The Second Bite

Max scrambled back. He checked the pockets of his suit jacket for something to ward her off or fight her with. Empty.

He turned. He ran.

She laughed.

-Run, little mouse.

She vanished into the dark. She reappeared in his path. Mist and shadow.

-The chase makes the blood sweet, she said.

Max slid to a halt. He grabbed a handful of grave dirt. He threw it.

She hissed. She clawed at her eyes.

-You dare?

-A name, Max barked. Give me a name.

She wiped the grit away. Her face was twisted.

-Buffy.

She lunged. She had him by the throat.

-You made this personal.

They hit the ground. Cold earth. Dead leaves. She slammed him back against a granite angel. The impact rattled his teeth.

-Struggle all you want, she said. It pumps the blood right to the surface.

Her fangs found the old wounds. She bit down.

Max gasped. The fear turned dark and hot. He reached out blindly. His hands found the silk of her dress. He shoved. Buttons popped. They flew into the dark like plastic hail.

Buffy pulled back. She looked down at her exposed chest. She smiled.

-Is that how you want to play? she asked. Go ahead. Make it interesting.

Max grabbed her. High school wrestling. A desperate memory. He tried to work her to the ground.

She let him. She laughed. She used his momentum against him. She flipped him.

Max hit the damp earth. Buffy was on top of him instantly. She straddled his hips.

-Cute, she said. But I’ve been doing this for centuries.

Max bucked. He tried to throw her off. He only managed to break his belt buckle. The metal clinked against the stone.

Buffy looked down.

-Oh, look at that, she said. Even your clothes are surrendering.

Her cold hand slid down. She tugged at his pants.

Max tried to crawl backward. He kicked. His pants tangled around his ankles. He rolled onto his back.

She was there. She pinned him again. Her dress was open. Her skin was white in the moonlight now.

-You’re not going anywhere, she whispered.

Max felt the betrayal of his own body. Fear and arousal. He hated it. He couldn't stop it.

She felt him harden against her thigh. Her eyes gleamed.

-Your body knows, she said. It screams yes.

She reached down. Her fingers were freezing. She wrapped them around him.

Max whimpered. He turned his face away. He thought of the grave nearby.

-No, he sobbed.

-Shhh, she soothed. She stroked him. A cruel, steady rhythm. Let me ruin you.

She lifted her hips. She guided him in.

He gasped. She was cold and dead inside but it was hot too.

-So warm, she moaned. Her head fell back. So alive.

Max stared up at the black sky. The fear, the guilt seeped out. All that was left was rage.

He growled.

He grabbed her waist. He surged up. He flipped her over.

Buffy hit the ground hard. Shock flashed in her eyes.

Max pinned her. He drove back into her. Hard. Punishing.

-Make it stop, he groaned.

He thrust again from behind. Slamming her into the dirt.

-Liar, she hissed. Her legs buckled. You want to break me.

-I want to punish you, Max grunted as he pushed.

He pulled her hair. She arched her back.

-Yes, she screamed. Hate me!

He leaned down. He found the soft spot on her neck.

He bit.

His teeth sank in. Deep. He tore at the skin.

Buffy screamed. Her body convulsed. She tightened around him.

-Mark me! she shrieked.

Max rode out the climax. He sucked the cold blood from her neck as he poured his life into her.

He collapsed.

He lay there for a long time. Breathing hard. The taste of blood in his mouth.

Buffy went limp beneath him.

-You marked me, she whispered.

Max pulled back. He wiped his bloody mouth. He looked at her.

She touched her neck. Her eyes were glazed.

-Now you're truly mine.