Climax overtook me, not like a surf or even tsunami but like a truck. Like a semi tractor-trailer hitting me square in the sex. I cried out as darkness washed over me.

My eyes slit open to soft yellow above. Oh yeah, bed canopy. Silky comforter and soft mattress below. A buzzing came from around my navel.

Nikos was licking my belly, purring. It brought reality home. A) I’d gotten it twice and he hadn’t gotten any yet and B) my boyfriend was a vampire. Or maybe not boyfriend, maybe it was only a business arrangement. Fine, my gigolo was a vampire. Who cared? I’d gotten some out of it, see A, above.

I watched him lick, not really compos mentis yet. His shoulders, twice as broad as my hips, were exquisite. Chiseled like a smoky quartz sculpture but in motion, muscles sleek under his glistening skin. His hair bristled from his skull, thick and jet black. I really was going to have to work on getting him to grow it long enough to curl.

I wondered what the rest of him looked like. Hadn’t seen it yet, surprisingly. Most men I knew would have tried to stuff their John Henry in some orifice by now. Did vampires even have penises? I’d felt a healthy bulge in his jeans, but guessing wasn’t knowing. “So do you do more than lick? Or can’t you?” I tried to see past shoulders.

His head snapped up. His eyes were ruby red, his fangs were huge. Damn. Not in Kansas any more, Toto-wyla. He stalked up my body until we were face to face.

As he did, something hot and smooth trailed fiery fluid up my belly. Couldn’t be what I thought, since he was at least a foot tall on hands and knees…I glanced between us.

Great Rodin’s chisel-Nikos had a yardstick for a cock.

His eyes were riveted on mine and he must have read my shocked expression because he said, “Want to know?”

Excitement. Push the limits. But not rip the limits. “It won’t fit!”

“Let’s find out.” He grabbed his shaft, pointed it like a cannon between my legs.

“Wait…I have something to tell you first.” I scrabbled back.

He seized me by the scruff of the neck, hauled me under him. I clenched my thighs tightly but he just pushed that monster erection through. My own cream lubed its passage.

I tried to weasel away again but he held me firmly and pushed forward until the head nudged my swollen sex. I clamped my legs tighter. He purred, rotated his hips, and pressed forward again. Despite clamping against him, his glans spread my labia.

“I said wait.” I grabbed his arms, a mistake. His pumped biceps were too big for my hands, and his skin was slick with arousal. My vagina spasmed at the feel of him.

“You want it.” His eyes were intense, almost as if he were reading my every thought, every emotion. “Why wait?” He pushed a little with his hips, but teasing, not threatening.

“I have information-”

“Excuse.” His lids dropped as his focus shifted inside himself. He pressed forward another inch. His cock filled my opening, stretched me.

“No! All right, I’m scared.”

He stilled instantly. “I won’t hurt you, Twyla.” His red eyes shifted back to me.

“I’m afraid because this is just business to you. You don’t really want to do this.”

He blinked. “I want to.”

“You want sex, maybe. But not me. You don’t want me.”

His eyes closed. He shook his head, not once but several times. “How can you think that?”

“If you really wanted me you’d be more passionate. More carried away.”

“Hercules run me through.” Abruptly he pulled out. His eyes flared open, blood red, his fangs shot out halfway down his chin. “If I got carried away, then I’d hurt you.” He grabbed his cock and dropped it on my belly. It hit with a whump. “Stuff that in your tight little channel without a care? Sink my fangs in you as deep and hard as I want? Drink as much of your ambrosia as I want? As I need?” He leaped off the bed, stalked away, spun back. “You are driving me insane with want. And you’re saying I need to be more passionate?”

I blinked. “You never showed it-not unless I provoked you.”

“What should I have done? Talked to you? Twyla, love, I’m a Spartan general made vampire two and a half millennia ago. I now have a cock twice as big as a human man which I want to stuff up your cunt while I drink hot blood from your throat. And, oh yes, I have a bit of a thing for domination.”

He’d said more in the last minute than the whole of our acquaintance. That probably qualified as carried away. “You really were a Spartan?” My throat was tight. “That explains the laconic wit.”

“Out of everything, you picked that?” He barked a short laugh. His erection, jutting out from his hips, shuddered with it. “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, I’m not the mythical creature here.”

His mouth eased, a small but real smile emerging. “No. You’re a beautiful woman. But Twyla, you’ll never hear it enough from me. I was raised a warrior, not a poet. And oh, Zeus, I want you.” He groaned the last.

I want you. That was all it took. “Honey, you may not have a lot of words, but they’re the right ones. Besides, I don’t need words.” I spread my legs. “I need action.”

His sudden intake of breath was sharp. He jumped on the bed so fast he was a blur, practically mist. Or maybe, remembering his comment on losing his clothes, he was mist. He came out of warp space positioned on hands and knees above me.

He stared at me. “Are you sure?”

I almost smiled. “Now you’re giving me a choice?”

“No. Yes.” His eyes were intent on mine. “I want you. I can’t think. What do you want me to say?”

Apparently want, for a vampire, was pretty intense. “I don’t want you to say anything.” I grabbed him by the ears and kissed him.

His big mouth covered mine. His tongue pushed inside me at the same moment his glans spread my labia. He groaned deep, went to his elbows to kiss me to my tonsils, his hands shaping my hair. His cock sank in another inch. I wriggled, felt my vagina open a little, swallowing another inch of shaft. A little thrill burst in my belly.

He was kissing me like he meant it, but he’d always done that. Should have listened to my mouth.

But this time he was also loving me like he meant it, trembling with his restraint, holding back when he obviously wanted to slam himself in to the hilt. I had no doubt his huge body could generate quite enough power to ram that monster cock past my cervix. I was ready, wetter than I’d been my whole life, but even fully aroused he filled me, stretched me. I wrapped my ankles around his hips and snaked a hand between us, around the root of his cock to keep him from hitting too deep. I couldn’t quite close my fingers.

He sank in another half inch, sweating now. “Heracles’ teeth, Twyla. You’re like an oven.” He was practically panting. “When you’re stretched, I’m going to take you like a bull. Like a locomotive.” Another half inch. “Fuck.” He stopped, swelling inside me, stretching me until I gasped. “You’re so hot…so tight…I’m coming.” He sucked in a couple breaths. “Damn me, I’m coming now.”

He arched back until all I could see were the sinews standing out on his arms and the muscles of his chest, clenched so tightly they were almost white. Hot fluid filled me in a rush. I felt each hard spurt from his tight balls, several inches back on my buttocks. He still hadn’t fully sheathed himself. It went on and on, until the fluid splashed out onto my thighs. He groaned and purred the entire time.

When it was over he relaxed onto me, weight heavy but not crushing, and kissed me tenderly, almost lovingly. As he kissed me he stroked my hair. He eventually rolled off, continuing to stroke me, to lie raised on one elbow at my side.

Even tender, he assumed the superior position. Like a Spartan general. If this relation went long term, I’d eventually have to deal with that natural machismo.