Date:    97-04-18 01:45:47 EDT
From: (Izabela)

Here it is: (Oh, and you have my permission to archive it and put it on the web page. <g>

The Gift of Life
by Izabela Popowicz
Copyright 1997

From the moment I had said yes the tension blanketed the room. The air sizzled and crackled from the electricity of that one word. Yes. I would allow him to do it. To take me and feed himself from my blood. I wanted it as much as he did, though I was as terrified of the prospect as I was excited. Immediately he took one step toward me and I fought to not step back from him. Then he took another step. And another. And another. Closer and closer he came. The space between us vanished and suddenly I could feel the power of him. The power of the vampire within him. It was amazing how he could make me feel his desire and his hunger. As a mortal I knew there was no way I could possibly begin to fathom what the hunger must feel like or how his lust for blood must consume him, but then and there, at that instant, somehow I knew. It was as real to me as the desire I felt for him in return. It was unexplainable. As though a bond had been forged between us just by the sheer will of his thirst.

Slowly, he raised his hand and brushed back the hair from my face. The touch of his fingertips on my skin was exquisite. So light and feathery that it sent a shiver through me, causing goosebumps to spring up along my arms and neck. His eyes, still that brilliant blue of his, were intense. Looking at me with such a lustfulness that it made me painfully self-conscious. Yet, at the same time it made me feel powerful. Powerful in that my blood affected him in that way, made him a slave to me as I was a slave to him. Then, without warning, he took my face in his hand and pulled me toward him, completely closing off the few inches that had remained between us. I felt his thighs against mine, my breasts crushed against his chest and his lips soft and cold against mine. Oh god, how could a kiss so cold burn so hot, I asked myself. I couldn't breathe. I didn't need to breathe. His kiss was so passionate that once again I was overcome by the feeling of how much he wanted to possess me.

When he looked up at me he had changed. His eyes now gold, his fangs fully extended. To see the beast, the vampire, right before me was mesmerizing and exhilarating. I could hardly believe what I saw. His eyes glowed with such an otherworldliness that there was no mistaking the fact that he was not human. The sight of his fangs sent chills down my spine. Without thinking, I reached a hand up to his mouth and caressed his lips. A finger slipped inside and was soon met by one of those long, razor-sharp canines. My hand trembled as I ran my finger along the tip of it, cutting myself purposely. I saw the look of ecstasy on his face as he lost himself in that first taste of blood as it oozed from the cut. As soon as it had finished clotting, he released the finger and moved his gaze down to my neck. It now felt so exposed, so vulnerable under that gaze. I remembered the sharp prick of pain I felt when cutting my finger on his tooth and now thought of that same pain and how it might feel when he bit into the thin flesh of my neck.

His eyes on my neck were soon followed by his lips. He kissed the tender flesh there repeatedly, allowing me to feel the presence of his fangs, then ran his tongue along the line where I imagined the vein that he yearned for lay. As he did this, I heard a growl that seemed to come from the very depth of his soul. The power that emanated from him was intoxicating and I must admit that I'd never felt so alive in my entire life. Every sensation was heightened and so overwhelming that I thought I might faint from the intensity of it. My skin prickled with his touch, my ears drowning from the sound of his growling. My heart was pounding in my chest so that even I could hear it and my face was hot and flushed, so that I felt almost feverish.

With one more deep, feral growl let loose from him, I felt it. The bite. The sharp, searing, white-hot pain of his teeth tearing through my skin and embedding themselves in my neck. I thought I would pass out from it. Then, as quickly as it was there, the pain was gone. Replaced by something else. A sucking sensation. It was so strong, it pulled at me, almost lifting me off my feet. It scared me and I reached my arms around him to pull him tighter to me. I wanted to feel him against me. Feel his body pressed as tightly to me as his mouth was to my neck. The blood was leaving my body very quickly. Being drawn out by him. I felt a small trickle drip down my neck and onto my shoulder. I felt the wetness of the blood as it ran down my skin, the thickness and stickiness of it. Surprisingly enough, the more he pulled at the blood, the more my body wanted to let go of it. I wanted to give myself to him and the sensation of the liquid draining out of me was incredibly erotic. More so than I ever imagined it would be.

Then I saw it, or felt it. I could no longer distinguish between the two. His life. His very soul. The power and depth of it was of epic proportions. The feelings, the images, the thoughts rushed at me, threatening to drown me. Bombarding and overwhelming me. There was so much there. I couldn't digest it all. And it was so profoundly intimate. I knew there was no way I could ever be this close to another being in my life. I wanted to step farther into his world, become even more deeply embedded in his soul. But I couldn't. The heaviness of my body started to pull me back to reality. My arms slipped from around him of their own accord. When I tried to lift them back up, I couldn't move them. They were too dense and weighted from the numbness that seeped through them. My legs soon followed. They buckled beneath me and I couldn't stand on my own any longer. He knew this and picked me up in his arms and lied me down on the bed, never breaking the sucking motion on my neck. When I thought I would lose consciousness, he stopped. Withdrawing his fangs from their holes and pulling away from me, he looked down into my face and I saw my blood still there on his teeth and lips. I wanted so badly to pull him down to me, but it was physically impossible. He had taken too much for me to even be able to move. I realized, though, that it wasn't necessary for me to move or communicate anything to him. He automatically read my thoughts and leaned down into my neck once again to clean and lick the wounds he'd just made.

When he was done, he looked back at me and I saw that he had changed again. I wanted to touch him, but I was still much too weak to move and my arms felt as though they were made of lead and cemented to the bed. Actually, what I really wanted was to be taken by him again. Almost immediately I felt the desire. To be drained again. As weak as I was, my body continued to hunger for him. But how could this be possible? I thought I must be losing my mind. How could I still want it? Knowing it would bring me closer to the edge of death. But there it was. The realization hitting me with a force that stunned me. I couldn't deny it. The feeling was one of pure euphoria. Sheer, utter bliss. My head was spinning, my eyes unable to focus clearly and yet I felt drunk with giddiness. I wished my body could replenish its supply of blood just so I could relive the experience of him drinking it again.

He looked down at me with such awe, honored by this greatest of gifts I'd given to him. And it filled me with immeasurable joy. He promised me he would take care of me, see to it that nothing happened to me, and when the time was right and my body had healed, he would be back, if I wanted him. I don't believe that there was a shadow of a doubt in either of our minds that I would be here when he returned.

The End.