She clenched my back, digging her nails into me every time I thrust into her. I loved giving every woman I chose the ultimate pleasure and I couldn’t stop from thinking about how good she felt as her sticky walls hugged me. Sinking my teeth into her skin was the other thing that came to my mind, but I didn’t want to suck her blood… not yet anyway. I actually hadn’t made up my mind on if I wanted to feed off her. Her sex seemed satisfying enough not to, and my vampire instincts weren’t pulling me in that direction.
After a few more deep long pumps from me, she drew in deep shallow breaths, let go of the death grip she had on my back, and thanked God aloud for one hell of an orgasm.
“Are you okay?” I asked her after I watched her mild trembles subside.
“I’m fine,” she exasperated with her eyes wide in amazement.
“Would you like anything else tonight?”
She played in my dreads as she admired my body with her free hand. “Can you make me another Lemon Drop?”
At the bar, earlier that evening, she and her best friend had indulged in the drinks I served them. As a bartender, I met beautiful women by the dozens every night. Most of the faces were familiar, and on occasion, tourists showed up.
“Your Lemon Drop is coming right up.” I eased off her.
When she smiled at me, I thought she was stunning, too cute for words. I thought that about her all night long. Before I brought her home from Club Vaisseau, I admired her honey-colored skin, medium-brown, doe-like eyes, and long dark hair from the other side bar.
I recognized any type of freak, regardless of what type of clothing she wore. This one was so freaky that she allowed me to sex her before even knowing her name. Typical for me, though. One-night stands weren’t a rare event on my calendar. I needed many women to quench my desire for sex the way quarts of blood satisfied my hunger.
I draped my bare body in a bathrobe. “Mademoiselle, pardon me, but what’s your name?”
She giggled sexily, yet I could tell that she, too, felt embarrassed about not exchanging that information earlier. “Chantal.”
“You’re really beautiful, Chantal. It’s been a pleasure having your company with me tonight.”
She blushed and stammered, “T-t-t-hanks.”
“Don’t move, and um, keep those clothes off.” Holding up my index finger, I signaled to give me one second to go downstairs to make her another Lemon Drop.
Chantal giggled again, the way a schoolchild did when told a dirty joke. She didn’t have to play the shy role anymore. I had already gotten what I needed from her, but my mere presence had her still feeling shy. Hell, it made all women act that way whenever they were around me. That was my gift and my curse—to capture a woman effortlessly.
I swiftly made her sweet lemon concoction, and was back upstairs in a flash.
“You move fast,” she said with a bright smile.
All vampires moved fast. However, she hadn’t noticed my fangs because I hid them well around humans. I only revealed them when I was ready to drink. By then, the hypnotic state masked my intentions.
I handed her the Lemon Drop while my eyes peered down at her curvy body.
“Thank you, Mr. …?”
I hadn’t told her my name, either.
“Please, call me Legend.”
“Legend? Is that your real name?”
“It’s the only name I know.”
She stared at me oddly, as she took a few sips from the glass. “I have to pee.” As she got up from the bed, her thick hips grazed against me.
I grunted lowly, while falling back on the bed, feeling happy with having her over for the night.
When she finished relieving her bladder, she asked, “Legend?”
“What’s up, Chantal?”
“How come your skin is so cold?” She stood in front of the bed with a look of bewilderment.
“My skin is cold?” I repeated as if I didn’t know that I wasn’t warm-blooded.
Warm blood hadn’t run through me for over a century.
She hesitated as her eyes glanced over me nervously. I could tell her mind was trying to put the pieces together and recollect if she noticed any other strange things throughout the evening.
Chantal had come to the bar with her friend, and whether or not they were aware, it was no accident how they’d ended up in Pigalle Palace or even in the Red Light District, for that matter. The Red Light District was devoted to prostitution and other illegal, immoral behavior. The Red Light District was heavy in sexual acts.
Therefore, our meeting was no accident.
The nickname of our district was “Pig Alley”; Pigalle was pronounced that way, even with a French accent, and pigs tended to wallow in all the filthiness that went on. Whether pussy was bought, sold, or given freely, it was our haven nonetheless.
Pigalle Palace, known for vampires and was in the Red Light District, known for sex, and in Montmartre. Montmartre was popular for its nightclubs. Many got confused about the sections, but they were indeed separate subdivisions of Paris, but when one heard of one section, they heard of it all.
Our popular thriving nightclub, Vaisseau, was one of the many notorious hotspots. Pigalle Palace was an epicenter of sizzling sex shops, erotic peep shows, and dazzling strip clubs. It was an adults-only, X-rated pleasurable adventure for the more risqué crowd and home to one of Paris’ most famous cabarets, Moulin Rouge.
This was our playground and Chantal was having a ball. In the back of her mind, she had already known what I was and that excited her.
Speechless for a second, she finally replied, “Now that I’m thinking about it, from the moment your lips touched mine at the club, I noticed. I noticed something different about you all night. I’ve heard many things about Pigalle Palace. Let me say that you were the one that catapulted my curiosity further. I finally got to touch one up close and very personal.”
“One of what?”
A quick frown appeared on her face, yet she continued, “Are you going to bite me now?”
What had me confused was that she looked as if she were disappointed that I hadn’t taken a bite out of her yet. “You want me to bite you?”
Chantal straddled me and ran her feather-feeling hands across my chest. “Am I not worthy enough?”
“Are you not worthy enough to be killed?”
Her eyes widened with fear. “Oh no, no, no. I don’t want you to kill me. Are you going to kill me? I hope you don’t kill me…”
“What do you want from me, Chantal?”
“I want you to turn me into what it is that you are.”
The way her eyes sparkled when she suggested such a ridiculous thing made me stare deeply into her eyes. I wasn’t going to hypnotize or compel her. I simply didn’t know many humans that wanted to become what we were. Hell, we didn’t want to become what we were, but we had no other choice.