“At the Burying Point”
\nby Melissa Hogle<\/p>\n
He slipped through the Salem masses, letting their ebb and flow carry him across the center of celebration. Salty ocean and sticky-sweet caramel wafted above the countless costumed bodies. Street performers breathed fire while preachers fervently warned of the Devil. Samuel passed kiosks, headed down side streets. All he sensed was her and the closer he got, the more intense her presence became.<\/p>\n
Strong hands pulled at his gut. \u2026I\u2019ve missed you\u2026<\/em> Her voice tempted across the waves. \u2026Oh, how I\u2019ve missed you\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cAmmon,\u201d Always his last name, whispered as if he was the god.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Breath caught, blood rushed, as she came into sight. The man shifted to gain bearings, self-control. Skin flushed. She looked the same as when they met, as he imagined she\u2019d looked alive and known only as \u201cHigh Seas Cecilia\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cI was starting to think you wouldn\u2019t come.\u201d She slid from the stone wall into his arms. His heart pounded into her, she inhaled his scent. \u201cThat I had gotten the wrong day, wrong season.\u201d Time did not move for her as it did him. A month was a minute, a year, a day.<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d He muttered into windswept hair. \u201cI\u2019m here.\u201d Aged ten years while she’d aged none.<\/p>\n Tongue peeked between teeth in her sigh-hiss. \u201cMissed you\u2026so much.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMe too.”<\/p>\n \u201cDeeper in?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor the best.\u201d<\/p>\n They slipped over the wall, were swallowed by the private darkness of the cemetery.<\/p>\n Samuel smelled oceans of wild blood when she flashed in close, knocked him back into a centuries old tomb. \u201cCe-\u201d Lips crashed, silenced his mouth and mind.<\/p>\n Waves roared in shared breathing, tides turned with tongues. A symbiosis was created, a passing of air that suggested, without him, she\u2019d cease completely. He pulled back only when there was a dizzying risk of drowning. His heart raced against her, he panted, but felt nothing in return. No heartbeat. No true breath. She could undo him, but he barely made an impact.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry.\u201d He sighed, licked the smooth memory of her from his lips.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2026overwhelm me, wonderfully, but I\u2026\u201d He chuckled. \u201cI can barely keep up with you.\u201d<\/p>\n Chilled hands held his face, fingers traced faint wrinkles. \u201cWithout you I\u2019m just a parasite.\u201d Her lips brushed his. \u201cA zombie.\u201d She nuzzled against him, inhaled his exhale. \u201cYou give me life.\u201d<\/p>\n His next kiss was confident, turned insistent. Moan revved to growl as her tongue forked to wrap around his. Massaged, stroked, teased all the ways it could pleasure his fast hardening cock. That wasn\u2019t what he wanted though, not now. Now he wanted her, to be inside her, to give her the rush she forever gave him.<\/p>\n They worked each other\u2019s belts, buttons, and zippers. Spun along the edge of the tomb, stripping what they could, until he lifted her up. Her bared legs wrapped, thighs tightened. With every roll of her hips, he replied in kind.<\/p>\n Nails raked shoulders and left stinging excitement in their wake. Tension built in chest, at swelling cock, as she tugged sandy curls. Free hand brushed darker curls and his tongue nicked against her fangs. The rush barreled through him, he broke the kiss in search of salt-glinted skin. Neck, shoulder, chest, where he nipped breasts.<\/p>\n She took him in hand, stroked. \u201cAh-!\u201d Voice pitched at impale, soothed out into a hiss that matched his groan.<\/p>\n There was always a moment, a single shock, of cold. It stopped his breath, but not his desire. Long, slow, thrusts teased as mouth ghosted over her flesh. \u201cShow me.\u201d He shifted to look at her, kissed her lips. He told her she was beautiful, praised her name, prayed to her. \u201cPlease\u2026\u201d Another kiss. \u201cLet me see.\u201d<\/p>\n Downcast eyes looked up; once round pupils were slit vertically and irises shone like lightning in a storm. This was the purest she could be, with him still alive. Aroused, primal, woman and beast both. She locked ankles, pulled him in deeper.<\/p>\n Her head dropped into his shoulder, twisted to the crook of his neck, and he imagined he\u2019d finally overwhelmed her. Hoped it, even knowing the risks that came. Cool breath and sharp fangs ran across jugular until he shivered. \u201cIt’s okay\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Hips snapped, claws drew red lines from ass to shoulders. Cecilia turned her face away, clenched jaw and let out a near pained groan.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s okay\u2026\u201d In the end, he trusted her, even if she didn\u2019t trust herself. He slipped a hand between them, felt himself slide in and out, and curled his fingers to brush her clit.<\/p>\n Cecilia gasped, whipped head back to bury fangs. They broke through layers of skin, popped open his vein and her heart began to beat in time with the life pumping into her mouth. Now she heated, flushed, sweated. She shuddered inside and out.<\/p>\n Gratefulness mixed into Samuel\u2019s arousal as his love moaned low and long into his flesh. His thrusts sped; her fingers took over at her clit. \u201cFu-\u201d The tightness around his cock grew demanding, juices came in waves across his length. \u201cAh!\u201d He knew, once her teeth left, he wouldn’t last long. Even now he sensed his energy fading to bliss.<\/p>\n He fell over, cock spilling heat. She gripped the tomb\u2019s edge, her teeth clenched with the rest of her as orgasm took hold. She pulled back fangs so he spilled inside her once again. The stone in her hand cracked, crumbled.<\/p>\n Every last bit of strength was used to stay upright, conscious, as he near collapsed against her. Tears rolled down his face, blood down neck and chest, but he smiled in the ecstasy of pleasure. His body cooled, numbed.<\/p>\n \u201cDrink,\u201d She cooed.<\/p>\n He knew what she offered, but turned it down. \u201cJust\u2026hold me.\u201d He remained inside her as darkness took hold. He would recover in her arms, not by her blood.<\/p>\n –<\/p>\n Melissa Hogle has a Master\u2019s in English, B.A. in Psychology, and a history of writing about true crime and pop culture. She can often be found in her own mind or on her twitter at\u00a0@wickednerdery<\/a>\u00a0Her past non-fiction writings can be read at her blog,\u00a0wickednerdery.com<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" “At the Burying Point” by Melissa Hogle He slipped through the Salem masses, letting their ebb and flow carry him across the center of celebration. Salty ocean and sticky-sweet caramel wafted above the countless costumed bodies. Street performers breathed fire while preachers fervently warned of the Devil. Samuel passed kiosks, headed down side streets. All … Continue reading Halloween Microfiction: At the Burying Point by Melissa Hogle<\/span>