I think you should be punished for tormenting me for so long.”--- “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Art is full of agony and beauty. The pen itself a sword of pleasure and pain, isn’t it, my poet?”---“I’ve been waiting for you.” His voice sizzled with hunger.How could I respond? I’ve been thinking about you non-stop like a sex-crazed harlot since I left?“I’m here.”---“Remind me who you are,” he said in a gentler tone, almost a please. “How we know each other.”“Okay,” she began. “I’m Savannah Evans, a grad student and teaching assistant who teaches English at a college in Cambridge. I applied to the colony to work on my poetry and arrived six weeks ago. “We’ve spoken many times. You’ve praised my work, which I find a great honor as I’m a fan of your art.”---“A cross between two species. Doomed with the thirst of the undead for human blood, yet tormented by the gargoyle drive to protect them.”---She ceased to breathe. When he leaned forward and his lips fluttered against hers, her footing became unsteady and she stumbled. He placed a hand on her lower back to steady her and pulled her close. Her breasts met his hard torso and she became aware at how frantically her heart beat. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lost herself in the kiss as their lips met. They explored each other with a sort of fascination, mouth and tongues claiming each other in their hunger. Delicately at first, as if not sure this was real or just a fantasy, and then strong and unyielding. Demanding this moment to never end.---“I bought new lingerie today I wanted to show you, but I didn’t get a chance with all that happened.”“You’ll have to return tomorrow night then…. Maybe we’ll order an entire catalog.” His smile and the glint of mischievousness in his eyes reflected lascivious thoughts. “You can model all the outfits you’d like for me.”---
~ Lisa Carlisle
