Worlds Apart

I couldn't sleep. I wanted to, but I forced myself not to. If I allowed myself to drift off, I would be accepting this change of fate.

Twenty-four hours ago, I had just wanted to support my best friend. To attend a party. To be the social butterfly that I was.

Now, I wasn't sure if I wanted to strangle Cristal or beg for her help. She wasn't really to blame. She couldn't have possibly known the truth about Vincente. Could anyone have?

As if he knew I was thinking about him, Vincente kissed the back of my shoulder. His lips were warm and moist as he moved over my skin. His teeth nipped. His tongue soothed the sharp pain.

I bit my lip, stifling the moan that was rushing up my throat. The man drove me crazy. And that's exactly what I must be. Crazy. Delirious. Out of my mind.

How else would anyone describe a person who didn't run away screaming after having just discovered that the guy she had slept with had a cock with a serpent's head?

"Are you asleep, my love?"

Vincente's warm, velvety-smooth voice brushed my cheek. His fingers played with my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear. Then they lightly stroked along my jawline.

My hormones told me to roll onto my back and let him devour me with those lips. But that's exactly what I was afraid he would do if I gave in. So instead, being the prey, I played dead.

It took a lot of effort to breath evenly. My mother had told me she could always tell when I faked sleeping—apparently I had done it a lot as a child. I had no doubt that Vincente had better perception than she did. But maybe could I fool him.

I moaned softly—as if dreaming—and rolled onto my stomach instead. When my face buried against the pillow, I sighed, not entirely faking it. The bed was comfortable, and I was exhausted.

"My sweet Danae." Vincente trailed his fingers along the back of my neck where he gathered my long, black hair and swept it over my opposite shoulder. "You are so beautiful."

I shivered involuntarily but resisted another moan. Hoped he was buying my act.

He kissed my neck at the base of my skull. His nose buried in my hair, and I heard and felt him inhale deeply. Kisses trailed down my spine until he reached my shoulderblade. There, his tongue traced the curve of the jutting bone. As he neared my side, his fingers took over again.

As much as I did not want to admit it, I anticipated where he would touch me next. I bit the pillow to silence my whimper when his fingertips brushed the edge of my breast, dipping ever so slightly to graze my nipple before they continued down my side.

His hand cupped my hip then, and he began a slow trip down my spine with his tongue.

I clenched my eyes shut and held my breath. The heat and moisture from his mouth against my skin made my own heat and moisture build up below. I refrained from squeezing my legs to quench the desire. I tried to remember what exactly he was—well, what I could fathom at least—and not focus on the delectable feeling of him touching me.

Behind my eyes, I could see the diamond-shaped head with the two ruby-red eyes that had stared back at me only an hour earlier right before he slid inside me for the second time. Before he brought me to the second biggest orgasm of my life. Imagining how it had latched onto my cervix with those two fangs, tugging and pushing inside me as Vincente stroked his cock in and out of my pussy. How that forked tongue probably pushed his seed deeper inside of my womb as he came.

A shudder passed through me as I remembered the story he had told me while we drank a strange and intoxicating wine. How in his culture, marriages were arranged and were solely for reproduction. How cats and snakes had sex in what would be considered barbaric ways. How he had never experienced the enjoyment of human sex himself.

The vision in my head was so strong now that I cried out when I felt something pressing between my legs. It took me a second to realize it was his fingers, not his snake-headed cock. In my daze of concentration, my body had relaxed and he had taken advantage of the situation.

I finally whimpered aloud, clutching at the pillow. My hips raised involuntarily, my legs spreading wider. His large hand moved forward, and I could feel it sliding against the insides of both thighs. I managed to get a breath before his fingers grazed over my clit and I cried out again.

"That's a good girl," Vincente purred in my ear.

All previous visions faded away as he began to stroke lightly, slowly. All around my clit but not touching it again. Back and forth along my now swollen labia, coating it with my own juices. I desperately wanted him to touch my clit again— or even more so, enter me. But I held my tongue.

For the longest time, he teased. Aroused. Tormented.

All I could was gasp for breath. Whimper. Writhe.

The pungent smell of my desire filled the air, mixed with the fading scent of vanilla candles and manly musk.

"Please..." I mumbled when I could take no more.

"Please what, Danae?" He shifted, and I felt his mouth nuzzling at my left breast, his tongue licking along the side of it.

"Oh, God, please!" I squirmed, trying to move his hand to where I needed it most.

"This?"

I cried out when he brushed against my clit. Once. Twice. Three times. "More!"

"Mmm." His teeth nipped at the underside of my breast. Suddenly, he slid two thick fingers deep inside me, the heel of his hand bumping against my ass.

"Vincente!" I convulsed, sensing the edge right there in front of me.

"Let it go, my love." His fingers spread apart inside me, stroking now, hard and fast. He kissed the back of my left shoulder, nipping and licking again.

I was panting, struggling to swallow, trying to climb to that precipice. Through my haze, I felt him sit up, his hip touching mine. His cock lay heavy and throbbing against the back of my thigh. Then I felt the heat of him as he leaned over me.

When he nipped at my lower back, I came hard. I cried out as lights flashed behind my eyes and something inside of me came undone. I was left shaking. Moaning. Clutching blindly at whatever was in reach. And through it all, he continued stroking.

I was floating back down to earth when he rolled me onto my back and took my left breast in his mouth. Another orgasm crashed through me as his tongue rasped against my nipple, and at the same time, he plunged into me.

I forgot all about being scared of him—of his cock—for he began to fuck me like a normal, human man. All I could do was grip at his arms. His hands slid along the outsides of my thighs, pulling my knees up to frame his hips. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on for dear life.

"Is this what you wanted, Danae?" His voice was hot against my ear, his tongue darting out to taste my neck.

I mumbled something through my cries. My head rolled back and forth on the pillow as his thick cock drove in and out of me, stretching me open, rubbing against every sensitive spot. My breasts were heavy—aching—and I cried out when he bit down on my nipple, sucking it into his mouth, the flat of his tongue easing the sharp pain.

It felt like I was on a never-ending rollercoaster of pleasure. Each time I headed down into the valley, Vincente stoked the fires within me and brought me back up the next hill. I lost count of how many times I came. All I could hear in my head were my own moans and cries.

At some point, I began crying. I couldn't take any more. My body was numb and raw. I couldn't even hold onto Vincente and surrendered to just lying limply beneath him.

His movements gradually slowed until they ceased altogether. He did not pull out, but I wasn't complaining. His cock was hard, producing a comforting fullness within me. I didn't even question how he could still be fully aroused after what must have been an hour of non-stop sex. The man was insatiable. And my body thanked him for it.

###

I don't know how long I was out, but it had been a dreamless sleep. I felt rested, although quite sore. I sighed into the pillow beneath my cheek. I was in a conundrum.

"I thought you might be hungry," Vincente's said from somewhere behind me.

I turned over and propped myself up on one elbow. He stood in the doorway to the bedroom, his tuxedo pants back on and zipped up, but the belt was undone. His white dress-shirt hung open, the sleeves rolled up revealing the tanned and well-developed muscles of a man who could be a model for a living. And an underwear one at that. In his hands, he held a tray laden with fruits and pastries from what I could tell.

I remembered borrowing said-shirt last night to make a trip to the restroom. It was shortly after that trip that he had found me scrounging around in his meager kitchenette for something to eat. A discovery that had led us back to this same bed...and a revelation of what I was really dealing with.

"Thank you, I am famished." I sat up, letting the sheet drop to my waist. I heard his sharp intake of breath and my cheeks grew warm. I felt so shy, so childish. Yet, it pleased me that my naked body elicited such reactions from him.

"Danae." His voice was a husky whisper, and his eyes were not on my face.

"Do you want me to get up? Maybe come to the table?" I was having my own problems with breathing suddenly. After all of our lovemaking, I was rearing to go again, just by looking at him.

He seemed to be breathing normal, but I saw him shudder. And then he nodded. "It may be best. Otherwise I may ravish you again, and you need nourishment."

I couldn't help laughing. He was moved by my nakedness, yet he still retained his air of formality. "I don't suppose you have something I could wear besides this sheet? All I have is my cocktail dress."

His blue eyes lit up when he smiled. He set the tray on a table just inside the doorway. And then he proceeded to remove the shirt off his back. "It suited you well last evening. It will make do until we can find other arrangements."

I could only nod, the vision of his naked upper torso making my heart thump loudly in my head. As he approached, I felt my mouth watering. I rose up on my knees and he helped me put the shirt on. He then proceeded to button it up.

"Vincente," I moaned as his fingers brushed against my thighs, my stomach, and then my breasts.

When he reached the last two buttons, he left them undone, gathering the material in his hands and pulling me to him. Before our mouths met, he moaned in return. "Danae, oh sweet Danae."

His lips were hot as they crushed against mine, his tongue pressing for entry. I did not deny him, covering his hands with mine. I would have been happy if he had pushed me back on the bed and taken me again right there. But he had better restraint than I.

"You must eat," he said as he pulled away, taking my hand in his and helping me to my feet.

I stumbled after him, pausing only as he retrieved the tray again. Down the hallway and past the kitchenette, there was a small room with a wall of frosted windows. The morning sun was subdued but still warmed the room. He set the tray on the table beneath the windows and took my hand, leading me to one of the two chairs.

"Would you like something drink?" He still held onto my hand, his touch warm and comforting.

"Of course. Please." I did not have to tell him what I would prefer. I knew that he knew. I sunk down onto the hard seat, the wood smooth against the back of my bare thighs as the shirt rode up.

When he disappeared, I stared at the sun-kissed windows for a moment and then eyed the succulent food displayed before me. There were plump purple grapes and red strawberries, their colors vibrant and dotted with water droplets from being freshly washed. The pastries oozed with white cheese. My stomach rumbled from the sweet smell.

"For you." Vincente set a glass of red liquid in front of me, and I licked my lips. He sat opposite me, his hand wrapped around his own glass. He gestured to the tray. "Please."

I was tempted to shovel as much as I could into my mouth like a starving child, but my manners got the better of me. Instead, I counted to ten in my head and picked up a strawberry. I rested the heel of one barefoot on the rail of the chair, propping the other up on the seat in front of me.

Slowly, I lifted the tip of the berry to my mouth and licked at it. My eyes rose to meet Vincente's, and I gasped softly as I saw the smoldering look in his own eyes. His black hair was dishelved, framing his chiseled face. Just-had-sex hair was a good look on him.

I bit into the piece of fruit, refraining from moaning. I had never had such a juicy strawberry before. My tongue darted out to catch the juice before it dribbled down my chin. I heard Vincente's audible moan but did not react myself.

I finished off the berry with two more bites and then reached for my glass. I did moan then, relishing the thick but smooth liquid. He had told me it wasn't wine, but I couldn't describe it as anything but. Although, while wine normally dried out my mouth, I couldn't get enough of whatever this concoction was. It was as if my body craved it. Needed it.

He watched, occasionally sipping from his own glass as I ate half of the fruit.

I was relieved when he popped a couple of grapes into his mouth, knowing that at least the man ate like a human. Then I imagined his tongue pressing the fruit against the top of his mouth until it gushed juice. I groaned softly at the erotic image and shifted in my seat. It wasn't until I was pulling apart a pastry, pressing small clumps between my lips, before he spoke again.

"I realize that you might be in a state of shock, my love." He lifted his glass to his lips once again, his dark eyes watching me over the rim as he sipped. "I do not want you to be afraid."

I gulped then, lowering my eyes to my hands. I saw them shaking. I did not want to think. I was happy living in denial for the past thirty minutes or so. I was at war with accepting whatever was happening to me and wanting to run screaming out of this house.

When I lifted my gaze again, it wasn't to meet his. Instead, I looked out into the main room through the wide doorway. From where I sat, I could see the edge of the double doors leading out of his private quarters on the third floor. I could see the black keypad on the wall adjacent to it. My gut clenched, knowing that I was stuck.

While I didn't think I was being held prisoner, I couldn't very easily walk out the door, either. Without him saying it, I could feel the question—the proposal—floating in the silence between us.

Would I stay with him? Would I allow him to explain just what had happened last night?

I finished my wine but did not put the glass down. I cupped it in both hands, holding the rim between my lip, sucking on it absentmindedly.

I did not believe in vampires and werewolves and those sort of fantastical things. But just because I did not believe in them did not mean that they didn't exist. I had seen Vincente's cock. I had seen the serpent's head. I had felt it inside me. I may not believe it, but it was still true.

"Danae?" His voice was soft. Patient.

I slowly turned back to him and blinked away fresh tears. I let out a shuddering breath and then stood on wobbly legs. When he looked up at me, his eyes questioning, I held out my hand. He took it, squeezed it, and followed me.

As we walked down the hallway back to the bedroom, I prayed that I was making the right choice. Everything balanced on my decision to go forward with this. I was mush inside, but on the outside, I was trying so hard to stay calm...and upright. To reassure myself that I wouldn't want someone like Vincente against me. That he was probably right: I was safe with him.

At the doorway, I paused, my eyes darting from the mess of blankets and sheets on the bed to the arrangement of burnt out candles. I sighed heavily, and my breath shook again on the intake. Vincente turned me back toward him.

"Why don't you use the lavatory again, my love? Collect yourself. I will come get you."

I could only nod. He placed a kiss on my forehead, and I wandered down the hall again in a daze. I had used the restroom twice in the last twenty-four hours. It wasn't hard to find, but it seemed to take forever before I got there.

I used the facilities and then stood in front of the sink with the faucet on. My reflection in the gilded mirror looked nothing like me. I felt a mess, but she looked beautiful with rosy cheeks. Dark hair tousled and cascading over the shoulders of a white button-up shirt with the collar opened to reveal the swell of cleavage. Lips swollen from too much kissing. Eyes bright wide with excitement but also glossy with desire.

Who was that woman?

I was still standing there when I heard a knock on the door and it opened slowly. In the mirror, I watched Vincente step into the room and smile at me. I smiled back, and it didn't feel forced. I shut off the water and turned around.

"Danae?" He held out his hand to me, and I met him halfway across the floor.

Somehow I found my voice and said, "I'm good."

"Good." He lifted my hand to his lips where he brushed a kiss across my knuckles.

My knees buckled, which I thought was a good sign. The man still turned me on.

He led the way back toward the bedroom. When we paused in the doorway this time, I let out a soft gasp. While I had been a nervous ninny in the bathroom, he had changed the sheets—red silk now—and the candles—sandalwood if my sense of smell was correct.

"Come, my love." He pressed his hand to the small of my back and urged me to the side of the bed. There, he gently took my arm and turned me to face him. I barely took a breath before he lowered his mouth to capture mine.

I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the feeling of his lips pressing against mine, his tongue darting out to taste me. I gripped his upper arms for support, but he moved my hands up to his shoulders so he could wrap himself around me, pulling me closer. My fingers continued the ascent on their own volition, wanting to weave through his hair.

He moaned in response and helped me sit and then lie down. My hips arched up involuntarily, and he chuckled. "I know, Danae. I know."

I whimpered, licking at my lips, aching for more of his kisses. I started to speak but found it difficult. I cleared my throat and tried again. "The handcuffs. Do you have them handy?"

He raised one dark eyebrow, the corner of his mouth rising as well. "Of course."

I locked my eyes on him. "I want you to secure me first. Then I want you to explain. Everything. I want to understand..."

He studied me for a moment and then nodded. "As you wish." He opened a drawer on the bedside table and removed the fur-lined cuffs that I had found myself bound with last night after our initial rendezvous.

I took a deep breath and then raised my arms above my head, resting them on the pillow so they were comfortable.

He reached above me. I heard the soft rattle of the chains that were secured to hooks in the headboard. Silently, he cuffed each wrist, snapping a tiny lock through the narrow chain and a metal loop on the cuff. When he was finished, he laced his fingers through mine, squeezing my hands lightly as he leaned down to kiss me.

And then he sat back, his right hip touching my left. He laid his left hand in his lap. His right rested casually on my thigh.

"Where shall I begin?"

I gulped. "Um, don't touch me. Please."

His eyes darkened with a mixture of concern and confusion. "Danae?"

"I can't think when you're touching me, and I need every cell in my brain functioning right now." I slowly blew out my breath, clenching and flexing my fingers, mentally preparing myself.

"Understood." His eyes glimmered as a smile teased at the corners of his mouth. And what a delicious mouth it was. I wanted to run my tongue all over it. He removed his hand, waiting for my lead.