Restless

DISCLAIMER: This is NOT my work! I have full permission from the author to publish it here. This is his side of my 'Restless' prose

He slept restlessly, tossing and turning, finding a position that was comfortable. "Will she ask me?" He thought to himself, "Or will I have to beg her?". He could hear her moving, his stirring causing her to awaken. Taking deep, slow breaths to relax himself, he hugged the blanket to his chest and left his back exposed. In the dim light, the angelic tattoo glowed a deep red against the pale skin of his back almost beckoning her to come to him.

Closing his eyes, slowing his breathing and stretching, he acted as though he were asleep. He didn't flinch when he felt something soft trace the patterns on his back, made with coloured inks and a history of scars. He sighed quietly and let out an almost inaudible moan as something cold, then red hot drew itself across the middle of his back.

He didn't move, for fear of distracting her from feeding. Nor did he want to, as this is what he had always wanted. A destiny of sorts, a place as the servant of another. Be it for his flesh, blood of mind, he did not care. Slowly the deep, red blood seeped from the mysteriously opened wound, only to trickle into an open and eager maw.

Another familiar feeling of cold yet burning sensation was felt on his shoulder, followed by the quiet murmer of appreciation from the temptress at his back. Opening one eye slyly, he looked at her feeding contently on his shoulder. "She must be hungry . . . " he thought to himself, feeling a small smile creep across his lips.

She caught his glance and tilted her head curiously, in a fashion that seemed innocent but the reality was far from it. She licked deep into the wound on his shoulder and let out a soft purr as she returned to the wound on her slaves back.

"Thank you."