“Please tell me you’re awake and in control of yourself,” I said, lightly in his ear.  The warble in my words gave away my worry.

“Barely.”  The one rough word made me shiver.

“Barely awake or barely in control?”

“Both.”

He turned his head, and his lips skimmed my ear.  My heart hammered against my squished ribs.  My right hand still gripped his shoulder.

“Thomas, I can’t breathe.”

“I have the same problem when I’m this close to you.”  His tongue traced my ear.

I wanted him to stop and to keep going.  I wanted to wrap my arms around him and pull him closer as much as I wanted to push him away and drag in a deep, cleansing breath.

My need for air won.

“No, Thomas.  You’re too heavy.  I can’t breathe right.”

His weight immediately lifted, but he didn’t leave me.  His tongue continued to explore the outer shell of my ear as his arms braced his weight.

I pulled in a much needed lungful of air, and he shifted his attention to my jaw.  Little kisses scorched a path to my chin, then he claimed my lips.

I sighed and gave into the urge to wrap my arms around him.  His tongue traced my lips.  My skin felt hot and tight, and I didn’t know what to do other than to surrender to the sensations.  He tilted his head and nipped at my lower lip.  I opened my mouth slightly.  He growled and traced my lips with his tongue again before dipping it into my mouth.  I trembled and tightened my hold.  I touched my tongue to his.  He shuddered, and his hips settled onto mine, breaking the spell with another surge of panic.

Turning my head, I gasped and pushed at his shoulders.

“Stop.”  It was begging, but I didn’t care.

He groaned and immediately pulled back.  He didn’t leave me, just gave me room to breathe once more.

“Please, Thomas.  I need you to go.”

“I can’t.”  His words tickled my ear.

“You can, but don’t want to.  Please,” I said again.

“One more bite,” he said.  I wasn’t the only one begging tonight.

“You promised.  Never again.”

“Not me.  You.  Bite me one more time.”

I turned my head to look up at him.  In the dark, I couldn’t see much.  Just the shadows of his face and the slight glow of his eyes.

“You were starting to hurt me,” I said.  “I’m sorry I bit you but you wouldn’t wake up.”

“I didn’t mean to sleep on you or scare you.  I’ll go back to my spot by the door.  Just one more bite, Charlene.”

My remaining naivety was precious to me.  Life’s hard choices had opened my eyes to much many girls my age didn’t yet have to deal with.  I was afraid giving into his request would open my eyes to one of the few remaining mysteries in my life.

“No.  I’m not ready for that.”

He growled in frustration and dropped his head to my shoulder.

“Thomas...you should go.”

“I should,” he agreed.  “But I can’t get past this feeling...this rejection.  When I’m not with you, it feels as if there’s a hole in my chest, and when you’re close enough to touch, my hand tingles until it hurts.  I’ve been waiting for you to show any sign you feel a tenth of what I do, but you don’t.  Your disregard just makes the hole in my chest grow larger, emptier.  I’m lost, drowning on feelings I don’t understand and losing to instincts that don’t work with you.  I can’t sleep.  I don’t taste what I eat.  And every time I breathe in, your scent torments me.  Everything I want is right here, yet I have nothing.”

His words stunned me.

“Charlene, please, give me something.”

How could I not after that?

“Do you promise not to take more than I’m willing to give?”

His weight shifted.  His hands clasped my arms, and suddenly, he was under me, and I was sitting on his stomach.

“I swear, nothing more than you give.”

His hands fell to my knees, the open palms warming my skin as he looked up at me.  My pulse thrummed rapidly as I blinked down at him.  My stomach twisted.  Could I?  Should I?

I laid my hands flat and leaned over him.  His heart beat swiftly under my palm.  I hesitated.

“I don’t understand why you want me to bite you.”

“I don’t either.  It’s not what you think.  Well, it is in a way, but it’s more.  I feel like we’ll be closer then.”

I couldn’t see how biting brought us any closer than we were.  I was sitting on him for Pete’s sake.  Regardless, I leaned down, until my chest touched his.  His fingers, still resting lightly on my knees, twitched.

He turned his head, exposing his throat.  I wanted to kiss the shadowy column, not bite it.

“I can’t, Thomas.  I’m sorry,” I quickly slid from him and stood beside the bed.

He lay there for several moments, breathing deeply and staring up at the ceiling.  Then he sat up, ran a hand through his hair, stood, and moved to the door.  There, he sat, staring at me, the glow of his eyes interrupted by infrequent blinks.

Without a word, I curled back under the covers.  I couldn’t guess how long I lay there, but eventually I drifted off to sleep.

When the same weight woke me again, my temper flared.  It was still dark out, and I couldn’t see much.

“Thomas, get off me.”  I didn’t bother with whispered subtlety.

He didn’t move.

“Thomas, I’m serious.  You’re too heavy.”  I shoved at him, but he didn’t respond.

“Fine.  Have it your way.”  I turned my head and bit his neck hard.  The coppery tang of blood tickled my tongue as he exhaled loudly.

Knowing I had his attention, I stopped biting.

“I’m certain, I made myself clear before.  Out.  Of.  My.  Bed.”

I moved to wipe my mouth on the back of my hand.  He lifted his head before I finished and gently kissed my palm.

My anger didn’t fade exactly, yet another emotion blanketed it.  Awe, a complete sense of wonder and elation.

I frowned.  I wasn’t elated.  I was still mad.  And he was still on top of me.

“Move, Thomas.  Now, or so help me, you won’t like what happens next.”

He chuckled, kissed my forehead, and rolled off me.  He didn’t get out of bed but pulled me to his chest, cuddling against me.  He kissed my temple.

“Whether you like it or not,” he said, “you’re my world now.  Sleep.  I promise I won’t wake you again.”

He sighed and relaxed behind me.  I lay there stunned.  What had just happened?  Was his head damaged?  I still hadn’t given him permission to sleep in my bed.  Despite my angry thoughts, I couldn’t seem to hold onto my agitation.  Contentment and something softer continued to defuse my hostile emotions, which just made me angrier.

I drew back and elbowed him.  He grunted and quickly caught my arm.

“Sweetheart, why are you so angry?”

Sitting up, I glared down at him.

“Sweetheart?  Since when am I your sweetheart?  And I’m angry because you’re ignoring me.”

“I am most definitely not ignoring you.”

“Then why are you still in my bed?”

“Because I’m not ignoring you.”

“You are making absolutely no sense.”

“Charlene, what do you feel?”

“Annoyed.”

His eyes glowed brighter for a moment and a tendril of desire washed over me.  I was thankful the dark hid my blush.

“What now?”

I stared down at him.

“How did you know...?”

“Because what you felt wasn’t your emotion; it was mine.”  He lifted a hand and gently tugged the end of a section of my hair.  “Did you know the moonlight is highlighting your already beautifully pale hair?  It almost glows to me.  It’s softly curling around your face.  You’ve never looked prettier.  And when you’re angry, your lips and cheeks take on a darker shade of pink.  I can’t see anything else but your lips when you’re upset.  It’s as if nature’s daring me to kiss you just then.  ‘See if you can make her happy again.’  And I want to try now more than ever before.  But I won’t.”  He wrapped his hands around my face.  “Because you were right.  You are different.  I won’t forget again.”