Chapter 3

Most vampires slept in coffins, or underground, or in some hidden, dank cave. Not her – not *this* vampire. Henri’s bed was more luxurious than she’d imagined, much more so. Silk sheets, curtains of heavy brocade, trim of velvet and lace, and a thick, well-stuffed mattress made up his resting place.

“This is quite different from the other vampire beds I’ve seen,” Mariana observed. Something inside made her feel like she needed to talk as much as possible, to fill up the huge, elegant space with silly, small words.

He shrugged, and put a tray of cakes down on the bedside table. “When I was young, I made do with whatever I could get. I studied magic to improve my lot, and, well,” he gestured at his vast body and his fangs with a grin, “You see the result!”

Mariana hadn’t moved and just nodded absently at his remark. The room was silent for a moment. “I do not wish to do anything that would make you unhappy, Mariana,” the vampire said.

“I’m not unhappy,” she said slowly, “And that might be the problem. I’ve never been really happy before, I think, and I’m happy… with a vampire.”

He grinned, no fangs now, and gestured at the sweets. “I am happy… with a Slayer. Now, come dine with me.”

“In bed?” she laughed.

He looked at her with mock sadness. “Breakfast or any other meal in bed has its own joy.” He patted the bed invitingly. “Come, put your feet up, and let me guide you to pleasure.”

The bed was incredibly comfortable. Mariana wondered which was softer, his belly or his mattress, and blushed while he arranged slices of this and that on a plate for her. When he sat, the mattress sank so much that she half-slid, half-rolled across the bed, and found herself intimately close to him. “You must be hungry,” he teased. With a few grunts, he settled himself into place, leaning back on the headboard. His engorged gut rested on the bed between his thighs, a swollen ball of fat that seemed like the center of the universe to the lonely Slayer. She couldn’t look away.

Henri looked sly when he noticed. “You may touch it, if you wish. I do enjoy a belly massage when I’m full.”

“Not too full, I hope,” she murmured, already reaching for that tempting expanse of fat. He offered her a small tart filled with sweet cheese and blackcurrants, and the flavor hit her tongue just as her hands seized his belly. Mariana’s eyes rolled back in her head at the rush of sensory delight. Her hands cupped, squeezed, and fondled that luscious roundness while she savored the delicate flavor.

When she opened her eyes again, a trifle embarrassed, she saw Henri’s expression. There was smugness present, not surprising as vampires often felt superior, but rather than the edge of contempt she usually saw in her prey’s eyes, she saw fondness.

Prey? No, here there was no prey, no Slayer, no victim, no vampiric killer.

“How does pleasure suit you?” he asked, smirking.

She moaned again, tears of happiness in her eyes, and spoke with a full mouth. “I love it! May I feed you too? Pastry, this time.”

He sat up a little straighter, or tried, but his heavy belly barely shifted. “Please! Pleasure was meant to be shared.”

Mariana picked up a slice of chocolate cake, dense and coated in inches of sinfully delicious chocolate frosting. “Do you like this one?”

“I like them all, ma cherie, that’s why I told the townsfolk to make them,” he chuckled. He took a bite, then guided her hand to her own mouth. “Have you ever had chocolate before?”

She shook her head just as he put a morsel of cake between her lips. Her eyes bulged, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Cherie, I hope that is a happy tear.”

“I never…” she muttered through the lump in her throat, “I never knew. There’s a world full of chocolate and I never had a bite.” She sniffled and swallowed, while he stroked her shoulder.

“Mon bijou,” Henri murmured, then paused, as if he was searching for what to say. His hand slipped down her arm until he cupped her hand in his.

Mariana looked down at his plump, warm hand, and licked a crumb of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. She was so happy, so comfortable, no hunger or cold or loneliness to plague her. Something inside her snapped.

With the same swiftness with which she slew vampires, the same intensity, the same urgency, she fell upon Henri and pressed her lips to his. It was the warmth stolen from the living, yet it was more warmth than the living had shown to Mariana.

He clutched at her, holding her close. Her small breasts barely filled his palm, he could span her waist with his hands, her whole body was deceptively delicate and small, a delicious contrast to his swollen bulk.

She pulled away mid-kiss and looked at him with wild eyes. “I want to kiss every inch of your body.” Her gaze roamed his bare belly and heavy breasts hungrily.

Henri smirked. “That’s a lot of inches to cover.”

“Slayer stamina,” was her terse reply before pressing her face into the softness of his gut. Where she had been thrilled by Henri’s pleasurable groans while eating, he was now treated to the symphony of lusty moans she made adoring his huge body.

Her hands cupped his fat breasts, her fingers swiping over the nipple and making the vampire gasp. She kissed and licked in a frenzy, scraping her teeth over his lush rolls in her desperate need. His shirt ripped wider, baring more of his flesh to her touch, and she pushed the fabric away frantically, venturing lower and lower in her explorations.

Heat bloomed in her sex higher with every revealed bulge and fold. Mariana was no virgin, but she was new to pleasure. His body was a temple to hedonic joy, he, a priest to sacred delight, and she, an eager worshipper. Her tongue swirled around his navel, provoking another gasping cry from him.

“Yes, mon ange, just like that,” he groaned, massaging his own belly as she coated his gut in kisses.

One hand slipped between his thighs, pinned between his belly and the bed. She made a low guttural noise as her fingers stroked the softest fat on his body. It was exquisitely plush, almost velvety, and yielded to the slightest pressure. His body quivered with every motion and shook when her searching fingers brushed his fat pad.

“Henri?” she asked, sitting up again. “Could you eat more?”

“Of course,” he said with a polite puzzlement on his face, “Did you wish to return to food rather than this?”

Mariana shook her head so hard that locks of hair slid out of her sensible braids. “Hearing you eat excites me, Henri, your body excites me. I want both together.”

He laughed, one sharp, happy bark. “It seems that you are a quick study in pleasure.” Henri shifted his body, jiggling every divine inch, down a few inches, and pulled a plate laden with goodies onto his belly. He took the first bite, some cake redolent of apples and cinnamon, and grinned with his eyes at her.

She fell upon him again, tracing a line with her lips between his navel and his fat pad. When she reached that hanging roll, gelatinous, heavy, soft, juicy, she sighed with deep satisfaction. Her whole attention turned to his fat pad and the erection it hid. It was so big, like a second belly under his gut, and the texture was something out of a dream. It poured from her hands like water, and bounced like rubber, while being pillow-soft. She couldn’t imagine ever tiring of his fat.

His satisfied noises made her bold, Mariana wanted to hear more. Though his belly was heavy, she was strong enough to lift it with ease, and quickly slid under to take his cock into her mouth. Her tongue flickered over the swollen fat head with a grateful sigh, and even from under his belly, his grunts and sighs were heard.

“Mariana,” he moaned through a full mouth, “Sweet girl, yes!” His praise was as good as chocolate. She sucked harder, what she lacked in technique she made up for in enthusiasm and attentive sensitivity. Did he shudder when she did this? Or moan if she did that? She was a quick study.

His whole body bounced with her motion, and his cries grew louder and louder until his seed flooded her mouth, salty, bitter, yet incredibly gratifying. She swallowed as she emerged from under his belly, blinking in the dim light and looking dazed.

He beckoned to her, and she slinked up the bed on all fours like a cat, and curled against him. “Was that good?” she asked nervously. Her eyes were wide and her lips swollen and ruddy from sucking his cock.

“Wonderful,” he assured her. “And we are far from done for the night, mon ange.”

At that, she sat up straight, eyes somehow even wider. “May I ride you?”

Henri looked pleasantly surprised. “If that’s what would please you, yes, ma petite chérie.” He hooked his fingers at the crease of his belly and pulled up. “Your throne awaits.”

She giggled, then covered her mouth, embarrassed. Imagine, some people lived with this much happiness every day! Her skirt was tossed away, then her blouse, but Henri had to help untie her stays. Her hands were shaking with excitement.

Once nude, she scrambled to seat herself on his cock. Her cunny was already slick with desire, and she desperately wanted him inside her. His girth sank into her, stretching her, filling her, and yet she only wanted more and more.

Her hips rocked and ground against his, driving him deeper within her. His belly flowed into her lap, warming her with blood-engorged weight, and his eyes narrowed in bliss.

“Drink from me!” she cried and thrust her wrist to his lips. Henri needed no encouragement from this desperate Slayer. He stabbed his fangs into her thin, slight wrist and gulped down more of her sweet, fragrant blood. Another rapturous rush filled Mariana’s body, making her gasp and wail.

Hips thrust, fat and flesh bounced, hands clasped, and mouths kissed, licked, and drank in an upward spiral of ecstasy until Mariana reached the height of her pleasure. Her head lolled back and wild, bestial cries burst from her. Her sex gripped and milked his cock in pulsing waves. She felt him flood her core, his hands clutching hers, moaning in perfect bliss.

Mariana fell onto her vampire’s body, held in his embrace, cradling his big belly in her arms. He ruffled her hair, but neither spoke.

It may have been minutes or hours later, time was irrelevant to the pair. The thick curtains seemed to glow from behind – dawn was breaking.

“Henri, thank you,” Mariana finally said.

“Non, non, merci, mon bijou,” he replied. “Do you feel better acquainted with pleasure now?”

“I do,” she laughed. “I truly do.”

Henri pulled her in for a kiss. The taste of her blood lingered in his mouth when she caressed his tongue with hers.

She didn’t mind it at all.