Chapter 13

Nothing gets me energized for a workday like a big cup of blood in the morning, and on those sluggish, meh days when I'm tempted to climb back under the covers, I treat myself to some AB negative. It's the tastiest blood of all, likely because it's the rarest type. Quincy thinks he could switch the stickers with a bag of O positive, and I wouldn't know the difference, but I don't believe him. It's more savory, somehow. It's also the most expensive, so I only bust it out in dire circumstances. Today is one of those days, because Kyan has turned me into a cat in heat. I can't keep my hands off him, which is extremely inconvenient because he's always busy and most of the time we spend together is at the office, where I'm expected to keep my hands to myself.

It's not fair, and since I haven't had the opportunity to get him naked and blow his mind, I stayed up until dawn with my hands all over myself. Now I'm tired and cranky and horny, and that's a problematic combination that only AB negative can solve.

I pour myself a heaping mugful in my oversized goth unicorn mug and scroll through Instagram as I try to wake up.

"Bleh!" I squeak in horror after taking a sip. No. No, no, no. This isn't right. I check the blood bag to make sure it's AB negative and not expired. My stomach drops when I see the blank checkbox next to the word "Suppressant."

I call Quincy immediately. He sounds groggy when he answers, as if I woke him up.

"Quince, I-I think you sold me the wrong bag of AB negative. Or… or… this one was missed in your final quality check."

Silence. And then, "Why? What happened?"

"The bag I'm looking at right now…the suppressant box isn't checked."

"Fuck," he mutters quietly. "Okay. Naomi, you're gonna be fine. It's not a big deal. I'm coming to your place right now with two free replacement bags. You just need to lie low for twelve hours and it'll wear off. Call in sick. Don't leave the trailer, okay?"

"Call in sick?" I reply. "Kyan knows I'm a vampire. That won't make any sense to him."

"So? It's not like he's going to fire you for playing hooky because he knows you can't get sick."

"I'm not worried about that. What if he calls my bluff and wants to come over to see what's really wrong?"

He sighs, then softens his tone to one filled with empathy. "I know you haven't been through this yet, but I have. Plenty of times. It's not as bad as you think."

"But…" My breaths start coming out short and fast. "It's not how I want to be. I'm trying to be better. We're trying to be better. It feels like it'd be too primal, too much like them."

"I know. I get it."

I take a step toward my bed and the room tilts. "Oh fuck. I think I'm having a panic attack. Is that possible? I thought that was a human problem I left behind." Kyan is probably getting ready for work at this very moment. He'll be on his way over soon. "I can't let him see me, Quincy. How do I keep him from coming here?"

"All right, hang up with me and text him. Tell him you can't come to work today and you can't go into details, but you'll be there tomorrow. I'm on my way now with the replacement bags."

"Okay," I tell him, trying to focus on the lightning-shaped crack in the wall next to the fridge as I steady my breathing. "I'll do that."

Hey boss! Sooo I'm really sorry for the short notice, but I can't make it into work today. I still get sick time, right? ????

Legally, he can't take that away from me just because I'm a vampire, can he? Ugh, I'm sure he can. It's not like I'd be able to dispute it with the truth. Okay, keep it vague, but don't lie. A lie will worry him, and he'll come over. Don't worry him.

I'm feeling under the weather, so I'll be using one of those for the day. No biggie. I'll give you the details tomorrow, which is when I'll return to work, bright and early.

Then I remember what today is.

Oh, and good luck at the meeting with the buyer. Knock ‘em dead!

Quincy shows up at my door right after I hit send. "You text him?" he asks as he hands me the bags.

I nod. "Hopefully he buys it."

"Just chill. Everything will be cool by tomorrow."

Then I feel it. The flicker. Soon to be an inferno. "Okay, you need to bounce before shit gets weird. Thanks for the free bags. I'll talk to you later."

He rushes out the door, giving me a supportive thumbs-up, and I can only hope he's right.

My phone rings, and my jaw clenches when I see that it's Kyan.

"What's wrong?" he asks as soon as I pick up. His voice is thick with concern and, somehow, an entire octave lower than his normal voice. My clit throbs at the sound. "Did something happen between you and Elaine?"

"No, nothing like that."

I have no idea what to tell him, so I sit there on the edge of my bed with my mouth hanging open. Then I catch my reflection in the mirror on my dresser and I start wondering how big Kyan's dick is and how wide I'll have to open my mouth to fit him all in.

"So then, what?"

There's clearly no way around this, and he's not going to buy the sick thing, so I might as well be honest. He must have weird bodily shit happen to him that humans wouldn't understand, right?

"It's silly, really," I begin, trying to laugh it off as casually as I can. "Um, so vampires are an extremely passionate breed." Ugh, already off to a terrible start. "Sex is very much built into our biology. We sort of, uh, need to have a lot of it. A lot more than humans, and especially when we drink blood."

Kyan listens intently, but I can't see his face, so I have no concept of how he's processing this information. I just know that I'm more embarrassed trying to explain it than I've ever been about anything. It's worse than when my period seeped through my pants on my very first date. Another core memory directly tied to blood, I now realize.

"Okay…" he finally says.

"Part of the motivation to maintain the Sipper lifestyle is to not be driven by primal instincts. We don't want our thirst to hold us hostage, you know? We want to live normal lives. As normal as possible."

He sighs. "Naomi, I'm not following."

Clearly, he's getting impatient and even more confused because I'm doing a shit job and oh my god. The walls of my pussy contract, and the long blue vibrator next to my pillow catches my eye. Losing control and running out of time, I blurt, "This morning I drank blood that didn't have a libido suppressant. My friend Quincy gets the blood for me. He's a chemist who owns a Dunkin' Donuts, by the way. Good guy. Anyway, he usually adds the suppressant into my bags, but he forgot, and now I want to fuck everything that moves, so I need to remain in isolation until this blood leaves my system, which should be in twelve hours."

Kyan goes quiet.

I really wish he FaceTimed me, so I could get an idea of what's going on in his head, because this silence feels like a knife through my intestines. Then I'd also get to see those full lips of his, and that chiseled jaw line. Images of his bare, blue chest and black tattoos fill my mind, and I have to swallow a groan that threatens to escape me.

Eventually, he says, "Okay, wait. You're telling me that when vampires drink blood that doesn't have a libido suppressant added to it, they need to have sex?" There's no judgment in his voice like I expected. He sounds curious.

"Yes."

"And you drank some of this blood today."

"Uh-huh."

"Why wouldn't you want that?" he asks.

I don't understand the question. "What do you mean?"

"Why would any vampire actively avoid that sensation? The need to fuck every time you feed."

"It sounds hot when you put it like that," I tell him. His train of thought makes sense. At first, hearing it sounds like a fun existence, but it gets old after a couple days. I need him to understand the reality of it. "How many meals do you typically eat in a day?"

"At least three. Sometimes four. It depends on how busy I am."

"Okay. What about snacks?"

"I love snacks."

"Who doesn't? How many of those do you have?"

"Um," he starts, and I can picture him twisting his mouth to the side, making a face like he's not impressed. "Probably three."

"Okay. And what about beverages?"

"Oh, I don't know. A lot."

"Right." Time to bring it home. "Imagine whenever you ate a meal, had a snack, drank a coffee, had a sip of water––anytime you consumed anything, you had the overwhelming desire to fuck the closest person to you. So overwhelming that willpower isn't an option. It's gone. You don't have a choice in it because this is how you're designed."

I pause. "Would you want to live like that?"

"No." He chuckles, the sound a mix of nervousness and mild disgust. "No, that sounds exhausting and inconvenient."

"Exactly!" I reply, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Ahh," I mutter, embarrassed. I'm so horned up that even sitting down is too much friction. I'm already teetering over the edge. At this rate, I'll come just sitting still.

"I don't under–– h-how? How do vampires get anything done?"

Typical Kyan. His mind goes straight to productivity, and I find that completely adorable. Such a boss. "Most of them don't," I tell him. "It's another reason Sippers get teased. They think we're prudes because we don't want to spend at least ten hours a day fucking other vampires who happen to be close by."

"Wow." He says the word a few more times, still in awe. "What did you do before you had access to the blood with the suppressant?"

"I'd limit myself to one drink a day," I explain, wincing at how awful that was. "It was hard. My throat would get scratchy and so dry it hurt. I'd try to make sure my one meal was big enough to keep me full for as long as possible, then I'd lock myself in my trailer with a few rechargeable vibrators and swap them out whenever one died."

"Are you…in pain?"

"No, I'm fine. I promise." I don't want him to worry. He has such an important day ahead of him and this is just a sucky part of what I am. "Go to work. Crush that meeting. If there's anything I can do from here to help, let me know."

"Okay."

He sounds genuinely sad that he won't see me today, which makes me want to straddle his face. Who knew Crankenstein had such big feelings?

"Good luck," I tell him.

We end the call and I get back in bed, ready to spend the day too turned on to function. Instead of reaching for my vibrator, I scroll through the latest smutty romance on my Kindle app.

About an hour later, I'm deep in the latest Sarah Jaeger novel, and the two main characters are just about to tear each other's clothes off when there's a loud, angry knock at my door.

It better not be Elaine. I'm so not in the mood for her bullshit.

Steeling my spine, I open it to find Kyan holding what looks like a plastic container filled with chicken soup.

"Kyan, what are you doing here?" Holy Lillith, he looks good. His light brown hair is mussed, and he's wearing a light gray button-up with a dark gray and maroon checkered tie. The black dress pants he's wearing are tailored to perfection. They're tight enough for me to get a glimpse of the impressively long and thick cock pressed against his thigh, but only if I really look, which I am. They're not so tight that it's obscene. And his tie is loose, as if he's been tugging on it all morning.

I don't understand why he brought soup, and I don't care.

My pussy aches at the sight of him.

"You shouldn't be here," I mutter through shallow breaths, taking a step back. If I get a whiff of that sandalwood deodorant he wears, I won't be responsible for my actions.

He lifts the soup in front of me as he steps inside my trailer. Uh oh.

"I brought soup."

"I can see that." But why?

His gaze darts between my mouth and the soup, and he looks distinctly uncomfortable. "You took a sick day. When humans are sick, they eat soup."

Okay, now he's starting to sound like he's concussed.

"Right, but I'm not human."

He looks at the soup for a long moment. "Fine. Fuck the soup," he says, then tosses it aside. The container's top flies off when it hits the floor, sending a pile of noodles and beige broth all over my kitchen.

I throw up my hands. "Kyan, what the he––"

His kiss is bruising and hungry. I lean into it, at first, but remember my current state and jerk away.

"No, Kyan. We can't."

Chest heaving, he steps closer, trying to remove the distance I just created. "Why not? You need this, and I want to give it to you."

Ooh boy, do I want him to give it to me. I want it more than anything, but not like this.

Across the room, my phone lights up with a text I can't read, but I do notice the time. "Because you should be at the office, getting ready for your big meeting. Stop worrying about me."

"I went, and I was fucking miserable there without you," he says. His pupils are blown out, and I can see the curve of his spectacular pecs through his shirt. If I had a working heart, those words would stop it from beating.

I want him to unmask for me and remove all the barriers between our bodies. Then I want to hold onto his horns and ride him until I black out. But should I? He might want this now, but won't he regret missing the meeting once our bodies are sated? I don't want to be the reason this meeting goes poorly or why Thea is mad. She already suspects something's amiss. It's obvious.

"That might be one of the most romantic things I've ever heard, but we really shouldn't. I'm serious."

He lowers his head, still holding my gaze, but now he's looking at me through those long eyelashes of his. I hear a low rumble start deep in his chest as he takes a predatory step in my direction. I back up, trying to summon restraint but also desperate to be caught by him.

"Kyan," I say, warning clear in my tone. "I'm not myself right now. I can't control my impulses. You really should leave." My resolve is weakening. He can tell. The subtle tremor in my voice lights a fire in his eyes.

"Are you conscious?"

Is he kidding? "Yeah."

He takes another step. "Do you want this?"

I swallow. "Y-yeah."

"Will you regret it tomorrow?"

"I mean…"

"Tell me the truth, Naomi." He's got me. He knows it.

I shake my head.

There's less than an inch between us. His breath is warm and minty as it fans my face.

He strokes a finger across my cheek. "Do you consent to this?"

I nod.

A muscle in his jaw ticks, and I want to trace the movement with my tongue. "I need to hear it."

In a trembling whisper, "Yes."

For what feels like a long time, his gray eyes dart between mine, back and forth. Back and forth, as if he's waiting for me to take it back. When I don't, he cups my face in his hands and crushes his lips to mine.

We become a frenzy of hands and mouths, never getting quite close enough to satisfy our crippling need for one another. At one point, he pulls away, and I whimper at the loss of his soft, perfect mouth.

"I need to tell you something," he says, panting heavily. "Before we do this."

Oh no. Please don't ruin the moment. Whatever it is, I'm cool with it. Tell me later, I want to say. I settle on, "Okay."

"I like," he begins, then pauses, looking more vulnerable than I've ever seen him, "to be dominated."

Did I…? Did he really just say that? I'm not dreaming, am I?

"You do?" I ask, needing to confirm it was a real sentence that came out of his mouth and not my horny brain feeding me my most recent fantasy as an illusion.

He nods. "I don't want control. Not in the bedroom. I have it pretty much everywhere else, but here, like this, I want to be controlled."

Never have I felt so relieved and so excited at the same moment. I giggle as I tug him down by his collar and give him a big, smacking kiss. "Today's your lucky day, boss man, because in here, I like to be in control."

He sucks in a breath as his nostrils flare. "You do?"

"Mm hm."

The smile he wears is boyish and endearing as I tug him by the tie toward the bed. When the backs of my thighs bump against the edge, I undo the knot and place it gently on the comforter. "I have plans for this."

He resumes the kiss, growling whenever our lips part to remove an article of clothing. At some point, I'm able to move his large frame around until his back is to the bed, and I gently push at his chest. I can see the blurred shape of his dick in my periphery, and my throat has already started to dry up at the sheer size, but I don't want to ruin the surprise. He needs to be in his natural state before I take it all in. Not some disguise in order to be accepted by the masses. Right now, I need the real Kyan.

"Unmask for me."

Slowly, black horns appear to grow out of his hairline, and his skin fades from a pasty white shade to shimmering shades of blue. I don't let my eyes travel all the way down until the unmasking is complete.

I refuse to rush this moment, as I study the sweeping black tattoos that cover his shoulders and curl around his arms. There are solid lines, both thick and thin, and dotted sections that overlap the former with incredible precision. My fangs extend as I move down his chest and reach the peaks and valleys of his many abs––I count ten, and they become even more prominent with each panting breath he takes.

That entrancing V outlining his hips takes my eyes all the way down to the main event and…wow. There have been many sleepless nights trying to complete the image of a naked Kyan in my head, and somehow, the reality is even better.

It's about as long as my forearm, with a fat mushroom head and more than one protruding vein that I plan to trace with my tongue. It rests against his stomach, twitching every now and then. Ridges cover his length, and saliva fills my mouth at the sight of them spiraling around him to the very bottom. They're a darker shade of blue than the rest of him, and the heavy balls that hang between his legs are a matching shade.

What I'm most excited about, however, is the row of eight silver barbells that run along the underside. "A Jacob's ladder?"

He nods.

My boss has a Jacob's ladder. I feel like I just won the penis lottery.

"When did you get this? Why did you get this?"

"Naomi." His voice is a breathy rasp. He doesn't answer my questions, and the information doesn't matter anyway. The expression that he wears can only be described as aching hunger, and I can't wait anymore.

"Do you want a safe word?" I ask, eager to ensure his comfort as we proceed.

It comes to him in an instant. He shoots me a playful smirk. "Soup."

A laugh escapes me. "Soup it is."

Grabbing the tie from the edge of the bed, I crawl up the length of Kyan's seemingly mile-long frame, until I'm straddling his rib cage. "Give me your hands."

He does as he's told, and lifts them above his head, wrists crossed. I keep the tie loose enough that it's not cutting off circulation, but tight enough that he can't slip out and grab me.

"Keep them above or behind your head. You don't touch me until I say you can, and you don't get to come until I allow it. Got it?"

He grunts in agreement, but that's not good enough.

"I need to hear it."

His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows. "Yes."

I scoot backward until my core hovers just above his thighs, and I notice the smooth patch of blue skin where pubes would normally be. He arches into my touch as I wrap my hand around him, his girth making it impossible for my fingers to meet. I lock my gaze onto his as I flatten my tongue and run it along the underside of his cock, moaning as I cross each ridge and barbell, my pussy gushing at the different textures and sensations. When I reach the tip, I lap the pre-come away as it starts to roll down the sides like a melting ice cream cone.

Kyan throws his head back against my headboard with his eyes pinched shut as I move down to his balls. I lick and suck and kiss my way around them as they lay heavy and hot against my tongue.

"Fuck," he says through gritted teeth. "Your mouth."

I don't know if it's a request or a compliment, but I take it as the former.

"That was the plan."

The sounds that fill my trailer are his loud panting breaths and the wet suction of my mouth as I take him in deep. I'd choke before fitting all of him inside, so I go as far down as my gag reflex allows. I swear he grows hotter and bigger by the second, and soon I'm trying to relax my jaw to accommodate him. A strangled moan makes its way up my throat, and he growls in response as he looks down at me.

"Your lips," he whimpers, "I never want them to leave my cock. You look so beautiful like this."

My eyes sting with tears as spit dribbles down my chin, so I can't imagine I look that ravishing, but whatever. He likes the show I'm putting on, and I like the salty taste of his skin. Nothing else matters but our shared pleasure.

Then I change the pace. I go faster, sucking deeper as I stroke him. His hips buck, and my eyes widen when he hits the back of my throat. When I feel his hand grip the back of my head, I go still and release him.

He sucks in a startled breath as his gaze turns anguished.

"No touching," I remind him. "Not yet."

Nodding his apology, he lifts his bound hands above his head and rests them against the headboard.

As I continue lapping at his pierced shaft, I lightly dig my nails into the skin of his chest and drag them down to his hips. His entire body trembles, and knowing I, a plump doctor from Seattle who never had satisfying sex as a human, possess that much control over this humongous alien dragon's pleasure makes me feel like a wanton sex goddess.

I never felt like I had any control in my past relationships––not emotionally and certainly not physically. Or even that I was good at sex. The only thing I was good at was my work, and since becoming a vampire, I don't even have that. Sex got better after I was turned, but this element was still lacking. Wyatt didn't know what to do with me when I tried dominating him, and instead of asking for it directly, I decided to stop sleeping with him altogether, because I was more bored than attracted to him anyway.

But Kyan is giving me a gift right now. A gift I didn't realize would feel so therapeutic until now. I can use him however I wish, and he trusts me enough to let me take the lead. It's humbling.

I kiss a trail along the V, over his hips, and I take time to worship each rippling ab as I crawl up his body. His cock brushes against my folds, and I moan when the top barbell bumps against my clit.

"Go slow," Kyan cautions me as I guide his fat length into my opening, one agonizing centimeter at a time. "I don't want to hurt you."

When I can't hide my wince, Kyan lifts his head in alarm.

"No, it's okay," I say, trying to reassure him. "Just give me a second." There's no way we're stopping here. I finally have the one I want exactly how I want him. His monster dick can stretch my pussy until it snaps for all that I care.

Once the pain dissipates, I take more of him until I'm fully seated. Then I lean back, bracing one hand on his thigh and dropping the other between the swollen lips of my pussy.

The sound that tumbles from his lips is pained as his gaze lands on my clit and the circle I'm drawing around it with my finger.

His hands flex as they press against the knotted tie. I can tell he's losing control and wants to touch me, but I'm not done having my fun yet.

"Kyan," I warn. "You can look, but don't touch."

When I start moving my hips, my tender, submissive boss turns positively feral.