by Maya DeLeina
Anya gazed into Steffan’s eyes as she slowly took in his entire length. His velvety tip nudged the back of her throat and she squinted as she swallowed against him, guiding him further down her throat.
Steffan moaned at the erotic performance. Anya’s eyes were watery but solid in her lustful gaze upon him. She released his shaft, tracing his thickness with her tongue and outlining his pulsing veins.
Steffan poured the wine again, this time controlling the pour just above his navel. The streams ran down the contours of his rippled abdomen muscles, down to his groin. Anya slurped up the wine that dripped from his erect shaft and moved her way up. Dark-red splashes speckled Anya’s face. She moved in a snakelike motion, slithering up from his navel to his chest, soaking up the remnants of wine with her tongue that still clung to his flesh. Steffan cradled her chin and licked the wine from her face. On his last swipe, her tongue caught his, entwining recklessly.
The wine bottle thudded against the floor as Steffan lost his grip on it in the midst of his rapture. He motioned Anya down to the pillows, to lie on her side. He positioned himself behind her, fitting closely against her, spooning her form. Steffan raised her leg and propped it up around his thighs. Anya gently bent forward at the hips to accept his entry. Slowly, Steffan slid himself through her moistened folds, both of them releasing moans of pure ecstasy. He hugged Anya tightly around her neck, plunging his full length into her. She looked behind to capture Steffan’s gaze. He seized her lips, and they settled into the decadent kiss. Their lovemaking was sensual and intimate, each being fulfilled beyond words, riding the waves of utter pleasure.
“You feel so good inside of me,” Anya whispered as Steffan’s forehead lay against her check.
She panted erotically. Her body reveled in pure ecstasy. Her lips were swollen, flushed in a deep shade of pink. She bit down on them, longing to feel the play of Steffan’s teeth biting her sensually once again. Everything she felt coursing through her body—pleasure, happiness, contentment, and security—was all of his doing. She responded to him in a way that no man ever could elicit. A burning desire shot through her, a craving that went far beyond the flesh.
She ached to breathe his breath as his eternal mate.
An overload of emotion and stimulation congregated at the moment, and Anya began to cry. “No man made me has ever made me this way. Take me, spread me open. Fill me.”
“No man will ever have you the way I have you, Anya. I’m going to make you feel all of my love.”
Steffan released his hold on Anya and repositioned himself. He kneeled, straddling her left leg. Anya curled her right leg around him. Steffan leaned forward and gripped her shoulders as he penetrated her deeply.
“Keep your eyes on me. Watch what your love does to me,” Steffan demanded, tucking his arm under her right leg and pushing her deeper into his thrust. Anya screamed out in pleasure as he buried himself to the hilt, leaving no inch of her core unnavigated, unexplored. She synchronized her movements to his slow, deep rhythm, tracing every vein and ridge with her walls. They rocked against each other, slowly and methodically like the ebb and flow of a gentle sea.
“I need your mouth on me. Take me. Suck!” Anya begged.
The voice that escaped her body didn’t sound like her own. An indescribable hunger boiled in her belly. It fluttered around low in her stomach, sending vibrating pulses to her groin, down to her toes and shooting electric currents to her heart.
Steffan’s eyes burned passionate red. “It’s time to seal our fate. My body needs your blood. I need to drain you…almost completely in order for you to complete the claim with your drink from my veins. Anya, don’t be scared.”
Steffan’s teeth descended from the veil of tissue that masked their existence.
“I trust you. Drink, Steffan,” Anya cried out.
Steffan ran his teeth up and down her breast, lightly grazing her flesh. He pulled back slightly, taking a deep breath in, and plunged his teeth deep into her right breast. Anya screamed at the stabbing pain of his entry. She wrapped her hands behind his head, entwining her fingers in his hair as her body contracted with his taking.
Steffan continued to thrust his cock slow and deep into her while he gulped down her liquid fire. Her body was draining quickly. She could see traces of the dark-red liquid slipping from his mouth, his intake barely keeping pace with the speed of her blood flow.
A bitter cold began to fill her, icing her veins.
Her mind blurred, yet she was still very aware of the mind-numbing stimulation all of Steffan’s entry points were doing to her. Her muscles gripped tightly around Steffan’s thick cock, milking him, begging for his hot release.
With every gulp he took, she sank deeper and deeper into bliss.
Anya’s breath quickened. Suddenly her toes curled, and a marked wetness drenched her pussy walls. “I’m coming! I’m coming!”
Steffan was deep in a trance from his feeding on Anya. Gasping, he released Anya. Blood dripped freely from his mouth. His teeth were stained a pinkish-red hue. “Anya? How do you feel?”
“Weak, but never so aroused in my life. How do you feel?”
“I’m anxious for you to drink from me.”
Steffan slid his cock out of her. He sat up and repositioned Anya’s body. He spread her legs wide and extended his body over her, quickly positioning himself to slide back into her, “I love you, Anya. When you’re ready to drink me, let me know,” he whispered.
“How will I know?”
“Trust me, you’ll know.”
Steffan’s hands wrapped around his thickness, guiding himself to Anya’s drenched opening. He slid in, her welcoming warmth tightly bound around him. He thrust hard, all the way into her and pumped rhythmically, his breath intensifying with every movement. An undeniable rumble deep in Anya’s belly, and a sudden, unquenched hunger enveloped her senses. Never before had she felt this famished or obsessed.
This must be it.
“Steffan, I’m ready. I think it’s time.”
Steffan took a deep breath and watched Anya intently as she licked her lips.
A quick pierce of his razor-sharp nail penetrated the junction where his neck met his shoulder. He hovered over her, allowing his black blood to trickle into her mouth. Anya could smell the sweetness of the chocolate undertones spewing from the wound, the taste of the decadent darkness teasing her lips in a slow drip.
With great passion, she instinctively latched on to the wound and feasted on his sweet nectar. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer to her body. Steffan slipped his hand under her and cradled the back of her head as she drank.
Anya’s drinking intensified.
Steffan sat back on his heels, pulling Anya up from the mattress and positioning her to straddle him. He stroked deep, his hand on her buttocks, guiding her up and down his cock. He ground into her vigorously, over and over again. “Anya, I’m going to come.”
Anya released from the wound and drove her fingers into his mouth to capture his saliva. With a swipe of her fingers, the wound was closed. Steffan gazed up at Anya as her mouth dripped with his blood.
“Anya!” Steffan cried out. His body rippled with every wave of his release that shot deep into Anya, claiming her.
“Oh my god, I love you, Steffan.”
“I love you, Anya.”
Anya panted as the afterglow of their union beamed from her body. “When is it going—” Anya froze in midsentence.
“Anya?” Steffan laid Anya’s head down on the pillows.
Anya’s eyes darted back at Steffan in pure fear. She tried to speak, but nothing would release from her body. Her arms began to wail about frantically. Her hands were flailing, clawing at her throat and at his chest in a full-blown panic.
It burns! The pain! No. No. I’m scared. Steffan, please help me. I can’t do this, Anya screamed in her mind.
Tears rolled down Steffan’s face. “I hear you, love. I hear you. I’m going to be right here. Don’t be scared. You will
come back to me.”
Oh my god. I can’t do this. I can’t breathe. Everything hurts. I’m dying, Steffan! I’m dying! Anya reached for Steffan’s face and clutched it tightly.
“I know, love. I know. You are dying. Your body is shutting down. I’m so sorry. I wish I could take this pain from you,” Steffan muttered through his tears. He wept uncontrollably.
“Oh no. No! Steffan, you keep fading in and out…I can’t feel anything but pain. I can’t feel…me. Please help me. I’m scared. Please…I don’t want to die!”
“What have I done?” Steffan screamed at himself.
Suddenly, Anya quieted in her panic.
Something inside calmed her, allowing her to accept her fate and ready for her death. While the subject of death and dying, what happens to the body and mind in various stages of death and theories of the soul, was nothing new to her, she didn’t quite know what to expect. This was not a normal death. It was unnatural, going against all laws and rules of science and order. She was unprepared, and it tangled within her. In a flurry, she mentally recited a list of music compositions, trying to test the status of her brain functions. She recalled everything vividly, but the stinging realization settled within her. She was no longer in pain. Her receptors no longer ignited body movement.
Death was near.
She lay still. She needed clarity. Finding peace with what was about to take place was her single-minded thought. She fired the last pieces of energy to do a final assessment.
Was this what she truly wanted for herself?
“Anya, your death is killing me! I can’t believe how selfish I was to ask this of you! I’m sorry. But I cannot undo what has already been done,” Steffan cried.
Instantaneously, the split second of doubt was gone. The same emotional tide that took away drew her back in, closer to Steffan than ever before. She could see the strain on his face, full of anxiety, regret, and blame. She fixed on his gaze, the depth of emotion telling her what she had already known in her soul.
She found forever in his eyes. He was where she needed to be.
This is what I want. To be your mate, to be with you for an eternity, Anya voiced in her mind, coming to a level of serenity with her decision.
Steffan held her hand in his and closed his eyes. He wept wildly.
She focused on his face, waiting for a sign of the end. Darkness or light, whatever it would be, she was going to leave behind her mortality, whispering his name.
Steffan Matthews, I love you.
* * * *
Steffan caught Anya’s last thought as he heard her body expelled its last breath. The shine in Anya’s eyes extinguished suddenly. They were no longer deep with emotion, but simply objects staring back at him, frozen in a panic-stricken state. Steffan sat in shock, examining her shell that just minutes ago, had been so full of life. Everything was silent. There was noise, no movement from Anya.
12:23 a.m.
Steffan laid his head on Anya’s chest. He wanted desperately to feel her wake and wrap her arms around him.
He ran his hands up and down her body.
The heat was escaping her body fast.
He was sick to his stomach. She was a healthy woman with so much life ahead of her, and he’d asked her to give it up for him.
Soon, Steffan, soon. She will return. We did everything correctly. She will return, Steffan said to himself to calm his nerves.
12:28 a.m.
“Anya. It’s been five minutes, love. Please come back to me. Can you hear me?”
Steffan listened for a response. Nothing stirred.
12:32 a.m.
“Anya, wake up!”
Steffan shook Anya’s body. Her bronzed skin was washed in a pale-ash color.
“Wake up, damnit! Come back to me. It’s been too long. What is going on?”
Steffan panicked, realizing Anya had been dead for almost ten minutes and showed no signs of returning. Turnings typically took no more than five minutes. Some were recorded at nine minutes, but none was ever recorded past that.
12:34 a.m.
“Anya!”
Steffan shook her violently and frantically started rubbing her down, trying to get the blood she’d consumed from him moving in her body.
“Come back to me! Come back! What have I done, my sweet Anya?”
Steffan sat back on his heels and cried out. “Anya!”
Chapter Twenty
Tears devoured Steffan as he ran through all of the steps in his mind. He covered all of them. He was sure of it. Her body’s natural progression of the turning took place without incident.
Was her body not strong enough to come back? Did she not consume enough of my blood? Think, damnit, what did I miss?
Steffan wrestled with his thoughts just as Eilian came charging through the door. His appearance told the story of his haste to be at Steffan’s aide. He stood bare chested, the top of his jeans unbuttoned, his hair windswept.
“You’re here!” A sense of relief washed over Steffan as he finished draping a black, silk sheet over Anya’s nude body. He secured another around his waist and moved from Anya’s side to allow Eilian to examine her.
“How long has it been?” Eilian asked as he hovered over Anya’s body, checking for signs of life.
Steffan ran his fingers through his hair as he looked at the clock.
12:38 a.m.
Tears returned to consume him. “Shit, it’s been over fifteen minutes now.”
“And she didn’t show any signs of coming back or least attempting to?”
“None! Eilian, I can’t remember any documented account where it took longer than eight minutes for a claimed human to return to their body. Is she gone?”
“I don’t know, Steffan. I’ve heard stories of human claims taking longer, but I’ve never seen it documented either. There just isn’t much out there on human-vampire claims.” Eilian shook his head. “Look, we need Rhys here. I want to know everything that happened to Brynne when he claimed her.”
Steffan slipped his jeans on under the black, silk sheet as he called Rhys to the house. In a matter of minutes, Rhys was in the master bedroom with Steffan and Eilian.
“Brynne only took six minutes to come back, but it was the worst six minutes of my life.” He looked at Steffan’s distraught shell clinging to Anya’s hand.
“Sorry, Steffan.”
Steffan kept his gaze focused on Anya. He nodded in response to the apology.
“Listen, I told Brynne what was going on. She told me something about her turning that could be happening to Anya. And if it is, man, is she going to be one special lady.”
“What do you mean?” Steffan asked, breaking his trance.
“Brynne said that before she returned to her body, she suspended, her mind and body were trying to learn everything she had acquired from the turning. Brynne seems to think that if Anya is taking this long to come back, she might have a gained quite a bit of unique abilities.”
“So, if she is truly just suspended, that would mean her body may have already made the change. She is probably in a vampire body by now so…” Eilian trailed off as he started pacing the room.
“What are you thinking?” asked Steffan.
“Well, I want to test to see if this is in fact what is happening to Anya. I want to know if she’s just in a suspended state right now. If the claim was successful, her body should already have turned and we’re just waiting for her to return to get everything, how should I say…up and running?”
Steffan nodded. “Okay. How do you want to test this?”
“Steffan, you’ll have to break a bone. Repair mechanisms are the only thing we can see with the naked eye at this point.”
Steffan looked at the clock, closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath.
12:43 a.m.
He released his breath slowly as he lifted Anya’s arm to his chest. He opened his eyes and planted a soft kiss on her hand. He held her pinky finger firmly in his hand.
“Steffan, you’
ll need to test on a bigger bone. We won’t be able to see much of anything on the small bone. It could even be an internal mend,” Eilian said.
Steffan nodded in understanding and guided his hands up to Anya’s forearm instead. He repositioned himself, kneeling on the bed. He remained next to her body and closed his eyes. “Eilian, I don’t think I can do this.” Steffan’s voice was tattered and flustered.
“You have to. We have to see if her body’s properties have turned to truly understand what’s going on here.”
“Let me try to communicate with her once more.” Steffan concentrated, and this time, slowly he picked up the bright lights and white noise. “I hear white noise, and the blinding light is back. She’s still with us! I’ve picked this up from her before!” Steffan exclaimed in relief.
“Then that means her body will repair itself. Do it, Steffan. Do it now!” Eilian demanded.
Steffan closed his eyes and squeezed his two hands around Anya’s arm, one near her wrist and the other just below her elbow. He slowly rotated his fists. The bone started to fracture, echoing in the room as if sheets of ice were cracking under a heavy snow boot. Steffan continued his motions, swiveling his wrists all the way up until his thumbs faced the ceiling. His face exhibited every grief-stricken emotion that consumed him.
“Forgive me, Anya! Please, forgive me.” Steffan took a deep breath and applied the last bit of pressure and force that sent him over the edge “Fuck!”
Thwack!
The unmistakable sound filled the room.
The fierce snap made Rhys and Eilian’s body jump.
Steffan’s skin crawled.
Without hesitation, thin, black veins crept from Anya’s heart, through her shoulder, and down her arm. Her body’s new natural defenses were employed. The delicate webs traveled with ease just beneath the surface of her skin and congregated at the break.
