material of the white undershirt he wore. His lips made a swift descent down the column of her throat, stopping to lick in the hollow before moving down to lightly bite the swelling tops of her breasts.

Before she fully comprehended what she was doing and before she could stop herself, she had the zipper of his black leather pants down. He tore her hands away with a sharp intake of breath, laying them instead on the cold marble of his chest. She rubbed her hands over the taut muscles of his stomach and chest to his corded back and it proved to be his undoing. In seconds he slid his hands up her thighs, flipping up her skirt and entering into her with such force that the parked truck was shoved backward on it's wheels. He plunged deep and she cried out, lurching forward in his arms, her nails raking down his back, her teeth lightly clamped on his earlobe, sucking.

In their frenzy to touch more skin, plunge harder, she pushed away from the truck, locking her legs around his waist as he stumbled back and to the side until he ran into a new black Cadillac. He swung around, pulling out of her and tossing her against the hood of the car, his hand in her hair. His lips seemed to be everywhere at once. When she moaned loudly against his mouth, he flipped her over until she was lying on her stomach across the hood of the car, his slick chest across her back, his shirt riding up his stomach with every thrust.

Harder and faster he pounded into her until her hands splayed in front of her on the hood of the car to keep her balance in case her legs buckled. He moved his hands up to twine with hers as he pressed kisses to the back and sides of her neck.

When she called out his name he flipped her over again to face him, re-entering her slowly as he looked into her eyes, not letting her break the gaze. He took in the sight of her glazed eyes, flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips before pressing another kiss to them and leaning towards her neck.

She could see the strain in the muscles of his neck and the sweat on his forehead as he held himself back, slowly rotating his hips until she thought she would melt to the ground.

In that final moment he gave one final thrust and sank his fangs into her neck. Her hands fisted in his hair, clutching his head to the throbbing puncture wound that was pouring her warm blood over his tongue and coating his lips. Their bodies convulsed as they found release, his sucking slowing until he was licking the punctures like a cat cleaning up it's last drops.

Belatedly she realized that the force of their orgasms had sent them to the ground of the parking lot and she let her head fall back against the curb, unable to speak. Still joined to her, he cradled her with his hands splayed across her back and placing light kisses on her lips, cheeks, neck and forehead. Cupping his face, she kissed him lazily, stroking his tongue and licking his fangs clean.

As the door to the bar swung open and two couples stumbled out, he scooped her up, her head resting on his shoulders and her arms around his neck, and carried her home.

**This story inspired by the song 'Night in My Veins' by The Pretenders**