Page 74 of Fangs with Benefits

Molly swallows and nods, extricating herself from me to achieve a few more inches of distance.

‘I want to have sex,’ she says simply. Then, quickly adds, ‘With you.’

‘I want that too,’ I admit. Of course I want that, though the image in my mind is making me feel completely out of sorts. Unsteady.

‘I’m good with any kind,’ she goes on. ‘Oral, penetrative, whatever.’

I close my eyes and steady myself at hearing Molly speak so plainly. It makes my dick drip.

‘Also, I have an IUD.’

‘A what?’ I ask, thinking I must have misheard.

‘It’s birth control, like this little rod in my uterus.’

This horrifies me, and my face must show it.

‘It doesn’t hurt,’ she rushes to say. ‘Well, it did at first but now it’s painless. And it means it would be very, very difficult for me to get pregnant.’

Oh.

I feel a pang in my chest as I understand her meaning. ‘Vampires are sterile,’ I explain, feeling the familiar cocktail of mixed emotions working about my heart whenever I think about children. ‘It’s just one of those vampire things.’

‘I’m sorry.’

I shake my head. I’ve long since come to terms with it. ‘It’s all right.’

‘Well, it sounds like we’re really covered on the birth control front, unless you have any sexual diseases or infections we need to be worried about.’

‘None,’ I say. ‘Vampires also don’t get sick or carry disease.’ ‘Very convenient.’ We sit silently staring at each other for another few moments. ‘Do you want to?’ Molly asks, so quietly.

‘Have sex?’ I ask.

She nods.

I haven’t had sex in so many years, the thought is making me lightheaded, overwhelmed with desire and need. Molly is still mostly reclined beneath me, so I lean forward again until my face hovers over hers and then nod.

I don’t even know where to begin, but I think under her sweatshirt is as lovely a place as any. I inch down her body and slowly lift the fabric up her stomach until the whole of her warm middle is visible to me, not just the glimpse of it I get when she lifts her arms at work. I trace my thumb over the bottom of a blue bra and she inhales. I stare for a long while, then glance up at Molly’s face. She has her lower lip pulled between her teeth, her eyebrows pinched together while she watches me. Nervous, perfect girl.

I reach my hand to her mouth, pulling her lower lip from between her teeth, and I press the pad of my thumb against her tongue. She sucks my skin lightly, and I groan. Of all the many things in this world, I think her tongue is my new favourite.

I lower my face to her stomach and plant slow, languorous kisses against her skin, stopping to suck on her, leaving little purple patches on her abdomen until she pants, hands flexing on either side of her as if twitching to touch me.

I put my fingers into the band of her sweats and look up again for one more confirmation of consent, which she gives shakily before I pull her trousers and underwear down. Goosebumps immediately rise on her skin and I rub her thighs until they lessen. With every swipe of my fingers on the tops of her legs she tenses, until finally, I plant them on her thighs and slowly slide them open to reveal her pussy.

My mouth is dry, and I swallow some saliva to wet my throat. I knew she was perfect, but seeing her bared open to me is almost too much. There’s a patch of light brown hair above dark pink lips that are already glistening with her wetness. It makes my cock ache, but I dutifully ignore it while I press my mouth in gentle kisses to the silver lines on the insides of her legs. I want to trace every stretch mark with my fingers, memorise them. I brush my thumb over her folds and she gasps.

‘What are you thinking?’ she asks. ‘You’re never this quiet.’

‘I can be quiet,’ I say. ‘When faced with something so lovely.’

I press my index finger slowly inside of her and her lower back arches off the couch.

‘Really, very lovely,’ I breathe. I press a kiss to her clit, then another before licking up her seam. Her moan comes in unison with the grumbling sound that escapes my chest without meaning to. I can’t help it, it’s the taste of her, it runs the risk of consuming me.

I lick again, then focus in on her clit, licking and sucking it between my lips, my teeth, listening to the sounds she makes as cues to lead my attentions.

‘Perfect,’ I breathe, then slide a second finger inside her, revelling in her gasp. Undoing Molly Mason may be my new favourite activity.