“At the Burying Point”
by Melissa Hogle
He slipped through the Salem masses, letting their ebb and flow carry him across the center of celebration. Salty ocean and sticky-sweet caramel wafted above the countless costumed bodies. Street performers breathed fire while preachers fervently warned of the Devil. Samuel passed kiosks, headed down side streets. All he sensed was her and the closer he got, the more intense her presence became.
Strong hands pulled at his gut. …I’ve missed you… Her voice tempted across the waves. …Oh, how I’ve missed you…
“Ammon,” Always his last name, whispered as if he was the god.
Breath caught, blood rushed, as she came into sight. The man shifted to gain bearings, self-control. Skin flushed. She looked the same as when they met, as he imagined she’d looked alive and known only as “High Seas Cecilia”.
“I was starting to think you wouldn’t come.” She slid from the stone wall into his arms. His heart pounded into her, she inhaled his scent. “That I had gotten the wrong day, wrong season.” Time did not move for her as it did him. A month was a minute, a year, a day.
“No.” He muttered into windswept hair. “I’m here.” Aged ten years while she’d aged none.
Tongue peeked between teeth in her sigh-hiss. “Missed you…so much.”
“For the best.”
They slipped over the wall, were swallowed by the private darkness of the cemetery.
Samuel smelled oceans of wild blood when she flashed in close, knocked him back into a centuries old tomb. “Ce-” Lips crashed, silenced his mouth and mind.
Waves roared in shared breathing, tides turned with tongues. A symbiosis was created, a passing of air that suggested, without him, she’d cease completely. He pulled back only when there was a dizzying risk of drowning. His heart raced against her, he panted, but felt nothing in return. No heartbeat. No true breath. She could undo him, but he barely made an impact.
“Sorry.” He sighed, licked the smooth memory of her from his lips.
“You…overwhelm me, wonderfully, but I…” He chuckled. “I can barely keep up with you.”
Chilled hands held his face, fingers traced faint wrinkles. “Without you I’m just a parasite.” Her lips brushed his. “A zombie.” She nuzzled against him, inhaled his exhale. “You give me life.”
His next kiss was confident, turned insistent. Moan revved to growl as her tongue forked to wrap around his. Massaged, stroked, teased all the ways it could pleasure his fast hardening cock. That wasn’t what he wanted though, not now. Now he wanted her, to be inside her, to give her the rush she forever gave him.
They worked each other’s belts, buttons, and zippers. Spun along the edge of the tomb, stripping what they could, until he lifted her up. Her bared legs wrapped, thighs tightened. With every roll of her hips, he replied in kind.
Nails raked shoulders and left stinging excitement in their wake. Tension built in chest, at swelling cock, as she tugged sandy curls. Free hand brushed darker curls and his tongue nicked against her fangs. The rush barreled through him, he broke the kiss in search of salt-glinted skin. Neck, shoulder, chest, where he nipped breasts.
She took him in hand, stroked. “Ah-!” Voice pitched at impale, soothed out into a hiss that matched his groan.
There was always a moment, a single shock, of cold. It stopped his breath, but not his desire. Long, slow, thrusts teased as mouth ghosted over her flesh. “Show me.” He shifted to look at her, kissed her lips. He told her she was beautiful, praised her name, prayed to her. “Please…” Another kiss. “Let me see.”
Downcast eyes looked up; once round pupils were slit vertically and irises shone like lightning in a storm. This was the purest she could be, with him still alive. Aroused, primal, woman and beast both. She locked ankles, pulled him in deeper.
Her head dropped into his shoulder, twisted to the crook of his neck, and he imagined he’d finally overwhelmed her. Hoped it, even knowing the risks that came. Cool breath and sharp fangs ran across jugular until he shivered. “It’s okay…”
Hips snapped, claws drew red lines from ass to shoulders. Cecilia turned her face away, clenched jaw and let out a near pained groan.
“It’s okay…” In the end, he trusted her, even if she didn’t trust herself. He slipped a hand between them, felt himself slide in and out, and curled his fingers to brush her clit.
Cecilia gasped, whipped head back to bury fangs. They broke through layers of skin, popped open his vein and her heart began to beat in time with the life pumping into her mouth. Now she heated, flushed, sweated. She shuddered inside and out.
Gratefulness mixed into Samuel’s arousal as his love moaned low and long into his flesh. His thrusts sped; her fingers took over at her clit. “Fu-” The tightness around his cock grew demanding, juices came in waves across his length. “Ah!” He knew, once her teeth left, he wouldn’t last long. Even now he sensed his energy fading to bliss.
He fell over, cock spilling heat. She gripped the tomb’s edge, her teeth clenched with the rest of her as orgasm took hold. She pulled back fangs so he spilled inside her once again. The stone in her hand cracked, crumbled.
Every last bit of strength was used to stay upright, conscious, as he near collapsed against her. Tears rolled down his face, blood down neck and chest, but he smiled in the ecstasy of pleasure. His body cooled, numbed.
“Drink,” She cooed.
He knew what she offered, but turned it down. “Just…hold me.” He remained inside her as darkness took hold. He would recover in her arms, not by her blood.
Melissa Hogle has a Master’s in English, B.A. in Psychology, and a history of writing about true crime and pop culture. She can often be found in her own mind or on her twitter at @wickednerdery Her past non-fiction writings can be read at her blog, wickednerdery.com