I have been following you for days, well, nights to be more accurate.
Let's just call it weeks.
I know all your habits.
Your favorite spots for a late night snack or a drink.
You usually go out alone, but I've seen you a few times with friends.
I've seen you drunk, but never with anyone who might be romantically or even sexually involved with you.
Because you seem like the type to value physicality over emotional bonding.
At least once the sun goes down, along with your inhibitions.
I've tracked your routine paths around this place, and the more I watch you, the more I want you.
It's not that I need you now, I could have anyone I want.
I'm not nearly as picky when it comes to feeding.
I have my pick, sometimes two or three carefree young people in one night.
No, this is for something else entirely.
This is about sex.
This is about seduction, getting you to trust me.
I want to get you off, and then I want to take you completely.
I want to see how that orgasmic glaze in your eyes disappears, replaced by dawning fear.
You like a little pain with your pleasure, I know that by now.
It shows in the way you dig your nails into your palms when you are leaning against the wall at the bar, too drunk to dance anymore.
In the way you hug yourself too tightly against a gentle breeze.
In the way you bite your lip too hard when you are with someone you find attractive.
I want to take that and use it against you.
I want to kiss you hard, rough, dominant.
I'll nip it on your jaw and start to kiss your neck, finding your butts without even trying.
My tongue will flit over your skin, leaving a trail of wetness that turns cold and makes you shiver.
I'll suck lightly, as if I don't want to leave a mark for you to be embarrassed about in the morning.
Oh, but once I get my hands on you, you'll beg me to be rough.
You'll tell me to go harder, to suck a hickey for you to be proud of.
You'll get so worked up, you'll say for me to bite you.
And I will.
At first it will be almost imminent, but I'll only be teasing you, making you beg for it.
Of course you'll be scratching me and tugging my hair by the time I finally give you what you want.
My teeth will rest against your skin at first.
I'll put a gentle pressure there, along with my lips, and I'll suck a bit of flesh into my mouth,
trapping it lightly between my front teeth.
As you groan and sigh and want for more, I'll bite down harder.
I'll troll your neck, leaving dimples and kisses all over, until I invariably find my way back to the thick pulsing vein.
I'll lick it first, concentrating the pleasure there, making you arch your head back to give me all the excess I need.
My hands, cradling the back of your head, will suck and tease, until you're bucking your hips into mine, until you can't take it anymore.
That's when I'll get what I need.
The points of my fangs will pierce your skin, cutting perfect little holes directly above that rushing blood.
You'll only feel a little sting, unless I'm in a particularly rough mood, of course.
Then, with my lips back on you, I'll suck again.
This time, drying blood.
Your warmth will gush over my tongue, coppery and sweet, while your eyes flatter with bliss.
Your knees might even buckle, but don't worry, I'll have you in a fast grip.
I won't let you go back, won't let a drop of blood spill anywhere that's not between my lips.
I'll tongue the punctures, making you moan, making your heart race again suddenly, bringing more hot liquid into my mouth in a burst.
That's when you'll feel the fear.
I'll take as much as I want, until you can hardly move.
With each swallow, I'll feel a new spot of energy deep within me.
My own skin will get warmer, until I've taken all of it from you.
You'll feel my hands, my skin on yours.
I'll be burning up against your cooling flesh.
You'll feel faint, woozy, unable to think.
I'll lay you down, bend over you, fast to get you comfortable.
You'll trust me again.
I'll take care of you, and what you need is a drink.
You'll put your lips when I tell you, expecting cool, refreshing water.
But once I lay you down, I'll slice my wrist.
A fine blade, home to perfection, will open a length that fits your mouth perfectly.
I'll press my skin to your lips, and blood will pour over them.
You'll swallow it easily, without thinking.
Gulp after gulp, thirsty like a wanderer in the desert.
You'll begin to stop shivering as your skin regains its former warmth.
You'll breathe easily as your heart picks up.
Soon enough you'll feel quenched, and push my arm away.
When you finally open your eyes, you will be mine.
A slave, and a partner.
A brand new vampire.
