He Took Me in the Night

Chapter XI: Caressed

"No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be." -Bram Stoker, Dracula

Chapter XI: Caressed

I take his cold hand in mine again and stand beside him. I look up at him, my heart thrumming quickly like a hummingbird's wing, and feel my lips pull into a shy smile. His grey eyes are still smoldering slightly from the rush of lust we both received, but he seems genuinely calm and thoughtful. For now I feel safe with him and I'm even looking forward to our date together.

As we walk through the long, velvet-lined corridors, we pass many vampires. Their glowing red eyes follow my every move and they look between my master and I with curious glances. If it weren't for the protectiveness that suddenly came over the man beside me, I would probably be screaming and running for the hills. But he is beside me and I know he won't let anything happen to me.

We pass the empty Throne Room and I can't help the shiver that slides down my spine. My mother and I both have terrible memories in that room and there's no way I would ever forget the picture of The Princess of Night hanging above Lord Stoker's golden seat. It was so eerie how closely I resembled her...

As soon as that thought creeps up on my mind I instantly feel my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. How could I arouse my master if I looked like his deceased mother? That's seriously creepy!

My master looks down at me and a frown crosses his flawless features. It makes him look so cute I almost want to swoon. He seems really worried by my expression of confusion, but I don't dare ask him the truth until we're outside and away from all the other people in the castle.

We step through white, glass French doors and into the cool night air. I can see the full moon beaming milky white above our heads and the stars twinkling like fairy lights in the dark sky. It's such a majestic sight that I almost forgot about the perverted prospect of my master liking me because I look like his dead mother.

Key word here, almost.

"The moon is so beautiful tonight," I whisper.

"Yes it is," he says, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulls my back into his chiseled stomach. He rests his chin on my shoulder and nudges his nose into my black hair. "But not as fair as you," he whispers cold air into my ear.

I swallow nervously. "How can you say that?" I ask, my voice wavering in panic.

Right now, as he holds me and kisses the side of my face like I mean everything to him, all I can think about is how wrong this is. I have goosebumps all over my skin and my stomach is churning away nauseatingly. I also have a throbbing headache all of a sudden.

"Because it is the undeniable truth," he says, seemingly unaware of my total discomfort.

"How can you touch me like this when I look like your dead mother?" I scream, pulling out of his arms and taking a large, exaggerated step away from him. I fold my arms under my breasts and I frown up at him.

I quickly prepare myself for him to get angry again, maybe even strike me across the face like he did not long ago, but instead he just throws back his head and laughs like I said the most amusing thing he's ever heard in the five hundred years he has lived.

"Don't laugh at me!" I yell, hating how patronising he's being. I'm so frustrated that I even stomp my foot. Okay, I'll admit, I'm being extremely immature about this, but so is he. He's so damn hot and annoying I don't know what to think.

My master stops laughing, but his grey eyes are still swimming with humor. "You sure are silly, Rose," he says, taking my hand and pulling me back to hold me in his arms. I didn't return his hug. "You don't even know what my mother looks like," he continues, as he begins to stroke my hair with his cold hand. "You are entirely unique and have a beauty all of your own," he says strongly.