[Warning: Sexual Content]
Lucille lifted her hand, its rear facing her.
She can still feel it, like it's got its own heartbeat.
"Why did he. . what is this?"
She placed her other hand on her chest and whispered, "It's strange."
"Is it really fine to feel this way . ." she uttered, closing her eyes.
***
On the other hand, Eros was rather jittery as he stared at the ceiling with his back against the bed.
He lifted his hand from his forehead, with its palmar side facing him.
"Her hands . ." he uttered, recalling the times her hands had made her feel uneasy.
He could still feel it—her soft, small, supple hand that trembled when he touched it.
"Damn it, Lucille. You never fail to faze me."
He aggressively closed his hand into a fist.
"I want you. I fucking want you."
He briefly held his breath as a thought crossed his mind.
"That reminds me, you've always been mine, Lucille."
Driven by desire and ambition, the crown prince burst into maniacal laughter as his mind forged a master plan.
***
"Where is he?"
Lucille woke up to find out that Lucas was nowhere to be seen. At first, the shy lady tried to act like his absence was not something she'd be fazed about. But now that the afternoon has come without him in her sight, she has mustered the courage to ask.
When you actually think about it, why couldn't she simply do so?
"Hmm. He offered to catch a boar for you this morning. But he hasn't returned yet, I wonder what he's up to."
She impulsively slammed the kitchen table, taking Anne by surprise.
"H-He did? H-How can we be sure he's safe? What if—what is that weird stare for?" Her tense speech slowed down.
Anne could not hide her giggle, but chose to deny it to tease the embarrassed lady even more.
"Nothing at all. Hahaha. Oh, my lady, getting worked up for some . . guy," she rested her chin on her hands atop the table.
"What are you talking about? Of course I'd be worried! I feel the same way when you're out on your own."
"Is that sooo?"
Her flushed cheeks seem to satisfy the young maid; oh, how she wishes for her lady to loosen up as she does now.
But for the young lady who must be infatuated for the first time, admitting it would surely take some time. "Stop it, Anne. It's not right to tease an engaged woman about a bachelor."
Her loyal maid knows that very well, as does the fact that that engagement never brought her any good. It's been the lady's persistent source of stress, anxiety, and despair.
Such a fairytale-like fate—how could it turn out rather cruel for her?
"Alright, hahahaha. But it's pretty normal for a lady to admire someone, you know."
"Enough with that. I-I'll return to my room."
With her cheeks still beyond warm, Lucille turned away and pressed her eyes and lips together in disbelief. How could she tease her like that? Her young maid must be stirred by the fantasy of the two being somewhat compatible match.
"Miss Anne! Can you hear me!?"
Lucille felt her heartbeat race upon hearing his voice.
'You, Anne, look what you've done to me!'
"Oh, there he is!" Anne rushed towards the window and yelled, "We're here, Mister Lucas! What do you need?"
Lucille followed her without letting out a little sign of excitement that was rising in her. She held her hands properly in front and stood in an elegant posture.
"Just a pail of water for my hands!"
"Coming!"
She watched as Anne fetched a pail of water and a towel but did not bother to tend to him herself. From the kitchen door, she noticed that his hands were filled with blood and that a dead boar was being carried by a huge cart behind him.
He's too far away for her to smell his hands, but her distance is enough for her to see them.
Now that she thought of it, she only saw him remove his gloves once—when he held her hand and kissed the back of it.
It happened so suddenly that she could not focus on his hand anymore, but on his face.
At this moment, she's gotten a glimpse of them.
The bones of his hands are well-defined, and veins can easily be traced. His fingers are long and slender, and as he raise his sleeves, she noticed how muscular his arms are.
She kept an eye on them while he washed off the blood that was covering his skin.
Lost in the moment, Lucille extended her arm, as if reaching him out, and unconsciously uttered, "Delightful. I'd lick it clean for you. . ."
'No, did I really--?'
Realizing she almost lost herself staring at him, she covered her mouth and ran away, carrying the weight of her shame.
***
Still immersed in grave embarrassment brought about by her actions, Lucille spent the rest of the day locked inside her room, burying her face on a pillow while screaming her throat out and punching the mattress.
"You're a sorry excuse for a lady, Lucille! How could you . . let such unseemly thoughts get ahead of you!? Argh!"
Out of extreme frustration, she grabbed her hair and shook her head back and forth.
"Mother, forgive me. Should I get a conservatory education before proceeding with the marriage?"
Amidst her aggressive self-condemnation, a note slipped underneath the door and caught her attention, prompting her to fix herself.
"I do hope you enjoy the little treat I prepared for you tonight, my lady," it reads.
"My mind . . not again. You've failed me twice today already!"
***
No matter how busy she keeps herself by reading and fixing her room, those thoughts won't ever leave her at peace.
The night has risen without her having a proper meal, perhaps the two might be thinking that she's experiencing 'it' again.
She stared at the mirror while brushing her hair on one side and noticed several changes since she moved into this remote mansion.
Only the bright radiance of the full moon on her veranda allows her to see her reflection. Her undereye has gotten darker, her skin is a lot paler, and she obviously lost so much weight.
Lucille gently placed a hand on her cheeks.
"How unpleasant," she uttered.
Two consecutive knocks on the door made her jump and quickly move from the vanity mirror to her bed.
His arrival was way earlier than she has anticipated, but it'd be troublesome for him if she asked him to wait until she dress up. It's already night after all, wearing a nightgown is rational.
"Come in!"
It was Eros.
He stood before her with the cart beside him, as if presenting it.
But something seems wrong.
"What's in that? I-I don't smell blood at all," Lucille was quick to notice it with her heightened senses during the night. Luckily, she has not gone feral yet this time.
"Oh, this," the pretentious butler said, taking off the metal plate cover.
But what it revealed was merely an empty wine glass and a knife.
Her chest started pounding.
'What is he thinking now? What kind of trick is he trying to pull?'
Seeing the unusual grin on his face, her suspicion grew stronger.
"Well, I've decided tonight's a special one. I'm not going to serve my lovely lady some kind of cold, stale meal. Instead. . ."
Lucille's eyes widen as he pulls the knife and shows off his bare hand.
"W-what's going on?"
"I told you to rely on me. I can give you what you need, my lady. I'm giving you all of me, even my blood."
The way he says those words with a smile on his face sends a chill down her spine.
Is it really her butler, Lucas? Why is he behaving in such a bizarre manner?
She stood and tried to extend her hands with the utmost caution. "Please don't hurt yourself."
No matter what he's planning to do, she cannot afford to have him proceed with it.
Just as he was about to bury the knife in his palm, Lucille grabbed his arm, ripped his collar down his sleeve, and sank her teeth into his bare skin.
Due to her speed and weight, they ended up crashing into the floor, with her fangs still intact on his skin.
It happened in an instant, and the next thing that occurred to him was an extreme, sharp pain throbbing on the side of his neck.
Despite the tormenting sensation he felt, Eros slid his hand onto her loose hair and whispered, "Ah, do you like it, my lady? Does my blood please you enough?"
Instead of an answer, she pulled an inch away and sucked his neck, followed by a warm touch of her tongue encircling it, as if defining the area where she left the mark of her fangs.
A moan escaped his mouth. "Hm, ah. I see."
They were both breathing heavily, their bodies pressing against each other so that they could feel their hearts pounding.
In an attempt to pull away, she held his shoulders and supported herself.
She's still atop him, looking at him with a face that imparts different emotions:
Confusion.
Bewilderment.
Her mouth is partly open, with blood flowing on one side.
From underneath her, Eros reached her face and wiped the blood with his thumb. His remaining fingers swept the hair from her face.
"So beautiful," he whispered.
His gaze did not linger on her face for longer; with a pair of eyes full of desire and lust, they traveled down her bare shoulder with the thin string of her dress hanging on her arm. It then fell to her sweaty chest, watching the droplet of sweat trace the gap between her breasts.
As he was about to touch her, her hand was quick to catch his arm. But rather than pushing it away, she pulled it towards her and pierced her fangs into it.
Eros flinched but got used to it in an instant.
With his arm still within her grasp, he sat on his bottom and faced her as she indulged in his blood.
"It's still not enough, is it?"
Her burning red eyes locked into his.
"Too bad this thing is outside my job description, thus I don't get paid for it. I may have offered myself with an open heart, but please understand that I too have my own needs," Eros whispered as he slid his other hand through her thigh.
His words screamed danger, but she simply could not pull away.
His blood is warm and tastes different. . .
She has long since found out that human blood tastes more delightful than animals', but drinking it inflicts something unusual in her.
It's like she's starting to crave something in him other than just blood.
"Why don't we . . have a deal?"
She finally got to withdraw herself.
"My blood, in exchange for this."
His movement was slow and relaxed, but swift enough for her to be caught off guard.
It was a desperate kiss, but was full of passion and yearning that she could not resist anymore, and before she knew it, she'd already completely given into it.