A little taste of vampire love

I’m writing, writing, writing. I don’t have anything interesting or profound to say so I’ll give you a little excerpt from my soon to be released short story WINNER TAKES ALL.

Blood–Malcolm’s blood, vampire blood, thick liquid ambrosia that literally burned like whiskey and left him more intoxicated. It like sucking the syrupy brown sauce off of his favorite Chinese dish, full of bit, sharp and spicy, a little burn, a little sweet, all delicious and making him quest further down Malcolm’s throat yearning for more. In his mind he could see it coating the roof of his mouth, trickling over the crevices in his tongue creating tiny rivers of black-red and tantalizing every taste bud it touched. He felt it slide down his throat and seep into his cells, staining everything in its path. It felt like it had a life of its own. He wanted more.
It was…addictive.
The idea that he was going to have a life-time of savoring this rolled though his mind and he sobered slightly, thinking how unlike him that thought was. He lived every day for the moment, never planning ahead, and certainly not planning a future with a vampire as his only lover.
He wanted to loose himself in the fierce embrace, but a nagging itch kept tickling his brain until he pulled back, panting, flushed, sweaty and reeling. He didn’t think he could take a steady diet of this without stroking out. His lips and arms wanted to dive right back into the kiss, but he needed to hear one more old wives tale shattered before he could fully enjoy it.
Head titled back by Malcolm’s grip, Hunter batted his lust-heavy eyelids up to allow his gaze to study Malcolm’s chiseled, pale features, hoping to see the answer in the vampire’s expression as well as hear it in his throaty voice. “If a vampire tastes a person’s blood can they really know their thoughts? Control them?”
“No.” It was said in part smugness, part disdain. “A vampire is merely nourished by a human’s blood.”
“That’s a relief.” Hunter drew in a deep breath to sigh out his gratitude, but the air was pushed from his lungs with a grunt. His back slammed up against the wall by the bedroom door, his body pressed chest to chest to Malcolm’s iron length.
The vampire’s hand wove its way into his hair and tugged, bowing his back slightly and arching his groin out to grind on the thick thigh forced between his legs. It was delicious, if unexpected, demanding yet wholly seductive. As powerful, as swift, as the lift and slam had been, Hunter knew Malcolm was being restrained and the thoughts of what more lay beneath that restraint thrilled him as much as it frightened him.
Harsh, raw and unapologetic, Malcolm practically crooned, “It’s after a person tastes a vampire’s blood that the mental and physical binding occurs.”
“Fuck.”
The taste of spiced copper and vibrant, liquid lust lingered on his palate and burned the corners of his mouth. The tip of his tongue immediately darted to one corner to wipe the vampire’s blood away, but captured it instead as though it was the finest ambrosia. His skin prickled at the thought of what he had just done, what Malcolm had just said. He believed the truth in the vampire’s words, felt it in coursing in his own veins, heard the whispers weaving ghostly tendrils of control through in his mind.
“Well…just…fuck.”

I love vampires. I really do.

Laura

Written by Laura Baumbach

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