Page 136 of Vampire so Virtuous
“Yes, I like it. I have seen ballet before.” Belle had taken him on occasion, to educate him on art and culture.
“Have you seen it performed like this?” she asked.
“I confess I have not,” he said. “Usually, the performers were clothed.”
She laughed, a carefree sound. “Do you like it more with their costumes, or more like this?”
He pretended to ponder. “Both have their appeal.”
She turned away with a flounce to reach for her discarded blanket, but he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back into his lap. She gasped at the suddenness of it.
“On balance,” he said, kissing her shoulder, “I think I prefer your dancing.”
At first, she resisted. Then she relaxed in his arms, tilting her head to the side and brushing her hair from her neck. “Do you hunger for me still?”
“I fed yesterday.”
“Yes,” she said. “But I want you to take from me again.”
He had grown used to her frequent requests, and it no longer bothered him. “Very well.”
But as he brushed his lips against her neck, she pulled away. “Wait,” she said. “Not here. Not on the chair. Will you take from me… in the bed?”
“Is that more comfortable?”
She turned in his lap, took his hand in hers, and placed it on her bare breast. “It is not that sort of comfort I seek, Antoine. Feed from me while you are inside me? Please?”
He couldn’t refuse her.
*
“Do you feel her life essence?” Belle asked.
“I don’t understand,” Antoine replied, uncomfortable to have Éliane naked in his arms while Belle was there.
They were in the living room at Belle’s request. She had knocked on his door and entered without waiting for a reply. Her eyes had flashed a darker red when she saw Éliane asleep against his side, covered only by the corner of the blanket draped carelessly across her hips.
Belle had turned away, summoning themnow.
“Focus on the mark. You feel how her heart has slowed?”
“Yes,” he said, shoulders stiff, his stomach knotted with tension.
“It is because you have fed too much,” Belle said. “She will take longer to recover.”
Antoine said nothing. He had only fed so much because Belle had told him to. Éliane lay as if asleep again, her body too limp to hold itself, and so he did that for her.
Belle rose and came over to them, slipping an arm around Éliane’sshoulders from behind, her hand cupping the girl’s breast. “Concentrate on the mark,” she told him. “Feel what happens as I feed.”
Antoine swallowed hard and did as she bid.
Belle’s fangs pierced her neck, on the opposite side from where he had fed. She watched his face as she took pull after pull, while through his mark he sensed Éliane’s heart slow, then stutter.
At last, Belle drew away. “You feel it still?”
“Yes.” It was an effort to get the word out.
“This is the limit,” she said, licking her fangs clean. “You must not take beyond this point, or you risk consuming dead blood.”
