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Chapter 7

I awoke suddenly because of the jostling. My body was bouncing up and down, my stomach taking a beating, and for a moment I had no idea where I was or in what position. I was aware of the cool night surrounding me and the rush of air over my buttocks and back and through my hair, which seemed to be hanging down over my face as though I hung upside down. Then I felt the viselike grip that encircled my legs and realized that I was upside down, hanging over Aloysius’s shoulder, and that he was carrying me and running through the forest as though I weighed no more than a Barbie doll. I managed to raise my head enough to see that the moon still glowed brightly enough to show me that we were on a path and that the trees were dense enough to be several miles from the house. Aloysius had never before taken me anywhere while under the influence of the demon, and the change in routine was alarming.

He slowed suddenly and veered off the path, his bare feet crunching softly through the dry, dead leaves. I heard water running, then saw a stream that wound around and between huge rocks that were flattened and smooth and leaned against one another at various angles. I knew where we were now—an area we’d found on one of our many ventures into the forest, an area we called Music Rocks. We’d often brought a picnic lunch and sat in the peaceful lull of the water for hours at a time, talking quietly or sharing comfortable silences in muted sunlight that shimmered down through thick, protective leaves. But tonight those leaves would cast moving shadows, like wraiths, upon the earth, and only the cold, uncaring moon would witness what took place here. I wondered what the demon had planned for me.

He leaped effortlessly across three feet of water and landed on the biggest, flattest rock, the one where we usually spread our picnic and then lay holding hands, watching the clouds float by. I yelped as the demon flung me from his shoulder, then quieted as Aloysius caught me and lowered me gently to the moss-covered stone, soft against my back, and cool, but not uncomfortably so. I looked up into my husband’s eyes, knowing my own were as full of love and trust as always. The demon stared back, greedy, lustful sparks glowing redly from eyes that usually regarded me with the most tender respect, admiration, and love. It didn’t scare me. The eyes had changed, but Aloysius was still behind them. I was not afraid.

He brought his face close to mine, inhaled my breath. Moaned softly, like a hungry man getting his first whiff of a feast. I didn’t notice the rawhide thongs around my wrists and ankles until he grasped the first one and tied it to a small but sturdy tree that grew between the rocks. A thrill of apprehension trickled through me as my other limbs were similarly spread apart and anchored, rendering me open and helpless to his whims. The small creatures that chirped and scurried and whispered in the woods at night, having quieted as we invaded their home, began their nocturnal symphony anew. I wondered if they sensed what crouched nearby in the shape of a man. I wondered if they saw me as his prey. If, before the sun rose, they might be right.

I looked up at him, naked and so very pale in the moonlight, his hair, usually combed back so neatly, now animal wild and long enough to obscure his eyes. As though reading my thoughts, he tossed his head, flinging the fine white curtain from his eyes, and smiled with bared fangs. Lowered his head to my belly. I tensed for penetration but felt only his lips on my skin, kissing, then sucking, harder and harder. When he raised his head his lips were dark with blood. I raised my head and looked down at myself, at the dark suck mark from which one tiny drop of fluid spread itself thin and ran down my hip. The blood looked black in the moonlight. The suck mark smarted faintly.

Aloysius trailed his long fingers in the chill water and touched my left nipple lightly, leaving a fat drop that poised momentarily on the tip, then started to stream away. He quickly bent his head and caught the drop with one tantalizing lick, repeated the action with the other nipple. I bowed my back a little, pushing my chest toward him, hoping for more of the same, but this time his fingers caressed my lips, leaving them wet, and he met them with his own, gently, searchingly. He moved over me, his bare chest touching my breasts, and gazed at my face as though memorizing it. His eyes held no crimson, no expression of greedy hunger, and I knew that, for the moment, he had overpowered the demon. He whispered to me, and it was his own soft, sweet voice. “Love you, wife...”

But the last word trailed off into a growl. He held my face between his hands and kissed me again, this time deeper and harder, almost painfully so. His lips moved over my skin, a kiss here, a lick there, his breath stirring the fine hairs on my arms before he settled his mouth on my inner elbow and began to suck again. It went on until it became painful, and when I whimpered and tried to move my arm, he sank his fangs into it and held it fast.

I sensed the internal struggle just before it became obvious, as, with a short, sharp cry, he wrenched his fangs from my arm and forced himself away from me. For a long moment, he knelt beside me, eyes exploring my body, coming to rest between my spread legs. His lips parted and his eyes flashed silver in the moonlight; then flames bloomed again in his pupils, and it was like looking at little vents to hell. I shuddered in a strange kind of delicious trepidation. He’d never before tied me down, had never felt the need to fight the demon so fiercely. Again I wondered what would happen if he lost the fight; what torturous perversions the demon had planned.

He began behind my ear, licking with quick, light, flicks of his tongue. Sucked at my lobe. Let his fangs just graze the skin over my carotid artery. I tensed, but he moved on, his open lips moving around to the hollow of my throat. I smelled his hair, the subtle fragrance of shampoo; smelled his skin, the warm, captivating musk of the male in heat. Each flick of his tongue, each brush of his lips, affected me more than the last. My skin was growing so sensitive that the least vapor of his warm breath was enough to raise chills of delight and force a low moan from my lips. All my erectile tissue, down to that contained in the smallest hair follicle, was almost painfully firm and throbbing with need.

He buried his face between my breasts and sucked at my flesh again. Now I could actually feel the blood bursting from the capillaries and rising to the surface of my skin, could imagine its warm coppery taste, feel his dark joy as he swallowed it down. He nuzzled my breasts and I tensed for a bite, but he only licked and kissed until orgasmic chills radiated through me, then leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Ssso sssucculent...”

He raised his head suddenly, seeming to sniff the night air, silvery eyes darting about, and I heard a low growl, saw him see its source, saw his upper lip pull back, saw his fangs flash and heard his answering growl as he sprang away from me, ending in a crouch between me and the huge timber wolf standing on a neighboring rock.

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