"Oh god...Chris, anyone could just walk up and see us any second," Alejandra panted. Chris could feel her hot breath on his neck as she sat sidesaddle in his lap on the park bench. Her hips thrusted slightly against his hand, which was inside her pants, teasing her clit.
"Come on, Jandra, what are the chances? No one comes to Central Park in the dead of night. It's the most deserted part of the city right now."
"Deserted, you say?" He could hear the devious grin in her voice as she continued to ride his hand. "So there's no one around to hear your screams of terror, eh?" He froze as her fangs grazed his neck. "Oh, relax, you. I'm only kidding. You know I'm not the sadistic type."
"Thank God for that," he said, slipping his free hand under her blouse to knead her breast.
If she had told him right of the bat she was a vampire when they first started dating three months ago, he would have turned around and run for his life. After his first vampire girlfriend had made him an unwilling blood slave and subjected him to innumerable tortures and humiliations, he was wary of the species on the whole. By the time he found out about Jandra, though, he was already too crazy about her to consider leaving.
"Chris, you're driving me crazy," she moaned as he drew circles around her pert nipple with his fingertip. "Goddamn it, take off your clothes." Her hand came to the collar of his shirt and she started to undo his buttons one-handedly.
"Jandra, don't--"
"Nobody's here to see you naked," she reminded him.
"Except you with your night vision."
Not knowing what he was talking about and not exactly caring, she finished unbuttoning his shirt. By the feeble moonlight, she could make out ridges of scar tissue slashing across his chest and abdomen, evidence of deep, painful cuts. Jandra let out a shuddering breath, subconsciously grinding harder into his hand. "What are these?" she asked, tracing a deep scar line under his collarbone. "Chris, are you a self-injurer?" she playfully bantered, her glinting eyes fixing his with a curious smirk. "Is this going to be a problem? Am I going to come home one day to find you've hanged yourself from the ceiling fan?"
"They're...they're from my old mistress," he nervously confessed.