Chapter One
Welcome To My Addiction
I couldn't help it, I was giddy. Every fiber of
my being was alight and prancing with excitement for what was to come. I knew
it was wrong, on many levels, and even more so that I had been looking forward
to this all week. It was weird and wrong enough to want someone to drink your
blood, but being excited about it meant I was ready to be locked u
p and put on a lot of medication. I was an addict, yes, and I
would not so proudly admit it, but it was the truth. And deep down, past all my
wants and morals, it was wrong.
But every time I spent a few days away from that bite, I felt withdrawl. I felt
longing and a slow, aching emptiness that seemed to eat slowly away like boiled
sugar splashed onto skin. It hurt, and not only could I not stand it, neither
could Dimitri.
Luckily for me, he felt my pains and my emotions just as strongly as I and so
he couldn't find himself to say no when I needed his bite as much as he needed
to sate his thirst. My needs amplified his to feed on me as much as I needed to
feel that same sating in my own way. It was a vicious circle of need, and I
liked that it played in both our favors.
I fumbled with the edges of my hair at my chest, biting my lip in frustration
as time crawled by too slowly. I could feel my whole body going tense, muscles
going taut and joints locking up. The more I let myself realize how long it had
been since I'd been fed on, the more my body started to let me feel what I'd
been denying myself. The pain of withdrawl that was becoming my normalcy. My
breathing slowed and my vision seemed to dim in my dark room. The dull ringing
in my ears started up and I covered them as if it might help. I gritted my
teeth and rested my elbows on my thighs.
A cold sweat broke out across my brow and I tried to focus hard and breathe
slowly. But my chest felt tight and the air too thick. The hole began to burn
away little by little, growing bigger and deeper.
Gingerly, a cool hand caressed my cheek and I gasped, jerking to stare up at
the gorgeous statue of a man that was Dimitri, my Dimitri.
The soft lines of his lips quirked into a smirk as he gazed down at me with
wonder. The shadows of my room seemed his natural habitat as he was here so
often. Dark brown hair hung thickly down the nape of his neck and bangs split
over his forehead in a soft wave. His eyes were a wondrous light brown like a
darker shade of butterscotch.
He was dressed in his usual black button-up beneath an equally black double-breasted
wool coat.
"My little bird," he purred softly, his voice entrancing my every
sense. Feeling him here, hearing his voice, suddenly I felt the aches and pains
slowly ease away as if being drained into a flowing river that carried them
far, far away. It was his power, no doubt, and his presence alone helped ease
my entire form into relaxation. "You do quite an admiral job of blocking
it out. I'm proud of you." And though his voice portrayed that he truly
did feel proud, his eyes looked disapproving.
"Well, you know how to keep a girl on her toes." I replied, "And
women are used to walking in heels, so that's a common feat."
His silky laughter had me fluttering my eyes as a pleasant smile took my lips.
I loved it when he laughed at my jokes.
"Women
did not usually wear heels that carried them a whole half a foot taller than
they already were." his husky voice had me entranced as usual and I had to
focus hard to keep my thoughts alined to keep up a conversation with him,
especially
when my body was realizing that the moment I'd been waiting for for days now
was so close at hand.
I gave a glance toward my closet where the small shoe rack held my favorites in
a line if heels that I choose specifically because I was vertically challenged.
Dimirtri didn't prefer me in heels, he liked it when he could wrap and arm
around me easily and even lean on my shoulders with a lazy grace that he seemed
to possess. But I was determined to get him used to the fact that I hated my
ridiculous height. 5'2" was hardly what I would call an Amazon and with
Dimitri from the old days where 5'8" was easily tall for a man, we fit
perfectly. But I still wasn't going to give up my delicious heels because my
addiction wasn't impressed with taller women.
"You're just jealous that women have an advantage accessory that aids our
shortness while men have to be stuck with what they're born with."
His answering smile had my heart sinking to the bottom of my stomach where it
fluttered with the butterflies. "I don't find myself stuck with anything I
can't handle." He brushed the underside of my lower lip with his gentle
thumb.
I felt my eyes close and heard my heart go into rapid-fire as I felt his cool
breath along my jaw and breezing at my neck. This was it, what I wanted,
needed, what I ached wholly for. I heard the subtle shift as his teeth
sharpened into deadly points and his breath teased the little hairs on my neck.
I snatched up his sleeves, the cotton smooth between my clenched fingers. At
the same moment, he felt the rush of need that I did, in that little circle
that our urges danced a firey tango in. He hauled me up against his chest and
bit down deep into my flesh.
The pain
is always something that still feels like my body's last ditch effort to warn
me that this isn't good for me. Pain is a warning, a way for the brain to tell
you that whatever it is that's going on, isn't supposed to be happening.
Whether it's grabbing a hold of the pot on the stove that let the handle heat
up or pricking your finger on something sharp. Pain is the sign, and I couldn't
deny that even in this case. But the pleasure that swept both the pain and my
entire being away was enough that the warning was no longer valid. It was part
of the charm of being fed from, the pain never lasted long. It was a quick yelp
before the ecstasy began. And once that feeling took over, nothing else
mattered. I could have been in the middle of a burning building about to die,
but if I was bitten and fed from, I'd have done the same as I was now. I was
sighing in relief and relaxing as the sound of my heartbeat became the ebb and
flow of my surroundings.
Dimitri held onto me tightly as he usually did. The time I most felt close to
him was now, in a feeding where he clung to me like I was his life support. I
liked feeling needed, loved. I liked feeling like if something happened to me,
someone would be greatly upset. With Dimitri, I felt like I was the center of
the universe. Oh, if only a feeding lasted longer than but a few moments.
He never took so much from me that I got sick, he was too careful and
particular about that sort of thing. But it was enough that I was left weakened
and lethargic after, safely wrapped about in a warm bliss that usually sang me
to sleep right away.
Before I
knew it, he had pulled away from the wound at my neck, his soft tongue slipping
across the two pinpricks to heal them and I was slowly being lowered onto my
dark blue bed spread. As much as I'd have liked the event to carry on further,
I was so blissful that it didn't matter that I wanted him to hold me and
whisper in my ear all night. I was just happy that my addiction was being
sated, that I was going to sleep well and deep tonight.
The
world was a faded mist around me and there was no use in looking around to see
him because I knew he was doing what he always did. He was slipping me under my
covers, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead and slipping back out the window
quietly to disappear into the night.
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