Dead until Dark

And for a miracle I only heard what his body was saying, not those niggling things from minds that only foul up mo­ments like this. His body was saying something very simple. He lifted me as easily as I'd rotate an infant. He turned me so I was facing him on his lap, my legs on either side of his. I put my arms around him and bent a little to kiss him. It went on and on, but after a while Bill settled into a rhythm with his tongue, a rhythm even someone as inexperienced as I could identify. The nightshirt slid up to the tops of my thighs. My hands began to rub his arms helplessly. Strangely, I thought of a pan of caramels my grandmother had put on the stove for a candy recipe, and I thought of the melted, warm sweet goldenness of them.

He stood up with me still wrapped around him. "Where?" he asked.

And I pointed to my grandmother's former room. He car­ried me in as we were, my legs locked around him, my head on his shoulder, and he lay me on the clean bed. He stood by the bed and in the moonlight coming in the unshaded windows, I saw him undress, quickly and neatly. Though I was getting great pleasure from watching him, I knew I had to do the same; but still a little embarrassed, I just drew off the nightshirt and tossed it onto the floor.

I stared at him. I'd never seen anything so beautiful or so scary in my life.

"Oh, Bill," I said anxiously, when he was beside me in the bed, "I don't want to disappoint you."

"That's not possible," he whispered. His eyes looked at my body as if it were a drink of water on a desert dune.

"I don't know much," I confessed, my voice barely audi­ble.

"Don't worry. I know a lot." His hands began drifting over me, touching me in places I'd never been touched. I jerked with surprise, then opened myself to him.

"Will this be different from doing it with a regular guy?" I asked.

"Oh, yes."

I looked up at him questioningly.

"It'll be better," he said in my ear, and I felt a twinge of pure excitement.

A little shyly, I reached down to touch him, and he made a very human sound. After a moment, the sound became deeper.

"Now?" I asked, my voice ragged and shaking.

"Oh, yes," he said, and then he was on top of me.

A moment later he found out the true extent of my inex­perience.

"You should have told me," he said, but very gently. He held himself still with an almost palpable effort.

"Oh, please don't stop!" I begged, thinking that the top would fly off my head, something drastic would happen, if he didn't go on with it.

"I have no intention of stopping," he promised a little grimly. "Sookie ... this will hurt."

In answer, I raised myself. He made an incoherent noise and pushed into me.

I held my breath. I bit my lip. Ow, ow, ow.

"Darling," Bill said. No one had ever called me that. "How are you?" Vampire or not, he was trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Okay," I said inadequately. I was over the sting, and I'd lose my courage if we didn't proceed. "Now," I said, and I bit him hard on the shoulder.

He gasped, and jerked, and he began moving in earnest. At first I was dazed, but I began to catch on and keep up. He found my response very exciting, and I began to feel that something was just around the corner, so to speak—some­thing very big and good. I said, "Oh, please, Bill, please!" and dug my nails in his hips, almost there, almost there, and then a small shift in our alignment allowed him to press even more directly against me and almost before I could gather myself I was flying, flying, seeing white with gold streaks. I felt Bill's teeth against my neck, and I said, "Yes!" I felt his fangs penetrate, but it was a small pain, an exciting pain, and as he came inside me I felt him draw on the little wound.

We lay there for a long time, from time to time trembling with little aftershocks. I would never forget his taste and smell as long as I lived, I would never forget the feel of him inside me this first time—my first time, ever—I would never forget the pleasure.

Finally Bill moved to lie beside me, propped on one el­bow, and he put his hand over my stomach. "I am the first."

"Yes."

"Oh, Sookie." He bent to kiss me, his lips tracing the line of my throat.

"You could tell I don't know much," I said shyly. "But was that all right for you? I mean, about on a par with other women at least? I'll get better."

"You can get more skilled, Sookie, but you can't get any better." He kissed me on the cheek. "You're wonderful."

"Will I be sore?"

"I know you'll think this is odd, but I don't remember. The only virgin I was ever with was my wife, and that was a century and a half ago ... yes, I recall, you will be very sore. We won't be able to make love again, for a day or two."

"Your blood heals," I observed after a little pause, feeling my cheeks redden.

In the moonlight, I could see him shift, to look at me more directly. "So it does," he said. "Would you like that?"

"Sure. Wouldn't you?"

"Yes," he breathed, and bit his own arm.