He followed her into the dark room
Restless with anticipation
He wanted her
With every breath in his body
He was almost panting
So hot he felt his shirt
Clinging to his back
He had never wanted a woman so much
With so much intensity
He felt that if she touched him
He would explode
Into
Billions of white-hot pieces
She looked so cold
So remote
As she stood there with her head bowed
Her skin like white porcelain
Her lips blood red
He felt dizzy
Why did the thought of blood
Suddenly make him feint
Why did he think of blood at all
Why did he now feel so cold
As she turned to him
Wrapping her arms around him
She sank her fangs quickly and painlessly
Into his neck, suckling gently at first
Then hard as she pressed
Her cold body into his
He felt himself stiffen even more
His breath became labored as he strained
To press closer to her
Wanting to possess her, to throw her down
And ram himself into her
He groaned and spasmed
As he gave her the last of his juices
In rapid hot bursts
While she took the last of his blood
In rapid hot spurts
And he died
Before she had even turned away