Andrew closed his eyes as he watched her.
Diana was lightly tan the way light-skinned girls get tan when they've been in the sun a long time and were passed the whole burning thing. That was odd for this time of the year, especially considering she didn't have the look of someone who recently returned from vacation. He was sure there was a story there. The question was, would he be able to get her to share it?
Finally, he couldn't help himself; this woman was like a fire; even with its warmth, a moth-like him couldn't just stay away, awfully, like he longed for her.
Though she seemed to awaken slowly, he heard her moan his name.
Fuck! She moans like a goddess. He thought.
He couldn't help himself; he tried his best not to touch her skin. Yet his hands burned a trail down to her shoulder. He murmured no sense of vulgarity against her flesh. Dammit, Andrew. This is stupid. He thought, but without warning, he lifted her legs and took the remaining little underwear she was wearing. All common sense was lost when he took a whiff of her scent.
Bloody hell, she was that wet? How could she be wet?
"Whatever you'll be doing, don't stop," Diana uttered with her eyes closed. He frowned. But then again, she moaned and slightly offered herself to him. A little growl escaped her lips as Andrew ran his warm breath onto her skin.
"Diana? Are you awake? Are you dreaming?" Andrew asked as he took a little peek into her still-closed eyes.
"No, for the love of guacamole, stop talking; I need this, I need to forget what happened earlier. I need you!" She whispered, her hands caressing her skin, down to her now naked folds. She touched herself slowly.
Dammit, she is making this too difficult for me.
But Andrew was lost—lost to his own desire. His eyes glistened dangerously. He gently caressed her legs and hurried through the place where the scent of lust radiated. How could she smell like a fresh flower in the summer and be so deliciously wet at the same time?
Lost in his insanity, he stroked her clit softly, his touch becoming more firm as he stroked lower to her opening and then back up again to her clit, coating a bundle of nerves with the liquid from inside her.
Diana moaned, "Andrew, please don't stop. I want more!"
He watched her close her eyes; her features relaxed, yet a little moan came out of her throat. His mind spun over the events of the day. He had planned to kill her only half an hour ago. Now she moans on his old sofa bed. Slowly, Diana rolled her head and rocked her body with his hand. For a moment, he wondered if her brain had started to remember him as a neighbour, but her breathing remained steady. She must be too shocked, he thought, yet he couldn't stop.
Her moan made him confident enough to continue his invasion. He let his other hand wind into her legs, and his nose went even closer to her, smelling her scent. All rational reason went down the drain; he was lost. Lost to her smell and her whimpers. He stroked her hastily, and it caused her to moan again. She suddenly wrapped her legs over his head and shoulder, and he was shocked for a moment.
But then, his mouth brushed the lower part of her abdomen, and as lust shot through him at the contact, he lowered his head a little and began tasting her, licking and lapping her clit. He groaned softly and couldn't help himself as she groaned his name again and again. The scent of her arousal filled the air, intoxicating his senses. She was writhing and sighing softly. His finger and tongue pleased her, rocking herself forward and offering him more; then a minute seemed eternity, and then she reached her peak. Close eyes, sated with a small smile on her lips.
Then her movement and moan stopped. She lay still, probably asleep, and her breathing began to steady. She had to be so terrified from an earlier event that she was willing to let a stranger touch her, or maybe she just needed a release? There was no way she couldn't know what he was doing. He listened intently again; her mind was empty. Still nothing. She must be dreaming. now.
Fuck it! He thought.
He had to get out of there, or he wasn't going to be able to stop himself from taking her.
Andrew then covered her with a soft little blanket and quickly walked to the small bathroom, barely shutting the door before he fisted his throbbing shaft. An image of Diana moaning and writhing flashed through his mind. He could still smell her scent on his fingers. It only took a minute before the tension in his body exploded, granting him profound relief. He cleaned himself, washed his hands, and took a new pair of dark jeans before slipping out of the cabin.
"I might need to take my mind from her," Andrew murmured as he ran in a blur towards the distant waterfalls. He sensed the rough, brisk wind of the winter sleet beating down on his face and his back.
In the morning, Diana woke up, confused by the familiar room.
Bloody hell, if this isn’t death, then what the fuck is going on? She thought to herself.
Her hair was as chaotic as the wilderness—untamable and raucous. Her once remarkable golden blonde was now vaguely compared to a bird's nest, and any bows or clips that had once held them were long gone. She looked around and remembered that she was in her grandfather’s cabin, and she knew this was her room.
“Okay, Diana, do not panic.” Stop thinking of a hundred nonsense questions per hour. Take a deep breath, and don't forget to cover your ass! After all, you only have one of them, she pondered.
The room was just tiny and clean enough to indicate that someone had attended; the space was just disorganised enough to indicate that someone was able to let their creativity roam free.
Long ago, this was her golden zone, perfect for how she was. However, her thoughts were empty. Like some veil was lifted, and she became herself again, lust-free! Or was she? But the sudden assault of headaches made her wince; the pain was unbearable.
I think someone took a baseball bat and swung it hard on my bloody head.
What a weird circumstance. Normally, her thoughts were swirling and turning nonstop, suffocating her with their whispers of worries and problems, yet she felt stray and baffled. It was like someone had lurked inside her mind, straddling the fence of her privacy. Oddly weird.
Wait, is she dead? Or in heaven, perhaps? But if this is heaven, then I'm in deep sh*t. I didn't even have a bloody comb to fix my hair.
But the morning sun peaks in the tiny window, adding light to her hell, and the painful burn on her head was unbearable.
Every minute, her head was hammered with a thud heavier, and in every second, it felt like her slow death was near. The distress and burning made it feel like her mind was no longer her own. The hardest part was that she felt dizzy, and it felt like she was in a boat. It took her to the verge of consciousness but never let her fall into oblivion. She could still feel her body, even though she couldn't move it. So she lay still, gazing at the window of her awaiting death. Or it felt like it.
When she thought the pain was the worst of it, a new twinge struck. A harsh bolt shoots from her head and extends to her heart, causing her to arch from the bed. Her weary voice found itself a howl that left her fragile force. Her hands gripped her head when her veins felt like they beat harder than before. She pulled her fists away and shouted in horror when she noticed that she was naked, covered only with a cotton blanket.
Okay, she didn't expect that!
But hell!
Bloody mackerel. What the heck is happening? Wait?
Did I even wear nice panties earlier? What if this is heaven and I don't have one with me?
“Oh my God, someone took my clothes," she whispered under painful breath as she checked herself for any signs of pain and discomfort, yet none came.
She felt rather warm and sated.
Odd.
Okay, Diana, do not panic. Where the hell is your panty? Please tell me if you have it somewhere or if you are going to walk the commando.
Why am I talking to myself?
Who took my clothes?
"I did. You were shivering from fever and convulsing so I took your clothes to lower your body temperature."
The Edward Collen—stranger, it's him.
Her neighbour.
Andrew Law…
Her saviour?
Why was he here? And why is he bloody hot and yummy? Damn! Those arms and those shoulders.
"What the hell happened? And why are you here in my grandfather's cabin?" Diana asked as she surveyed him.
Agree, he was hotter than before.
He has a peppered stubble, his atlantic blue eyes flicker with curiosity and gleam with delight. Yet, he had a dashing personality and a cosmic smile. He had bristly eyebrows, defined cheekbones, and a concrete jaw.
She noticed his musky earthy scent swirling around him.
This man is gorgeous. Beyond beautiful. And hot, you have to admit it Diana this man is a sex god. She thought to herself.
"Are you done checking me out?” Andrew raised his brow at her. “And to answer your question, I bought this cabin from Robert. So, he was your grandfather?" he added, giving her a glass of water. "Here, drink this. I know you’re thirty.""Well, uh-huh, thanks?” she bit her lips. “I'm not checking you out.”What the fuck?She breathed in and tried to forget her embarrassing words: "I—I'm, uh, Diana Moore. We are, um, neighbours? I mean, I'm not sure if you can remember me." She cleared her throat. “Yes, he was my grandfather." She added quickly, took the glass and pressed the rim against her parched, cracked lips, and savoured it with all her might. Her throat charred when a burning sensation in her throat grew even after emptying it.She was embarrassed, but she was so thirsty as hell, and he was kind enough to offer her, not to mention saving her life from the bad guys. Yeah, she owes him."Thank you for saving me from those, um, those guys. Are they all dead? What are they? Are they
"Why are you here in the woods, Andrew?" Diana asked, just to take out the elephant in the cave. She focused on the scent in the air, like the loamy smell of calm rain or the salty tang of the old, usual ocean air. How was that even possible when the ocean was a thousand miles away from here? Weird? What the fuck! I'm getting crazy. She thought as she crept her nose a little closer to Andrew's neck. They sat together, almost touching each other. Yet the man was ignoring her, lost in his own thoughts.This guy smells like a flower vase. Lilac? Roses? Or Heaven? Weird.She breathed in his scent, which was nothing but like her grandpappy, who always had a hint of the spicy cigar, but this man has a lingering scent of fresh earthly and ocean aromas. What a weird combination! His scent was so much more amazing nearby, though. Like a tang of sea air that has a way of making her satisfied and in harmony, like it was anchoring her other emotions to the briny whiff that has all the callings of
A week later, at the Bean Coffee shop where Diana and her best friend Tommy Reynolds work, she looked around; the shop was once cloistered and closed with so many tables and so little room. Now the shop was open-air, a sort of covered patio with tables a respectful distance apart. Wrapped up in the wintertime, dressed for the occasion, the patron's hands warmed and their breath rose in serendipitous puffs as they enjoyed their warm coffee, the sweetness of chocolate cups, freshly baked goods, and soothing music. The coffee shop patio was Diana's happy place. Here she noticed everyone, the corner shops, and the university a few yards away.There were so many memories—her happy times here with her best friend, their never-ending arguments about his many theories about everything on the planet.With a cup of coffee in her hand, Diana noticed how busy the food vendors were, giving the middle of the community a sort of market atmosphere and the university student area zone.Tommy, her best
She knew it was the end. The end of her short life. Diana knew she had died. Or maybe she didn't. But the shadow of the gloaming forest and the howls of the wild, unknown beasts screeched from the distance were enough for the fragile-hearted to turn back to its trails and never come back. But she let her hands caress the forest bushes as she passed, feeling their gracious spirits calm her own. What the hell was she doing in here? Was this hell? Heaven? She frowned even though the darkness was everywhere, but she knew not to be intimidated by the darkness and its powerful forces. However, some primitive tensions lurked in her psyche, and finally, she opened up her other senses to the noise, to the scent, and headed to her every intuition, to her instinct, and to her fate. Nothing, she saw nothing but darkness. Oh, my bloody fuck! Why the hell am I here anyway? I'm dead, right? Jezz, is this hell? Why is it so cold in here? Hell was supposed to be very hot, right? She thought to he
“I was dead for one week?” She blurted with enough shock that it made Andrew roll his eyes. But he stopped when he noticed her emotions were not easily suppressed on her innocent face. “Oh my God! I died,” she began again. And he saw her shock, pain, and fear; it was apparent in the crease of her lovely brow and the down-curve of her full lips. But her eyes—her eyes showed her soul. They were a deep brown of restless autumn, an amber of unfortunate plight. A window! Andrew realised that as he stared into her eyes, he knew all the beauty of the universe could not even hope to compete with this unpretentious little mortal: Passion. Raw. Pure. Innocent. It was all there to see; it turned her eyes into orbs of luminous fire. And in them, he examined her completely, knowing that she would battle to the very last tear for her life. And yet she did. She was back from the dead. He made her! She followed her command not to succumb to the darkness. He made her come back. FOr him? For the world?
Diana smirked, went to the mirror, and opened her mouth to check for fangs, yet she saw none. Disappointed, she sighed. "Dickhead, vampire, my ass," how could she even believe that it was all real?Of course, vampires don't exist. She turned around towards the man, who looked bored watching her check herself, like she was someone who came from another planet. "For a moment there, I thought you were telling the truth, vampire, my ass. No such thing!"He raised a brow and stepped a little forward. He took the wine glass from the bedside table and offered it to Diana."Here, take this. That might help your little trust issues."“I don't have trust issues. I am merely trying to convince myself that you didn't give me drugs.”She grumbled with a very disappointed look, but then she took a deep breath.On cue, she halted. She looked at Andrew back to the wineglass, smelt the liquid inside with a furrowed brow, and then, with a quick painful ache in her gums, her pointy, sharp fangs appeared
Meanwhile, unknown to Raymond during their conversation, the creature stopped by the door, its dark body shifting back to solidity in a dizzying surge of unexpectedly fleshed-out bones and skin. The creature pressed its back against the library door, deeper in the darkness, listening and hearing its enchanting phrases against the power of the proud library, where it would have been absolutely defended for the amber colour tinge by the exit light. It growled; it knew there was something in that mansion that could not be crossed. Like a wall of old magical veils. Then it hissed with pain again. It closed its misted, dark eyes, focusing on where the pulsing was coming from. It was like ripples through the marble floor, vibrating under its feet, up through its bones, and placing a dull rumbling in its chest. When Raymond activated the ancient guard of the mansion, the misted creature vanished and never returned. Using the safety protocol, Raymond burned an incense that had the blood of
Andrew breathed on her shivering body, and his tongue moved over her again in another long stroke, curled and caressed, dipped deep, and then she heard herself crying his name as he suckled hard, his tongue stabbing deep, rasping and rubbing over her most sensitive spot. She couldn't stay still, thrashing under him, her head falling back and forth, her lungs burning for air, while her body tightened and tightened, straining and building until she thought she'd explode. "Andrew!" She caught his dark hair in her fist and yanked. "You're killing me." "It's all good, baby," he encouraged. "I want you ready for me." His fingers pushed deep, found gold, and she bucked, her back arching, as wave after wave of orgasms rocked her from head to toe. Andrew shifted instantly, moving between her legs and thrusting deep into her silken sheath. Her muscles gripped him, and he fought his entry in spite of her slickness but gave way as he powered deeper, pushing through the tight, hot folds. There w