Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Ten

I was lost. Hovering somewhere in the oblivion of sensation, not caring about anything else than the man that held me trapped beneath him.

In some deep part of my mind, I didn’t want to find myself again. I wanted to stay lost in those moments, kissing him. I wanted to be closer, skin to skin, and feel every bit of pleasure I could.

A growl escaped him when I moaned again, but then he froze an instant before an explosion of wood sounded from outside the bedroom door. I heard pieces of solid wood flying into the living space and a new wave of adrenaline washed over me.

Before I realized he moved, Michael was standing, looking toward the door that led to the rest of the suite — and the danger. Then I caught that same refraction of his eyes that reminded me of a cat.

I froze as I saw the rest.

A hiss escaped from his lips and I saw twin, needle sharp fangs gleaming white against the low light in the room.

Michael’s posture was different, leaning forward with his arms loose, ready to fight. I was still breathless on the bed, trying to figure out how he moved so fast.

But then I forgot my line of thought as the door to the bedroom exploded inward and someone stepped into view where I stood only minutes before.

He was dressed in black, and his exposed skin was just as dark. He looked like he was a few inches shy of six and a half feet, about the same height as Michael.

Ice slid down my spine as I saw the stark contrast of his white teeth, bared. Sharp fangs jutted into his lower lip as he hissed back. Then his eyes flashed, just as Michael’s did.

“She’s must come with me,” the intruder hissed.

Michael responded, “You cannot have her, Henry. She is under my protection.”

The two men stared at each other for a few more long moments at an impasse. Then Henry muttered, “Master will not be pleased. She was to be his.”

Anger washed over me and I stood, stepping in front of Michael. For emphasis, I pointed my finger at the man that interrupted us. “You listen to me, buddy. I am no one’s property, and I sure as hell am not going anywhere with you.”

A small smile spread on his lips, but he didn’t respond.

“Tessa,” Michael warned in a low voice, but I ignored him. I didn’t know if they were really vampires, but I wasn’t going to be some trembling little waif, waiting for someone to rescue her.

“You think you are safe here?” Henry nodded his head toward the man standing behind me. The same man I was kissing with abandon only moments before. The man that showed signs of being an actual vampire. But I knew he was talking to me. “He will kill you.”

Though I knew Michael for only a short time, I still felt safe with him. There was something about him that called to me, told me that he wouldn’t hurt me. I needed to trust that instinct. “No, he won’t,” I replied with more bravado in my voice than I thought possible.

But either way, I knew how to protect myself.

Answer flashed into Henry’s features before he flashed forward so fast, that if I had normal human vision, I wouldn’t have noticed he moved before he reached me.

Michael moved into my peripheral vision and blocked a punch the intruder aimed at my face with his forearm.

Then all hell broke loose.

© Sarah Doughty

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

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Nine

The echoes of Michael’s moan reverberated through me like a tuned cello, forcing my cells to vibrate to the tune he carried. I barely registered the opulence of the bedroom before he closed the door behind me and moved in a blur, faster than my eyes could follow.

Before I realized what happened, my body was pinned against the solid oak door by his long, muscled body and my toes curled with anticipation as his mouth claimed mine once more.

A moan escaped me, but Michael devoured it like a predator and he growled his appreciation, which did nothing but drive me higher. My chest heaved as my body forgot what it meant to breathe, and it increased the friction against Michael’s heavily muscled chest.

Throbs wracked through me as my nipples ached for his touch. But he still wasn’t touching me. He was only kissing me.

That was when I realized I held his expensive suit jacket in my hands like it was a lifeline. Because it was.

I needed more.

So much more.

And he was driving me crazy with nothing but his mouth.

I cried out in frustration, and I felt him smile against me before the pressure of his body lessened. At first I thought he would step away from me and a breathless whimper escaped me.

But then his cool fingers traveled up my bare arms — when did I take off my coat? — and I shivered. By the time he reached the hem of my blouse, I was clawing at the back of his neck, desperate for more.

Before I could react, he pushed up the thin material and captured my breasts in his hands. The sting of his cool hands against my heated flesh forced me to hiss, but it only drove me higher.

I felt like I was about to combust and his skin was the only thing keeping me from exploding into flames. Before I realized he moved, the door behind me was gone and it was replaced by what felt like a cloud.

Soft, warm sheets enveloped me and Michael pressed against me. His hand traveled to my hip and held me still as he ground his hips tight against mine, letting me feel the long, hard length of him in exactly the right spot.

I cried out into his mouth, still ravaging mine and I barely managed to keep myself from crashing over the edge.

That was when I realized, he was only just beginning.

© Sarah Doughty

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

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Eight

Michael’s taste exploded across my tongue like I was just electrocuted with ambrosia. A groan, low and throaty escaped from him, erupting from his chest in response to my sudden move to kiss him.

Cool hands moved to my face and his mouth opened wider, inviting me to deepen that insatiable kiss. I responded without hesitation and the feel of his chilled tongue moving with impeccable skill against mine was like nothing I ever imagined.

Too soon, Michael pulled back with a slight grin. A whimper escaped from me before I realized I made a sound, and that grin widened with a devilish glint in his eyes.

In that moment, I caught sight of his fangs and a shiver traveled down my spine. But it wasn’t fear that he might hurt me.

Fire traveled through my veins and I wanted nothing more than to feel his bare, cool flesh against mine and his teeth grazing against my sensitive flesh. I didn’t know if he was a real vampire or just doing an exceptional service, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Please,” I begged, yet I wasn’t certain what I was begging for.

Michael stepped back and held out his hand to me as the grin faded from his perfect, rounded lips. He reminded me of royalty — the kind from centuries before in old movies and literature — in the way he extended his pale hand to me. I took it without thinking and realized I was grinning up at him.

“Come, Tessa,” he crooned.

Then he led me toward the bedroom.

© Sarah Doughty

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

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Seven

I followed mindlessly behind Michael as he pulled me toward the oldest and, in my opinion, most beautiful hotels in Paris. The architecture alone would have made me pause to bask in its glory if he wasn’t with me.

But I barely glanced at it, catching the briefest glimpse at the gargoyles that guarded its exterior near the top of the tall building. When we stepped inside, I was equally as enthralled. From the marble floors, to the old world lighting that only amplified its romantic appearance as it glimmered off the floors and the hand carved walls.

To my surprise, the ceiling in the massive lobby was painted in a similar fashion to the Sistine Chapel, but again, Michael didn’t slow down as he stepped inside the open elevator and pressed the button at the top.

Even the elevator was extravagant in its beauty. Its walls were made of etched glass and the buttons were black knobs against a brass panel.

That was when I noticed the man, who still held my hand with a cool, firm grip, was looking down at me with those blue eyes.

And I forgot about the building, the exterior, the interior, even the elevator we stood in. Nothing else captured my attention like his eyes. They were like the stormiest of the cold, wintry seas of the Northern Atlantic, and I never wanted to look away.

With a ding, the elevator door opened revealing a set of massive oak French doors ahead of us. The penthouse. I gulped and followed Michael’s lead as he unlocked and opened the door.

Then he released me.

What I saw inside took my breath away and my feet moved further into the luxurious space as I took it all in. The tall, expansive windows looked out toward the Eiffel Tower. The last of the day’s light was disappearing, but still reflecting off the metal’s surface and it reminded me of shooting stars as Michael’s arms wrapped around me from behind.

I didn’t even hear him close the door, let alone walk up behind me.

But I didn’t care. I melted against him and gripped his strong forearms that were crossed in front of me.

He dipped his head toward the curve of my neck and I trembled as his cool breath hit my flesh. Though I was still looking at the tower in the distance, my mind was on him.

“The view, isn’t nearly as beautiful as you,” he breathed and I nearly collapsed under the air that traveled over my ear like a caress. His words traveled down my spine and I turned in his arms without thinking.

I no longer cared that he was cool to the touch and lacked body heat.

Those blue eyes met mine, searching before his gaze dropped to my mouth and I reached up to touch his face. I could feel the shadow that was beginning to darken his jaw as it scratched against my palms. Then I let my fingers slide back into his dark blond hair, which felt better than silk against my skin.

Then I pulled him down and kissed him, hard.

© Sarah Doughty

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

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Six

Kissing Michael was unlike anything I ever imagined my first kiss would be like. Not only did his taste explode across my tongue like ambrosia, sending shockwaves down my body, but the way he was in complete control let me forget I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.

And it made me appreciate him that much more.

But when he opened his mouth to deepen that kiss, it felt like he was massaging my tongue with impeccable timing that matched the pounding of my heart. My knees wobbled, and my legs threatened to collapse from the overwhelming sensations I felt from Michael’s kiss alone.

Before I realized what I was doing, I was holding the material of his shirt in a vice grip and, when that offered no relief, I started clawing at his chest, silently begging for more.

The rippling of his muscles and pure strength of them was enough to make me feel like the luckiest woman alive.

It didn’t matter that I didn’t feel any body heat from him, except for my own. Even his tongue and mouth wasn’t warm as he kissed me like his life depended on it. I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

Either Michael really was a vampire, or he was taking great care to make me believe he was. But then I lost all ability to think as he bit my tongue just enough that I felt the pressure of his teeth.

I cried out into his mouth, oblivious to the fact that we were still standing outside in the street and a groan, low and throaty vibrated in his chest in response.

When he finally pulled back to look at me, I felt the heat in his gaze and it did nothing but push me higher.

“Please,” I begged with a breathy sigh, surprised I was capable of saying anything coherent at all.

Michael’s blue eyes flashed against the late afternoon light and he grinned before he took my hand and started walking again.

I was amazed I remembered to put one foot in front of the other as I followed after him.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 6 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4, and part 5.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Five

“My name is Michael,” he said as we walked. He was still holding my hand and his cool skin against mine set my nerve endings on fire.

Thoughts escaped me as I tried to form a sentence. “I-I’m Tessa,” I stammered, and then my mind went blank as I looked up at him.

Michael’s blue eyes flashed against the light and I did a double take. I only ever saw something like that on a cat before. Never a human.

But then I noticed he still wasn’t breathing.

Instead of that same nervous anticipation I felt since the first moment I saw him, the first wave of fear washed over me so suddenly, it took my breath away.

His nostrils flared and his blue eyes met mine as his lips lifted into a small smile. “I promise you, Tessa,” he said, and the sound of his baritone voice slid over me like a caress, “you will come to no harm while in my presence.”

Deep down, I wanted to believe him. I felt safer with him — that strange man I only met a few moments ago — than I ever felt with anyone in my life.

I couldn’t fathom why. Trust was something that was earned over time, but yet, every cell in my body screamed that he was telling me the truth. That he would keep me from harm.

The longer I was in his presence, the more my body vibrated with the vehemence of my desire for him. But it was more than that. Somehow, I could sense that he wasn’t a normal man.

Perhaps he wasn’t a vampire, vampires didn’t exist — right? But he was special. I could feel it. Judging by the muscles I could see through the material of his clothes alone, I knew he could keep his word if I was in any danger.

He looked to me like a skilled fighter, not so much a skilled lover, but then I thought, maybe, those went hand in hand, and I trembled.

Michael’s grip on my hand tightened a fraction as if he read my mind. Or, at least he picked up on my unease.

Why would I would be in danger at all, whether it was with him, or some other unknown threat?

He stopped walking and faced me, but didn’t let me go. The cool flesh of his other hand reached up and touched my cheek with a gentle, almost reverent touch and my toes curled in response as I tried to remember the simple fundamentals of breathing.

But then I forgot how to breathe completely as he closed the short distance between us and kissed me.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 5 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3, and part 4.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Four

My gaze lingered on his lips as I pondered the thought of his teeth on me. Shivers traveled across my body with anxious anticipation.

It wasn’t just a blind date, but it was my first everything. I was twenty-five years old and by god, it was time I finally found someone that could be my first everything.

And I really wanted everything with him.

That first kiss that would make my stomach flip, the first caress that would feel like it lasted a lifetime and yet only a moment at the same time. I wasn’t naive enough to think the god-like creature in front of me could offer me anything more than the most intense night of my life.

After all, that was what I was paying for. One night. One insane fantasy that I would remember for the rest of my days.

But somewhere, deep down, I knew it wouldn’t be a happy memory. I knew I would end up wanting more from him. Things I knew he couldn’t offer me.

Everything about that night was carefully planned, and there I was, blubbering around like an idiot. Because he was so much more than I imagined.

Nothing about the man standing in front of me made me feel like anything but a queen, a goddess, and that just made me want him that much more.

The longer I watched him, the more I realized that he wasn’t breathing. Then I started to wonder. Was it really possible?

I never once thought that fantasy was literally what I was paying for. Maybe it was a trick of the light. Maybe it was just my imagination.

“Are you really a vampire?” I blurted, instantly regretting it.

I forgot what I was worried about as he chuckled and took my hand. His flesh was cool to the touch and energy zinged up my arm. It was so intense, it took my breath away. Then he started to lead me toward the exit.

That was when I realized that the heat I felt from him wasn’t his. It was mine, reflected back at me.

He bent toward me and his breath tickled against my ear and the sensitive curve of my neck, sending heat down my body like a flash burn and he whispered, “Why don’t we go find out?”

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 4 of Him. Read part 1part 2, and part 3.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Three

His eyes watched my every movement, and those perfect lips turned up into a sly smile and in that moment, I knew he was aware of what he was doing to me.

Coherent thoughts escaped me as my palms started to sweat and tingle with the undeniable urge to reach out to him and pull him closer.

I wanted to feel his body against mine like our lives depended on it. Feel the heat pulsating from him like a raging fire and smell that intoxicating scent of brown sugar that wafted off him.

“Hi,” I breathed and immediately chided myself for such an idiotic response.

His eyes stayed locked on me and caught my unease. They were practically shimmering with suppressed laughter, but he didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe. “I take it you’ve never done this before?” he asked like we were discussing the weather.

No. I never thought I would reach that level of desperation in my entire life. But there I was, standing in front of a man that defined the word sexy, fumbling around like a lost cause.

Because I was. “Is it that obvious?” I feigned a smile and gulped, faintly noticing that he still wasn’t breathing.

A genuine smile slowly spread across his mouth and I nearly forgot what I was so nervous about. “Relax. I promise I won’t bite.”

Somehow I knew, the feel of his teeth against my flesh would be the most intense and invigorating feeling of my mundane life. And though I believed the words he spoke, in that moment, I knew I wanted him to break that promise.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 3 of Him. Read part 1 here and part 2 here.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Two

Though his eyes were a deep, grayish blue that captivated me and his dark blond hair flopped into his eyes, darkening them with mystery, it was everything else about him that heated the blood pumping through my veins.

The beginnings of a beard darkened his strong jaw that looked like it was chiseled from stone. Those perfect lips looked like they tasted better than anything I could imagine, and as I let my eyes travel down, the blood coursing through me heated several more degrees.

He was taller than me by nearly a foot and even through his shirt, I could see a peppering of hair disappearing into the neckline. See the the muscles beneath. I could tell how strong he was without seeing his flesh.

I wanted to see all of him. Every last inch of him, unhindered by the clothing that clung to him like a second skin.

And at the same time, I wanted to taste every inch of him. Feel every bit of what he could do to me.

My mouth watered from the mere thought of running my tongue over him. Then that tiny smile lifted a fraction before his eyes dropped to my lips as I licked them reflexively.

His eyes darkened moments before slowly lifting back up to meet mine.

“Hi, there,” he drawled.

I was amazed my legs didn’t collapse beneath me at the sound of his voice traveling down my body like a caress.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 2 of Him. Read part 1 here.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.

Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part One

I didn’t know the man standing in front of me, but I couldn’t look away. Seeing him turned me into a live wire. Everything felt electrified and amplified. Like every nerve ending screamed for him.

There was something about the way he was looking at me. With those infinite blue depths, it reminded me of the ocean. Not like the tropical islands near the equator, but more like the stormy, winter seas near the Arctics.

It felt like he could see me. All of me.

And I wanted nothing more in that moment than to taste those perfectly rounded lips, upturned into a faint smile that I knew was meant only for me. I wanted to feel the smoothness of his hair. Breathe him in, and revel in the feel of his skin against mine.

All while losing myself in his eyes.

It was illogical. Crazy even. Because I didn’t know who he was.

But I still wanted it. All of it.


© Sarah Doughty

This is part 1 of Him.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.