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Books. He would never tire of the scent of books. They were a blend of many things, and had changed over the centuries, and yet, his love of them never once faded.
And the scent of books, mixed with the scent of blood, and a soft woman underneath him giving it to him freely, and
She was thoroughly wrapped up in whatever book she was holding, and he found that, for the first time in a very long time, he was more interested in the person holding the book than the book itself.
He was entrapped, lured in by her expressive eyes and sultry lips and enchanting bookish aura, and he... he was willing to walk directly into it, if only to learn a little more.
“I’m Declan, and I have a love for older books and manuscripts. I enjoy finding old and worn treasures which haven’t been touched in years and restoring them to life. And, I happen to enjoy reading the pages within, although I will admit I have not read every book within my collection, because, as you mentioned, collecting books and reading books are two separate hobbies. And, while I will admit that I first entered this shop in search of treasures from a recent estate sale, I find the company in front of me much more interesting than anything on these shelves.”
“I’m Rosamund, and the pursuit of history and knowledge has always been a passion of mine. In turn, it became a love of preserving older artifacts and repairing them when necessary. My specialty is working with books, so I have quite the collection, although I think it would take an eternity to read all of them... And I—“
He needed to know if the ink and parchment had seeped into her blood, her love of books something he could taste.
Was she turned on by this? Wait, of course, she was. She was a bookworm. A book hoarder. A book dragon. A library troll. She was a bibliophile.
Primarily about what was big. Very big. Oh for the love of everything holy, she needed to stop thinking about big things.
She felt like freaking Belle from Beauty and the Beast, and the child in her, the one who knew every word to every song from the animated film, leapt for joy.
The woman in her was pressing her thighs together, trying to remind herself that showing off his library was not a form of foreplay... ... Okay, no, there was no point in lying to herself. This was definitely foreplay.
“A bookshelf can take you anywhere. A library can take you everywhere.”
“A book can take you somewhere,” Rosamund said suddenly, her head tilted to the side. “A bookshelf can take you anywhere. A library can take you everywhere.”
Would you stay forever?” “The only way I can stay forever is if you make me immortal, like you.”
And if immortality, vampirism, meant she could keep Declan, keep this library, keep these books... Vampires were real. A vampire. He was a vampire. A monster of old lore. And she was unbelievably horny because of it.
“Your intelligence as well, and your dedication to research. You have a mind which is unmatched, save perhaps for my own. Our passions, our desires, our drives, what we thrive on, what we enjoy... We fit together, you and I, in a way I never imagined possible.”
“My attraction to you is limitless. I crave you intellectually, yes, but also carnally. I would know your body, every soft dip, every sound you make, every desire you hold, ever...”
“Bite me,” she begged, struggling against the bond. “Drink me, undress me, fuck me, love me, just bite—
“Oh, yes. My jaw will be quite the throne for you. I long to feel your thighs on either side of my head, gripping me. You will always be welcome to sit on it.”
“You forget, my dear, that I am dead. I don’t breathe. You can sit on my face for hours, without pause, cumming on my tongue over and over again until you cannot move. And even then, I’ll still devour you.”
Love was too minuscule a word to label what he felt for Rosamund. She was... perfect. Open, welcoming, beautiful, graceful. Everything about her was interesting, from the way she plucked books off the shelf to the way she smiled at him to the way she tucked her hair behind her ears.
Perfect, wonderful, amazing... his little stalkerish archivist who had researched him and tracked him down. Magnificent. Ethereal. Goddess. His.
Love... it was such a small word compared to how he felt, and how he suspected she felt in return. Love was... finite, while they were eternal.
