Chapter 2 - Torn
*After a general demand and the many questions it brought, I decided to continue the story Inside his World. I hope you enjoy this second installment. I do appreciate your votes and value all the comments. Thank you.*
Indulging in her state of profound bewilderment, she was awake but did not dare to open her eyes. She knew that as soon as she would, the spell would be broken and she wanted to keep all the impending questions that threatened to shatter the sweetness of her reminiscence at bay for a little while longer. Not even in her wildest fantasies could she have imagined a night so beyond believable. Strange and beautiful. That is how she saw her encounter with Michael Belmont, a man who turned out to be even more puzzling than his reputation led him to be.
In the safe oblivion behind her closed eyelids, she could still feel him; his lips, his touch, the heat of his body against hers and his teeth, piercing the skin on her neck. She licked her upper lip as she recalled the sweetness of his blood on her tongue, wishing she could taste it once more. There was something enthralling in the way he had watched her, drinking her in as if she was the essence without which he could not live. Just thinking about it made her head spin and her pulse quicken, in a way she had never experienced before. All of the sudden, she sucked in her breath and winced. A vision of his face flashed inside her mind so clearly, that it was as if he stood right in front of her.
Those eyes!
There was no way for her to escape from the incandescence of his stare and from the gripping torment that suddenly stirred deep inside her. Alarmed by such an overwhelming sensation, she quickly opened her eyes and pressed her hands against her quivering stomach.
Allowing herself to slowly come back to reality, she lay in the middle the large four poster bed, with the bronze brocade quilt and the cream coloured sheets crumpled under her. Rays of sun penetrated the dark burgundy room through the stained glass window, casting multicolored patterns over the soft curves of her naked body. The stunning artwork on the window caught her eye. Under a blooming wisteria tree, a man and a woman of stunning beauty, stood embracing each other with their bodies intertwined in a graceful, snake-like manner. There was something deeply soothing in that scene; as if one completed the other and only when united they formed a whole. For a moment, before her reasoning annihilated such a thought, it felt as if up until her encounter with that arcane man, she had been incomplete. As if he had been the missing piece of the puzzle that was her life. Of course as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she laughed out loud at the silliness of it.
She sat up and looked around her, noticing her dress and lingerie carelessly scattered on the floor. Instantly, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she recalled the way she had undressed for him. Did she really do that? Resting her palm against her forehead, she dropped back on the bed and rolled onto her side. Staring at the empty space beside her, she wondered of how it would have been if she got to wake up with him by her side.
Remembering the sensation of his lips on her neck as he sucked her blood; she touched her skin where he had bit her and felt a slightly tender spot. That was the part of her night that made the least sense to her. The drinking of one's blood belonged to a fantasy fiction. Vampires did not exist, but then again, he did say that he was not a vampire but of some ancient and secret race. She gasped at the recollection of the ritual of their blood exchange in which she had willingly participated.
"By us exchanging our blood, you are now part of it too. I made you mine and you made me yours." his words resonated in her mind.
Reality did come down crushing in on her with a devastating effect on her reverie, just as she knew that it would.
What did she get herself into? Did she seriously agree to something so absurd? Finally, all the inevitable questions spiralled down on her, though she found no answer to any of them. The only logical explanation that she came up with was that Belmont Manor could possibly be home to some bizarre cult. She was angry with herself for letting her guard down for one night and for falling into the trap set by that man who used his charms to ensnare her. Did he think she was naΓ―ve enough to actually believe that he was of some supernatural descent? Quickly, she pushed the invading memory of her licking his blood-stained lips to the back of her mind. After all, she was an intelligent and rational woman.
Without even thinking, she moved her head to the other pillow where he had laid as he held her to him with his fingers running through her hair and caressing the skin on her back until she fell asleep. Her unbridled emotions at war with her reasons triumphed as soon as she inhaled his scent that still lingered behind on the silky smooth material. Musky and sensuous, it made her tremble with desire at the recollection of the passion she had shared with that man. The stirring inside her deepened and she thought she would go insane if she let it overtake her. The way she could not think clear when it came to him worried and confused her. It was something she had never experienced before.
Fearing that she would get into even more trouble if she stayed, she had decided that the safest thing to do was to clear her head and leave the Belmont Manor with its dangerous owner far behind. She nearly forgot why she was there in the first place and moaned with frustration as soon as she remembered.
Great!
If she was going to leave earlier than anticipated and come back empty handed, she needed to come up with an excuse to give John, her boss.
"This is your chance Anna, make the best of it! Opportunities like this don't come around very often." his shrewd black eyes were assessing her behind his reading glasses, as he delegated the interview to her. "We have been trying to get this guy for a couple of years now and this is the first time he agreed to meet with anyone from the media. For a reason that beats me, out of all the reporters, he requested you, so don't let me down."
"Me?" her jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
"Yeah, you Missy. Said he enjoyed your articles." He winked at her kindly and handed her an expensive looking cream envelope with her name beautifully handwritten on it, by a calligrapher by the looks of it.
Michael Belmont asked for her personally? How bizarre. But she was too thrilled to dwell on the "why" for too long.