My F*cked Up Fairytale

TAKEN BY THE WIND - CHAPTER ELEVEN

A tight sensation around my waist awakens me from my sleep. My eyebrows scrunch together as I struggle to gather my unfamiliar surroundings. I'm not in my room, that's for sure, and I'm definitely not alone in this bed. Fear almost begins to rise in me until I go to move my tired limbs. The dull pain biting into me comes as a comforting reminder of the events prior to my deep sleep. Well, it's mostly comforting and partially terrifying.

As I continue to let myself fall into the clutches of this foolish feeling of love, the idea of having to take the source of it away becomes ludicrous and almost impossible. I know that I have no other choice but to do so. Though, the moment I lose this, I do not know if I will have it in me to proceed as usual. I'm sure I'll foolishly search for Dorian every waking day and sleepless night, unable to let go of the sensation that ripped across my body as he bit into me with hunger and passion. Such a horrible future is not one I can look forward to. All I can do is fear it and hope to God it never comes. But I know it will come in due time. If not today, then tomorrow, if not tomorrow, then the next day, and so on. It will come, regardless of whether I want it to or not.

A shaky sigh expels from me as I carefully run my fingertips over Dorian's muscular arm that is slung over my waist. He groans in his sleep, then turns away from me. I almost go to turn toward him and wrap my own arm around his large build but I stop midway. This is not something I should indulge myself in. Besides, after what I did with Dorian, I've indulged myself enough for now. Still, I found myself wishing to return back to the warmth of Dorian's embrace after I carefully get out of bed. My eyes linger on the silhouette of his body against the moonlight pouring through windows before I quietly gather my shirt and put it back on.

When I'm just about to leave, I catch sight of my open journal, discarded on a nearby table. I hurry over to it, quickly snatching it up, only to discover handwriting that's not my own on the page. The handwriting is a perfect, almost machine-like cursive. Each word flows together beautifully as I read through the entry, smiling.

Recipe Num. 14

Cyra's Delicacy

Items:

* Cyra

* Dorian (No other vampire shall dare to use this recipe)

First things first, you must find Cyra. You'll be terrified at the mere thought of sinking your fangs into her, yet oh, so attracted to it at the same time. Once you find Cyra, all you must do from there is bring her in close to you. She will crumble into you at this simple gesture, just as you will when she kisses you. Kiss her over and over, slowly trailing down her soft skin. When she's lost within herself, bite her so that she writhes in pure pleasure. My final step is a reminder: give her more pleasure than pain so that she'll unravel into a beautifully chaotic mess beneath you.

Review from Cyra: She moaned into my ear more times than I can count, not that I'm complaining in the slightest. That only made it all the more enjoyable. Oh, but this is a review for her. I believe she liked it thoroughly, as she kept begging for more, even when she was growing weak from exhaustion.

Side note: If you tell Cyra you're going to lose control, she'll take your hand and lose control with you.

Now I'm being faced with even more of an internal struggle, and it's all because of the thought of Dorian writing this in my journal with the same wide smile on his face that is currently on mine. I force myself to set the book down before I have the chance to read the entry again. If I read it over, I'm sure I'll be able to pick out every little emotion that is hidden beneath each sentence. That is the last thing my fast-beating heart needs right now.