Monsters Under Mistletoe

3. Elise

Chapter 3

Elise

I n the blink of my eyes, he’s right in front of me. His hand drifts up and I think for a moment he might cup my cheek and pull me close for a kiss. I’m disappointed when he only turns my chin with one finger to face the mirror over the fire’s hearth. There I stand, alone, my body supported by an unseeing figure.

“There’s the slight issue, sweet girl, of mirrors and the damned.”

“Well, good thing for you, cameras don’t use mirrors any more. It’s all digital sensors.” I turn back to him with a sly little smile, internally thanking myself for switching my DSLRs to mirrorless models last year. I did it mostly to help ease the awful carpal tunnel pain in my wrist, thinking a lighter model would do me good. That I can take slutty photos of hot vampires now is just icing on the cake.

“Fine, if that’s what you’d like. But I haven’t had a photo taken of myself, ever. I’m not sure if I’ll be a pleasant subject.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” I say, shakily stepping back. I’m nervous, but not the bad kind— Am I really shooting my shot with a vamp right now?

I run out to the car to grab my gear. The reality of what I’m about to do, and who I’m about to do it with, sinks in. I’m bunking with a vampire for the night, and I get to take photos of his incredibly perfect undead ass.

Merry Christmas to me!

Slamming the car door shut, I take one last gulp of the freezing air into my chest and rush back into the warmth of the cabin. Felipe, with his black silk robe practically dripping across his muscular body, stands in the center of the room expectedly.

“Where would you like me, Elise?” he asks with a dark gaze.

“Excellent question.” I scan the dimly lit space, really wishing I’d brought some external lighting with me.

How was I to know I’d be presented with such an unusual subject? In an attempt not to beat myself up too much, and to distract myself from the aching need building at my core, I turn on my work brain.

You're photographing a creature of the night, Elise, lean into it, embrace the darkness. Besides, I can push my ISO setting to bring my exposure up. It’ll decrease the quality of the image overall, but a little grain never killed anyone…you know, unlike a vampire.

“In front of the windows,” I squeak out, grabbing one of the fur throws off the back of the sofa and tossing it on the marble tiled floors. “The fireplace will sidelight you, really helping to pop your physique.”

Felipe drops his robe to the ground. It sluices over his body like a sail catching the wind.

Fuck, I’m good. I think, looking at the way the light plays over his body.

The firelight, though dimmer than I would like, picks up on the highest point of each of his muscles, highlighting his abs and the vee of his hips that leads the way to his incredibly hard, dripping cock.

My eyes shoot back up, his face clear that I’ve been caught gawking. I have to physically push my jaw up to close my mouth.

He has one of the prettiest dicks I’ve ever seen. Long, thick, and uncut. The veiny beast is nestled in deep russet hair, atop a perfectly proportioned sac. I’ll admit it, I’m surprised to see that this undead hottie is torqued up. He looks almost painfully engorged, and part of me would feel bad for him, if not for the strange sense of pride that it must little old me who is having this effect on him.

“Lay down,” I say, mustering any sense of authority or professionalism I can. “On your side.”

The cursed Adonis does as instructed, maneuvering his chiseled body in a way that’s already so beautiful I’m not sure if my posing can improve on it.

The snow outside falls softly, the cool night sky contrasting with the warm highlights of the fire. Felipe stares directly at me, his gaze burning me more than the coals to my left ever could.

I crank up my ISO further but leave my f-stop as closed as I can, not wanting the image to have too shallow a depth of field. I want to see all that Felipe’s body has to offer, leaving no valley or peak of his form obscured.

Embrace the darkness, I hear in my head and I’m not sure if the voice is my own.

I line up my eye to the viewfinder, framing the shot so that his perfectly sculpted body is at the bottom of the frame, with the mountain scene filling the uppermost two-thirds of the photo.

“Close your eyes and breathe out, relax, I’ve got you,” I tell him, just like I would any other client. There’s something in the subtext of that statement that’s never been there before, not with anyone else.

This feels like foreplay…I never pinned myself as a voyeur.

Taking my direction, Felipe does as he’s told. He closes his lids, thick lashes fluttering over the tops of his cheeks, and lets out a breath that’s more like a moan, tipping his head back.

My shutter contracts, and I hold my breath.

“Fucking beautiful,” I whisper, gawking awkwardly.

Felipe smiles, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“Left arm up over your head, right knee bent, roll more onto your back. Put your weight on the tippy top of your skull and let your shoulders come off the floor as you arch.” My brain goes into autopilot as the work side takes over, leaving my incredibly turned on side just to spectate. I watch as each muscle contracts and shifts as he moves, a finely tuned killing machine that’s letting me boss him around.

Maybe I’m drunk on that power? Or it could be the eight ounces of bourbon I chugged earlier?

“How old are you?” I ask, trying to course correct my thoughts. I’m curious. He seems about my age, thirty-five, give or take a few years.

“Very, very old,” he says slowly, opening his eyes back up. “I wasn’t joking when I said I’d never had my photo taken. I was turned long before the invention of the little box in your hand.”

“Oh, so like over two hundred years?” I throw out a ballpark number, embarrassed at not really knowing quite when photography was invented.

“Yes, more. We’ll leave it at that, shall we? No sense in dwelling on the past. There’s far too much of it for me.”

“Fair,” I whisper as my feet carry me to the top of his head. I put the camera back up to my face and frame the next shot so that it draws the eye down his body, catching only his lips and chin in the bottom of the frame.

“Feel free to say no, I don’t normally cross this line with clients,” I start, almost not believing what I’m about to ask him. My heart pumps wildly, but I feel like he’ll be on board if his erection is any indication. “But wi-will you grip y-your manhood? It would make for better lines, for the photo.” It feels so incredibly wrong to ask for, but fuck if I want to see him do it.

“Of course, if you’d like to see my stroke my cock, for the photo , I’m happy to oblige.” He trails his hand over his thigh before tilting his head back to me. “Any particular way?”

“Oh, um, just however you like.”

His golden eyes glow in the firelight, contrasting the deep tone of his skin, and without breaking eye contact with me, he places his thumb on the top of his shaft and middle and ring fingers on bottom and works himself. Every stroke gathers some of the slickness at his cock’s head, gently spreading the lubricant down his length, his foreskin gliding easily with the added wetness.

I can’t fucking breathe as I watch him.

“Is this good?” He grins.

The click of my shutter is the only response. I check the back of my camera, and though the screen is small and I know I’ll have to boost exposure in Photoshop, I think they’ll turn out okay.

“Perfect,” I mutter, grabbing a few more angles and zooming my lens to get an even tighter crop of his sex.

For a minute, I chide myself for being unprofessional.

This situation with a client would be completely unacceptable, but he’s not a client. This is me, trying to fuck a vampire, who is clearly into the idea of it. I certainly don’t ask clients to jerk off—this isn’t work, but something entirely more erotic.

But the sight of this beautiful creature stroking himself gets to be too much, and I’m not sure how to take things further. So I decide that I’ve had my fun, and to cool things down. It’s easier to face than any potential rejection, right?

“Great, thank you. You can stop.” I drop my gaze, embarrassed at what’s happened here.

“Is that what you want?” His voice surrounds me, something otherworldly in its tone. It’s hard to tell the direction his baritone timber is coming from, like he's in several places at once.

My eyes snap back to him, and he’s already standing in front of me, even though I didn’t hear him move.

“I don’t know,” I mutter, before realizing he’s giving me a chance. So I decide to be honest. “No, I don’t want you to stop, but what’s about to happen between us scares me. Maybe not in a bad way, but I’m frightened all the same.”

I do want to fuck him, I can’t deny that.

“You should be scared of me—that means you’re smart—but fear can amplify your pleasure, can it not?”

“Pleasure? The only pleasure I’ve had for years is the battery charged kind,” I fall back on my old standby of self-deprecation when the conversation starts getting too real.

“A beauty wasted on undeserving mortal men, I see. What made you come here? Isn’t it strange that you should spend the holidays alone?” He cocks his head, edging ever closer to my neck.

“I needed an escape, some time away from the world. Seclusion, this seemed to fit the bill—why are you here?” I turn the question back at him, a futile power struggle I know I’ll lose.

“These holidays are a relatively new invention for me, at least in this Christian iteration. Novel at best. I prefer the old gods, but they seem long forgotten here.” His thumb graces over my bottom lip.

I push his hand down. “But why here?” I need to know what forces have brought us together tonight, even if they're just coincidental.

“I find the majesty of winter so much more impressive than the plastic decorated tree—do you not enjoy the view?” His hand pulls me closer by the small of my back, and I squeak as our hips find contact.

“The mountains, or…” My eyes dip low, not sure what view he wants me to acknowledge.

He leans closer, searching for another kiss. Right as his lips get close to mine, I can’t help but ask.

“You could have anyone. Why would you want to have sex with me?” My voice sounds small and unsure of itself, my lack of self-confidence rearing its ugly head.

“You’re beautiful, and I’m vain to start with. I’ve been on this earth for many lifetimes, and there’s a softness about you I want to touch, to consume.” His other hand snakes under my top, unclasping my bra with speed.

My heavy breasts drop lower, freed from their underwire prison.

“Your curves, the plushness of your body, remind me of an ancient fertility goddess—you are the Divine feminine incarnate. It’s been a long time since my cursed soul has been in the presence of something as heavenly as you.”

He twists my nipples between his fingers and the sensation shoots right to my clit like an electric spark, my legs nearly giving out as my knees buckle beneath me.

“I think we’ll both enjoy ourselves, don’t you?” His chilled tongue flits over my earlobe, causing my inner muscles to clench.

“I do, I really fucking do…” I reach behind me blindly, attempting to put my camera down, until the body of the electronic device knocks against a side table and I release it.

My hands free, I run them through Felipe’s tightly cropped curls. He lifts me, hands on my ass, until I’m straddling him as he pushes me against the plate glass behind us. He maneuvers my body as if I weighed nothing more than a throw pillow.

“Is this really happening?” I moan, his mouth hovering over my neck.

“Only if you allow it, Elise. Do you want to feel a monster inside you?” He growls right before I feel the sharpness of his fang graze my skin.

“Wait!” I yell, pushing at his chest. “What if I’m scared you’ll lose control? I want you, but I don’t want to die.”

I should be worried that something about that statement excites him. Felipe’s eyes glow with intensity.

“Revoke my invitation. Simple as that, I’ll be forced to leave. You hold the reservation, after all.” He doesn’t move, waiting for my permission to proceed, showing the restraint I haven’t mastered yet.

“Fuck, I want you—I need you.” Against my better judgment, I quickly throw off my top, abandoning it on the cold marble tiles of the cabin.

He doesn’t waste any time taking my nipple between his lips.

I brace myself, wondering if he’ll pierce me with those lethal-looking fangs. But his tongue is gentle, and though I can feel the points of his teeth, they skim over my skin, leaving sparks in their wake.

“You taste like heaven,” he groans, “All the sweeter on the lips of the damned.”

I lean into his icy touch, closing my eyes, savoring it as it runs a chill down my spine.

“We can both be on our merry way after this. Start the new year off with a bang , so to speak.” The word sounds bizarre against his usually formal speech.

My eyes snap open with a chuckle.

“Wow, I didn’t realize vampires were cheesy.” I grin before my face suddenly drops. “Would you bite me?”

“Only if you begged for it.”