Him Part Twenty

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

I screamed. But it wasn’t because I was in pain. The intensity of the sensations was just too much and I shattered, arching my back as much as Michael’s body would allow.

At some point, while I was still mindless and writhing around, his cool lips found the curve of my neck and bit me again, and it felt better than I ever thought possible. Even better than biting my nipple.

The warmth of my blood filled Michael’s mouth and the feel of his mouth moving, drawing more of it out made my toes curl. With every beat of my heart, my breast throbbed from where his fang pierced my flesh, and it just amplified what he was doing to me.

A growl, low and throaty escaped from him as he moved harder and faster, still drinking from me. My orgasms came one after the next and I lost all sense of myself, existing only to feel every bit of Michael I could.

Finally, as his speed increased beyond anything a human was capable of, he pulled away from my neck and hissed as he came, and I followed after him.

It was beyond my wildest imagination. Especially for my first time. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew that one encounter with him wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy that need that grew within me over the last several years. It amplified tenfold just in those last few minutes.

Before that day, I never thought vampires were real, but there I was, gasping for air after having mind-blowing sex with one.

And the thought never occurred to me that he might drain me dry after he bit me. There was something about him that made me trust him. I didn’t know what it was or why, but I did. I knew, deep down, that he would never hurt me.

Though I heard enough stories about vampires over the course of my life, the desire for that bite and in knowing that my blood fueled a vampire was never something I noticed before. And as my mind slowly returned, I knew that was exactly what happened.

My blood is Michael’s fuel. It is a part of him now.

I wasn’t sure why, but that thought excited me. It felt like on some cellular level that I would forever be connected to Michael, the first vampire I ever met.

But before I could continue with that train of thought, he shifted and collapsed to the mattress next to me, taking a deep breath — which was saying something for a vampire — and without hesitation, he lifted his hand to his mouth so fast, I almost missed it.

He held his thumb in front of my face, a tiny bead of blood was there, where he pressed it against his fang an instant before. “Here, this will heal you.”

“But won’t it…,” I trailed off.

“Turn you? No, that’s a much more complicated process. There has to be a blood exchange prior to your death, and then I would have to revive you as a vampire.”

“Oh,” I breathed and lifted my head, taking his thumb into my mouth. The taste of his cool blood was like an explosion of pennies, almost electrifying — and to me, it tasted sweet. Swallowing, I pulled back in a slow movement, letting his thumb slide out of my mouth.
I thought I heard him groan, but I couldn’t be sure, but then I forgot as pain exploded through my neck and my breast.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 20 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, and part 19.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.

Him Part Nineteen

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

His voice traveled down my spine in a delicious shiver and I came again, hard and fast.

My mind was gone, lost in him. It didn’t feel like I was nothing more than a woman with no prior experience with men.

I felt my body move in perfect rhythm with his. Though he wasn’t breathing like a normal man, I could feel his urgency and it drove me higher.

My perfect night with a vampire wouldn’t be complete without his bite, but I paused for an instant, wondering if Michael even possessed the control necessary to bite without draining me.

Could vampires feed without killing their victims? Did they even want to bite during sex?

I didn’t know the answers to those questions, but then I forgot what I was thinking as Michael froze and pulled back enough to look at me. His stormy eyes flashed against the low light in the open warehouse he called home.

“What’s wrong?” his fingers traced my cheek as his eyes searched mine.

“Um,” I breathed, not knowing what to say. Then I felt my cheeks flame.

“Just talk to me. You have nothing to feel embarrassed about.”

It took a few moments to muster up the courage to speak. “Do you want to bite me?” I blurted and Michael’s perfect lips lifted into a sly grin, revealing a hint of fang.

“Do you want me to bite you, Tessa?”

The sound of his voice traveled over my skin, leaving that delicious sensation of goose bumps.

Before I could respond, his grin widened as his hips thrust against me with a long, slow grind and I cried out. “My, aren’t you full of surprises.”

In that instant, I wasn’t embarrassed any longer. I wasn’t even sure I cared if Michael would drink every drop of my blood. I just wanted to feel his fangs puncture my skin and his mouth pulling my blood, all while he fucked me until my mind went blank.

And then I wanted him to do it again.

“Remember what I said,” Michael breathed. “You will come to no harm while in my presence.”

“Please,” I begged as I tried to nod.

Before I realized what he was doing, his head dipped to my neck and I prepared myself for the bite. But instead, his cool mouth kissed my flesh and I trembled. Then, while his hips kept up that slow rhythm, his mouth traveled down.

He captured my nipple in his mouth and his tongue swirled around the sensitive tip.

Then he bit me and I exploded.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 19 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, and part 18.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.

Him Part Eighteen

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

At some point while I was still hovering in the oblivion of the most intense orgasm I ever felt, Michael entered me and the sensation was unlike anything I ever imagined.

I gasped, which was quite a feat since I was still mindless and my body was writhing around by its own volition. For the first time in my life, I was finally with a man.

But he was so much more than that. He was a vampire, and the sexiest person I ever met. Everything from his scent to the way he felt inside me was perfect. There was nothing that made me feel any less attracted to him.

It just solidified my resolve that I made the right decision to wait for him. To seek out my deepest fantasies and meet a vampire. A flesh and blood vampire.

Rejecting all those men throughout the years felt right, and I was happy that Michael was my first. My first everything.

My thoughts fell away as my orgasm subsided and that feeling of Michael moving in and out with impeccable timing left me losing myself again.

I didn’t know what to expect for my first time, but it was so much better. It was beyond my wildest dreams.

His cool flesh was warming from the contact with mine, and with every sound he made, it drove me higher. Whether or not he wanted me as much as I wanted him, it didn’t detract from the experience. It felt like he was enjoying himself just as much as I was.

Hiring a male escort for a wild night no longer mattered to me. Every choice I made up until that moment was right, because it led me to him.

If I never saw him again after that night, I would grieve his loss and a part of me would love him forever, remember everything we shared. But I would never regret it. With every passing moment it was only branding his name deeper within my soul.

My fantasy was a reality, and I couldn’t have dreamed up a better man if I tried. And the longer I spent in his presence, the more I didn’t want my time with him to end.

At some point, I started to wonder if I loved him before I met him.

But then my thoughts stopped in their tracks as his speed increased. His perfect hips ground against me with each thrust, and before I realized I was close, I crashed around him, screaming his name.

He nibbled on my ear and said, low, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, Tessa.”

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 18 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, and part 17.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.

Him Part Seventeen

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

My bra disappeared from sight, exposing my aching flesh to the vampire that hovered over me. And then his cool mouth claimed mine with so much ferocity, it took my breath away.

I gasped and then moaned as his fingers found my nipples and teased them in perfect harmony with his tongue. His strong hands massaged them and I arched my back toward him, practically levitating off the bed just feel more of his skin against mine.

He groaned, low and throaty in satisfaction at my involuntary motion as my mind escaped me from the onslaught of sensations around me.

Everything was heightened in his presence, and the feel of him on top of me, with nothing more than his mouth and hands on my skin made me mindless with need.

I whimpered in frustration and then realized I was clawing at his back, silently begging him for more, because my mouth was otherwise occupied.

With Michael, I didn’t need to breathe. I didn’t need anything but to feel his body, skin to skin. And the mere thought of having him inside me did nothing but push me higher off the bed.

I dropped to the soft duvet beneath me and gasped, “Please, Michael,” but I couldn’t tell if it was a plea or a demand.

Even though I didn’t tell him what I wanted — what I needed, it was as if he read my mind. Those stormy blue eyes flashed and a sly grin spread on his lips.

Just seeing him smile like that was almost enough to make me come, but I forced myself to breathe.

He moved to his knees, letting his cool fingertips slide down my stomach in a caress that left my whole body covered in goose bumps.

I shivered as his fingers reached the button on my pants and just to torture me, he took his time opening the button.

Then the sound of the zipper slowly moving down combined with the slight pressure of his hands, inches from the spot that ached for his touch the most, forced me to lift my hips toward him.

He moved so fast, I was surprised my eyes caught the sight of him pulling the last of my clothes away. I bit my lip and waited as he stood there, taking me in.

“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he breathed.

Without thinking, I sat up, letting my head fall back slightly, elongating my neck as I moved. Then I looked up at him and returned that sly smile.

I was barely aware of what I was doing, and that tiny part of me that was still thinking clearly basked in my boldness. The shyness was gone, and what remained was a confident woman that knew exactly what she wanted.


Then I reached for the button of his jeans and watched his eyes darken with desire as my fingers moved to release him.

Despite every cell in my body screaming at me to look away from his eyes and down at what waited for me, I wouldn’t do it. It was too empowering in that moment.

I pushed the last of the material to the floor and leaned back, but he caught me before my head reached the bed.

A cry escaped from me as his fingers found my most sensitive spot, but he devoured it with another one of those insatiable kisses.

His fingers continued to move in time with the beating of my heart, and I writhed beneath him, silently begging for more.

At some point, his mouth began making its way from my mouth down my jaw, traveling toward the curve of my neck.

By the time I felt his teeth graze me, I was already lost to the sensation. My breathing increased tenfold as I cried out.

“That’s it,” he breathed, and I felt his cool breath against my ear as his fingers danced faster and faster.

I screamed, arching my back so forcefully that Michael was forced to give me room, but then I felt his teeth again and I lost all sense of myself as I came again, harder than I ever thought possible.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew he was only just beginning.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 17 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, and part 16.
Want to read the whole thing in one place? Click here.
Stay tuned for more.

This was also published at UInk.ca.

Him Part Sixteen

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

I didn’t come.

But god, how I wanted to.

His kiss was beyond anything I ever imagined and he kept kissing me, driving me higher with that sweet taste.

I whimpered when he leaned back to pull off his shirt and I let my gaze travel over his pale skin. Then I froze. There were raised white scars all over his toned flesh. And it was otherwise so smooth, it would have shimmered against the moonlight.

Without thinking, I reached out and ran my fingers over his skin. I sucked in a breath as my heated fingertips met his cool flesh. He felt even better that I imagined.

“What happened to you?” I breathed before I realized I even wanted to speak.

A small smile spread across Michael’s lips and my eyes flickered up to watch. They were wet and slightly swollen after kissing and for an instant, I forgot what I was thinking. “I’ve lived a long time. These happened before…,” he trailed off.

“Before you became a vampire?”

He nodded, watching me with those stormy blue eyes, assessing my reaction.

I didn’t doubt his words. I knew he wasn’t lying to me. I saw enough that day to know that everything my grandmother ever told me was true.

And the more that I thought about it, the more it made sense that I was a complete virgin.

It was because I never met a vampire before that day. I didn’t need my fortune read by my grandmother and her trusty Tarot deck to know that Michael was the one I was searching for my entire life.

The whole concept of love at first sight was foreign to me, and my mind kept flickering to small denials that it was insane to think I could love so fast. Be captivated so completely.

It was mind blowing.

But the more I thought about it, the more I could feel it in my bones.

Michael was much more than a man. More than a vampire. Even though I never met him before that day, somehow, he felt like he was mine.

The concept of ownership was foreign to me, but yet when I thought the words, they felt right. Completely right.

I didn’t understand it, I couldn’t explain it. But I knew in that moment I would never be the same again.

“You must have lived a very dangerous life before you turned.” I tilted my head to the side, “Is that even the right term for it…?” I trailed off as I caught the glimmer of humor in his eyes.

His smile widened at my reaction and he chuckled. “Something like that.”

My gaze dropped to his mouth again and all the humor fell away from his features. In the next instant, if I would have blinked, I would have missed his movement.

The distance between us closed so fast, I gasped when his mouth claimed mine once more and he picked me up, moving with the same intense speed, until I felt like I was lying on a cloud with him on top of me, still kissing me like there was no tomorrow.

That was when I realized that somewhere along the way from the door to the bed, my shirt was gone and I felt the clasp of my bra open from behind me.

But then Michael froze and pulled back enough to look down at me.

I clawed with mindless abandon at his back, not realizing what he was doing, and then I caught the flash in his eyes and stopped.

“Are you sure, Tessa?” he asked, low.

The concern in his features took my breath away and I reached for his face, feeling the tiniest hint of stubble and kept my eyes locked with his.

I breathed, “I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 16 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, and part 15.
Want to read the whole thing in one place? Click here.
Stay tuned for more.

This was also published at UInk.ca.

Him Part Fifteen

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

The material of Michael’s shirt was bunched up in my grip with white knuckles. I wasn’t sure if I was holding on so tight because I was afraid he would disappear or because I would wake from one of the most exhilarating dreams I ever had.

But whatever the reason, I couldn’t let go.

Somewhere along the line, my hands went from his face, to his shirt, yet I didn’t recall when I moved them, or when he removed his suit jacket. I couldn’t bring myself to care.

It felt like our lives depended on him being closer to me. I wanted to feel his cool flesh against my fevered skin. But I was too busy kissing him.

His taste overwhelmed me, like ambrosia exploded in my mouth and continued to grow in intensity. But it wasn’t rich, where only small amounts could be enjoyed. If his taste was food, I’d never want to stop indulging in it.

A groan, low in his chest rumbled against my aching breasts and I responded with a moan of my own. His mouth devoured it and my reaction only seemed to entice him more.

Suddenly, without warning, he pulled away from my mouth and I gasped, not realizing I was in need of air. But his mouth trailed down my jaw toward my neck and once again, I forgot what it meant to breathe.

All I could feel was his lips and that cool tongue that set my nerve endings on fire. It was like every cell in my body whispered his name. Pleaded for more.

“Oh god,” I breathed, and barely registered that my hands were pushing through his dark blond hair at the back of his head, silently urging him on.

As his mouth found that sensitive spot at the curve of my neck, I felt his teeth. Those two needle sharp fangs grazed my skin, not enough to break through, but enough that I could feel it.

I gasped again, and fisted his smooth hair in my hands and once again caught that whiff of brown sugar and my mouth watered.

Without realizing we were moving, one second I was pulling his face back to my mouth, and the next, I was pressed against the unforgiving, cold metal door behind me.

I was pinned against it by Michael’s long, hard body and I gasped as his kiss increased in intensity.

His hands found my hips and I responded to his wordless gesture. Lifting my legs up, I wrapped them around Michael’s waist and he pressed harder against me, right in the perfect spot and I cried out into his mouth.

I was already so close to the edge, I felt like exploding right then and there, but I forced myself to breathe.

Then he ground against me once more and the blood pumping through my veins exploded.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 15 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, and part 14.
Want to read the whole thing in one place? Click here.
Stay tuned for more.

This was also published at UInk.ca.

Him Part Fourteen

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Somehow, I could feel Michael’s proximity behind me. If he was a normal person, I would’ve felt his body heat warming my back, but all I could feel was my own warmth reflected back at me and his coolness beneath.

I was frozen in place, concentrating on my breathing with butterflies in my stomach going haywire, and time passed like that for several long moments. It was a heated, delicious anticipation that ran through my veins instead of blood.

The only problem was that I didn’t know what to do. It felt like the man standing behind me close enough to touch me was waiting for something, but I didn’t know what that was.

“Stay still,” Michael said, low, and I felt his cool breath on my neck again. A combination of a shiver and heat rushed through my body like wildfire and I sucked in a breath.

Cool fingertips touched the bare skin at the base of my neck and I flinched from the shock as my breathing increased.

“Relax,” he whispered. Then he bent his head down and kissed the curve of my shoulder.

A breathless moan escaped me and I bit my lip, forcing my knees to hold steady.

Goose bumps erupted across my skin as I heard a low groan rumbling from his chest. It vibrated against my back and through his mouth and my eyes slid closed in response.

I reveled in the sensation of his cool lips against my skin.

My neck.

I never knew how intoxicating that would be. It was a rush, so palpable, it felt like the whole space was crackling with unspent energy.

That was when I realized it was coming from us.

The thrum of our bodies, barely touching, was like a harmony of chords in an orchestra.

Michael’s mouth lifted from my neck and turned toward my ear. “You smell amazing, Tessa.”

“Is that my blood you’re referring to?” I blurted before I realized I wanted to speak and my eyes flashed open.

That vibration that passed between us stopped and he moved around to look at me. His eyes met mine and I forgot what I was thinking. “Why would you think that?”

“Isn’t that what you want from me?”

I didn’t understand why I was asking those questions. No matter what words escaped me, deep down, I knew it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter if Michael was a real, flesh and blood vampire. It didn’t matter if he wanted to drink my blood. Everything about him — even his cool skin, his stormy blue eyes, and those fangs I noticed before — turned me on in a way I never felt before in my life.

And I liked that.

After a few more long moments, his cool, strong hands lifted and ran up my arms in a slow, agonizing caress. I shivered, realizing he carried me through Paris in the middle of winter without my coat, and I didn’t notice we left it behind.

I forgot what I was thinking as his fingers kept moving until they held my face. It felt like ice against my flushed skin, and I sucked in a breath.

“I might be a vampire, but I was referring to you. You are beautiful, intelligent, capable of protecting yourself, and unlike any other woman I’ve ever met. It is you, Tessa. All of you. I don’t know what you are, but your blood is the last thing on my mind.”

I forgot how to breathe.

Did he really just say all those things?

He was even more perfect than I thought.

Without thinking, my hands lifted to his face and pulled him toward me.

Then I kissed him, hard.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 14 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, and part 13.
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Stay tuned for more.

This was also published at UInk.ca.

Him Part Thirteen

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

We ran through the maze in Paris’s alleyways so fast, I couldn’t tell where we were or where we were going. But Michael didn’t hesitate.

He was weaving in and out of alleys, side streets, and a bustling art market that I wanted to visit before my impromptu vacation was over. Thinking back, it was probably a bad idea to hire a male escort to role play as a vampire and take my virginity, but I didn’t regret my decision.

Even though I paid for a fantasy that was now my reality, I wanted to be in that suite, having the time of my life with Michael — vampire or not. We barely made it to second base.

I sighed in frustration and gave up my futile attempt at figuring out where we were as the last of the day’s light faded from the orange sky.

But then Michael stopped and lowered me to the ground, steadying me on my feet and releasing me before I was ready.

The sudden movement left me dizzy and I closed my eyes, catching Michael’s strong arms to keep myself from falling over.

I froze.

Damn, he feels divine.

Taking my time, I opened my eyes and let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Then I forced my hands to release their grip on him.

The vampire grinned, showing twin, needle sharp fangs, and then his blue eyes flashed against the light above the door before he opened it, leading into a very inconspicuous building made of red brick.

Ushering me inside, I caught the scent of fresh bread, coffee, and that brown sugar I knew belonged to him. My mouth started to water. But not because I was hungry.

Not for food.

“We should be safe here,” Michael said, closing the solid metal door behind him. Then he secured the locks. But I wasn’t paying attention.

My focus was on the interior of the building. It looked like it was once a warehouse or perhaps a firehouse, with the high ceilings, large windows, exposed brick and piping. And the fact that there were hardly any interior walls.

In the back corner, where morning sunbeams would shoot streams of light onto the floor, there was a painting station, complete with an easel and more paint brushes and paints than I could count.

It was amazing.

“Do you like it?” Michael’s voice was low, almost a whisper and I felt my hair move at the back of my head from his cool breath, letting me know he was right behind me.

Words escaped me and all I could do was nod. I was having enough trouble staying on my feet as it was from his close proximity.

Then he said, low, “Now, where were we?”

Before the shivers could travel down my body, I felt his cool breath on the side of my neck.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 13 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, and part 12.
Want to read the whole thing in one place? Click here.
Stay tuned for more.

This was also published at UInk.ca.

Him Part Twelve

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

We hit the ground with a lurch, and to my utter surprise it wasn’t a splat. I was certain that we would die, or be so injured we wouldn’t be able to move and flee from Henry.

Before I could turn to Michael and ask what the hell was going on, he picked me up and ran headlong for the alleyways between Paris’s buildings.

After about thirty seconds of regaining my bearings, I shot a string of questions at him without giving him time to respond.

When he stayed silent, I sagged against him in frustration before more words rushed out of me. “Fine, don’t tell me anything. But if I so much as think you’re going to try to kill me, I’ll scream until your head explodes. I might not know much about vampires, but I know not many creatures can survive without their head.”

“And what do you know about vampires, Tessa? What was it that convinced you I am one of them?”

He was speaking with ease, as if we were still making small talk in the café where we met not long before and not running so fast it was making me nauseous.

The bastard wasn’t even winded.

Before I realized what was going on, I snorted and tried to stop myself from laughing, but failed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michael smile. Even with all the chaos, dangers, and the questions, I couldn’t help but stop and appreciate his beauty.

That was when I knew I was doomed.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 12 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, and part 11.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.

Him Part Eleven

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

While Michael and Henry fought with immense speed, my eyes followed their movements. Fists were thrown and kicks were swung, but I couldn’t tell which of them held the upper hand.

Growing up in the heart of the French Quarter in New Orleans until I was eighteen was a far cry from Paris, but I was raised by my grandmother. She was one of those women that was full of stories about all the different things that went bump in the night.

She believed in vampires. Until just a few moments before, I never took much stock in those tales she told me of others. I regretted not listening to her more.

But as much as my mind was trying to find a rational explanation for the two men fighting, I knew what they were. They moved in speeds which humans were incapable. Combined with those flashes of their eyes,. Michael’s cool, pale skin, and those fangs. She was right all along.

Vampires were real.

My fantasies of finding a perfect man with those attributes were supposed to be just that.

A fantasy.

I repeated it in my mind. What I was seeing was real.

A grunt came from Michael as he fell to his knees and blood spurted out of his mouth. I knew I was out of time. Henry was going to kill him if I didn’t do something.

Instead of finishing Michael, Henry’s gaze settled on me and he grinned with his fangs in full view.

That was when I realized that Henry came for me. She was to be his, he said.

Well, that’s just too damn bad.

My grandmother might have been a Voodoo Priestess, but I wasn’t like her. I wasn’t like any of them. And Henry was messing with the wrong girl.

A scream erupted from my chest with so much force, all the glass in the suite ruptured and both men clutched their ears as blood seeped from them.

I stepped forward, pushing Michael behind me so he wasn’t taking the full brunt of my voice, and I glared at Henry, the man that barged in on us.

The vampire that meant to kidnap me.

I bent down, screaming into his face as he fell to his knees and opened his mouth in a pained howl I couldn’t hear.

But I didn’t stop. I kept on screaming until Henry’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

As my wail faded away I heard Michael croak, “Tessa, we must leave. It is not safe here.”

I spun around and faced the man that set my nerve endings on fire and saw the look of fear in his eyes from his position on the floor.

But he wasn’t afraid of me. He was afraid for me.

He grinned up at me as I held out my hand. Though I knew he didn’t need the assistance, he still took it, and his cool flesh met mine, sending a shiver down my spine.

Then Michael picked me up and instead of moving toward the entrance of our suite, he ran at his full speed toward the broken balcony doors that overlooked the Eiffel Tower. Then he leapt over the railing.

We were on the tenth floor. In that moment, I knew I was about to die.

And I screamed the whole way down.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 11 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, and part 10.
Want to read the whole thing in one place? Click here.
Stay tuned for more.

This was also published at UInk.ca.