Lust for Blood

DESCRIPTION:
On a great rural estate, the idyllic reunion of two school roommates is interrupted when Lady Anna begins to have strange, physically-exhausting dreams about their new neighbour, a mysterious nobleman who is never seen during daylight hours. A vampire has come to High Coulston, and it is up to Suzanne Willis, and three valiant men, to find and destroy him before he can turn her beautiful lover into a demon like himself.

EXCERPT:
I hesitate to write what follows. It seems too fantastical, too outré, too strange, to have really happened, though I have the evidence before me in the glass as I write.
The room was still dimly lit by the bedside lamps. It seemed hazy, as if a dank fog had somehow penetrated into the room. Or perhaps smoky, though there was no smell of smoke.

Then, very slowly, I noticed the haze taking form. Indistinct at first, it slowly formed into a face, hovering over the bed, looking down on me. I should have felt very conscious of my nudity, yet somehow it didn’t seem to matter. Rather than try to cover myself, an act almost instinctual in any well brought up young woman, I rolled onto my back, my arms flung wide, my legs well apart, as if I were showing off the most intimate parts of me to the hovering face.

I am dreaming, I thought. My intimacy with Suzanne has conceived a somnolent fantasy, in which our new neighbour seems to have been included. For it was Lord Ravensbrook’s face which was floating above me, smiling benignly, making me ache with carnal desire.

The mist seemed to coalesce at the foot of the bed. In my dream, it seemed as if the marquess himself was standing there, quite naked, his rampant manhood thrust out before him.

He climbed upon the bed. I drew up my legs, spread my knees well apart, as he lowered himself above me. His massive member pressed at the portal of my quim, insisting it be allowed to enter. I knew this was wrong, but it was a dream, and dreams are to be enjoyed in the moment, and agonised over only in the light of day. The dreaming ‘me’ simply pulled her legs up higher and wrapped them around his back, pulling that magnificent organ deep into her cunt.

As he began to thrust, I could feel the pleasure radiating up from within. My body craved the attention. His member was so big that it was almost painful as he rogered me, yet I cared not at all. In my dream, pain was not something to be dreaded, but to be embraced.

His lips pressed against mine. We exchanged deep, passionate kisses. Dreamily, I was aware of my loving Suzanne lying on her side, facing me, her head propped up on her hand, watching me with a strange, interested expression.

So, she was in my dream as well, I thought. Even more lovely. Perhaps she would join in the fun?

Lord Ravensbrook’s kisses covered my face. His lips brushed the sensitive skin of my throat. I felt a slight twinge where his mouth covered my neck, but any such sensation was overwhelmed as his giant member began to pulse, spewing what seemed like gallons of spunk into my fertile womb.

And then he was gone. One moment he was there, seemingly corporeal, and the next that strange mist again filled the room, only to somehow be sucked out the open window and vanish.

When I awakened in the morning, I found Suzanne studying me curiously. ‘You must have some very strange, very wonderful dreams,’ she said.