Pam woke up to the sound of distant guitar strings thrumming. She stretched out on the bed, relishing the luxurious softness of it all. Working for royalty, even on a part time basis, was a gift to her senses. An enormous bouquet of lilies and roses sat on the vanity, their thick perfume mixing with the crisp overtone of Chanel no. 5 and the underlying scent of human blood and sex. Grabbing her phone from the night stand, she checked her messages, absentmindedly caressing the Egyptian cotton that felt like liquid on her skin. She deleted most of the texts without responding. The guitar played steadily on. Eric had sent two pictures the night before; both were portraits of unfortunately dressed bar patrons. The captions read, "I found a gift to celebrate your turning day" and "This one too". She smiled. He had sent her a text earlier in the evening as well, "Happy turning day, my child. When you finish your royal 'business' I have a surprise for you. Come home soon."

Pam closed her eyes. There was nothing she didn't love about being a vampire. Inhaling, she appreciated her enhanced senses, the electric hum of her predator's body, the love for her maker, constant access to women. The music stopped briefly and then began again, a slow, moody minor key. Pam's phone vibrated and she read the text with a chuckle "You sleep more than any vampire I know. Get out of bed and come see me".

Pam rose to her feet and threw on a robe. She padded over to the mirror and checked her hair before opening a small door, the edges outlined in dim light. Sophie-Anne was reclined in a chaise lounge. The table in front of her was cluttered with paperwork but her attention was focused on the instrument in her hands. They made eye contact briefly before the queen resumed her ministrations, masterfully coaxing music from the dull, copper strings. Pam took a seat across from the other woman and listened, her body still as granite. The room held several couches as well as a harp, piano and mandolin, all lovingly grouped together in the back. The queen's skill with instruments was well known, but she rarely played in front of others; it was a private pursuit, a means of relaxation. Sophie-Anne ended the song and set the guitar down. Pam was by her side in a flash. "Good morning" she drawled. Sophie-Anne gave her a smoldering look and her hands were under the robe so quickly that Pam could feel the dents where the strings had pushed against her fingertips.

Looking into the queen's concerned eyes, blood drying on her cheeks, Pam thought about explaining that she always cried on her turning day, that something about the perfection of living forever had collided with the color of Sophie-Anne's hair in the firelight to trigger a moment of uncontrollable gratitude. She opened her mouth and simply stated, "I'm not going to elaborate, but I'm happy."

Sophie-Anne's forehead relaxed. Her hands remained on Pam's cheeks, cradling gently. "Good. That certainly beats the alternatives."

"You were worried." Pam teased, "I knew you were in love"

Sophie-Anne rolled her eyes and pulled Pam close, her hands lingering on the shifting muscles of her back. Drying blood flaked off her skin and floated down onto the couch like edible ash. A few flecks landed on Sophie-Anne's lips and she licked them, relishing the way her mouth bloomed with Pam's taste as it rehydrated on her tongue. "You're still an infant, you know." The queen began. "If you're counting your time as a vampire in anything less than increments of one hundred, you're still young". Ignoring the jibe, Pam pressed her open mouth to Sophie-Anne's pulse and sucked gently. The low hum that vibrated along the column of the other woman's throat sent shivers along Pam's spine. She kissed a line up the queen's neck and found herself suddenly pinned down to the couch, Sophie-Anne perched on top of her, pelvis to pelvis.

"Take this off" the queen commanded, tugging on the hem of Pam's sweater.

Pam crossed her arms and lifted the garment over her head, tossing it behind her. She reclined on her elbows, hair cascading over the tops of her breasts. She was still as a statue, pink lace forming a rough border against the unblemished skin of her chest, eyes unblinking. Sophie-Anne traced Pam's bra strap with an index finger and snapped it lightly, meeting her gaze. Pam undid the clasp with one hand and resumed her position, breasts pushed forward as she smirked. Without prelude, Sophie-Anne's mouth formed an O at the swell of her left breast and her fangs ejected deep into Pam's skin. The blonde vampire let out a rare whimper. Sophie-Anne drank, firmly running her hands along the contours of Pam's body. She encountered the button of Pam's black pants and traced the zipper, letting her fingers drag between Pam's legs as her tongue and teeth teased her nipple. Pam's head fell back and her hips rolled against the queen's touch. She moaned softly as the punctures on her breast healed and Sophie-Anne's mouth traveled up her chest, embers flickering along her neck as red lips finally came to rest against her own.

" Sophie…" Pam whispered, clutching the queen's hair.

"Yes darling?" She could feel dampness seeping through Pam's pants, humidity rolling against her stomach as Pam wrapped her legs around her body and pulled her close.

"I want you to fuck me like I was human"

The queen felt her body spasm at the thought and their kisses deepened. "And…" Pam murmured against Sophie-Anne's mouth "I want to fuck you like you were human. Slow it down, feel every touch. I want to feel what it would have been like when we were alive"

Sophie-Anne's pelvis pressed hard against Pam's as she involuntarily pushed closer to her. It was an effort to keep her movements slow. Pam trailed her hands up the queen's arms and kneaded them into her hair, body pulsing with unreleased energy. Her usual quiet moans were replaced by breathless whimpers. Sophie-Anne could feel how badly she wanted this scenario to play out.

Pam slid the straps of the queen's nightgown off her shoulders and trailed meandering fingers along her skin. Negotiating her arms through the garment, Sophie-Anne allowed Pam to push the fabric down around her waist. Pam coaxed Sophie-Anne's body down so that the queen's weight pinned her between the softness of the cushions below and cool skin above. Sophie-Anne had retracted her fangs after drinking, and she made an effort to keep them in, but when Pam ground herself against the queen's thigh and whispered how wet she was, Sophie-Anne lost control and blood beaded up on their lips. Pam's chest was moving. She was breathing. Sophie-Anne mimicked her, and for a moment they lay together, remembering how it felt to be compelled to move against another person, slaves to the needs of the human body.

Sophie-Anne reached between them and undid the button on Pam's pants, sliding the zipper down slowly. She rested her hand at the juncture of Pam's thighs and kissed the other woman's neck, resisting the urge to puncture her skin and taste her. Sucking on the sensitive area where Pam's neck and shoulder met, she was pleased when the blonde woman started trembling. Sophie-Anne stood up, pushing her nightgown to the floor and maneuvering Pam's body until she was sitting upright on the couch, legs spread. Gripping the black cotton firmly, Sophie-Anne pulled off Pam's pants, grinning as Pam immediately slid a long leg over her shoulder. The queen trailed kisses along her pale calf and glanced up out of the corner of her eye; she was being watched intently. Tossing her hair behind her, the queen trailed her lips up Pam's thigh and buried her face in the damp lace panties that concealed Pam's skin from her eager lips. Pam exhaled like she was in pain and Sophie-Anne chuckled, biting lightly at the fabric

As Sophie-Anne drew the underwear over her hips, Pam grabbed the back of the couch and tried not to appear too invested in the interaction. Some force had gripped her, and she wasn't sure what invisible hand made her feel like she was experiencing the queen's touch for the first time. Her skin was on fire, her mind mesmerized. Sophie-Anne's hair slowly crept along her skin like fiery ivy as her mouth left tender imprints along her thigh. The shadows leapt, a spider murdered a moth in the corner, and Sophie-Anne's lips were teasing her clit with such expertise that Pam felt herself tear up with the sensation. A strangled sob escaped her throat. Sophie-Anne's tongue was brutally soft. In her attempt to play human, the queen did without the intense vibration that brought Pam to the edge over and over again. She flattened her tongue and dragged it slowly over Pam's slick skin, pulling the other woman's clit into her mouth and sucking lightly. She was rewarded by a low groan. Smiling her approval, the queen kept her lips in place and continued, the tremors flowing through Pam's body increasing as the tip of Sophie-Anne's tongue traced outlines in ever tightening circles.

"Oh God" Pam whispered, rolling her hips.

Sophie-Anne took her mouth away briefly. "God isn't doing this to you" she informed before latching on again, sucking hard and flicking her tongue quickly. Pam's head fell back and her hips moved in time with the queen's attention. A song crept into Sophie-Anne's mind as she heard Pam murmur her name and she hummed along with the string section, coordinating the strokes of her tongue as she imagined her fingers plucking away on a guitar. Pam's hands flew in different directions, her right covering her own mouth in an attempt to muffle the noise she was making, her left gripping Sophie-Anne's hair as the queen dug her fingers into Pam's thighs and built up speed. It didn't seem like a handicap to go without her supernatural abilities. Her lips and tongue seemed heavier, moments more drawn out. Pam's chest fluttered with movement and her breasts rose and fell enticingly. Sophie-Anne squeezed her thighs together to relieve some pressure. She reached the song's crescendo and held off, keeping Pam on the brink and appreciating the unusual lack of control she heard escaping her lover's mouth. Half an hour later, Pam came in waves as Sophie-Anne hummed a quiet nocturne, burying three fingers deep inside her.

How many ways can affection be expressed? Is it the ability to sit together quietly? Long pages of looping cursive devotions? Is a place built with love as steady as a sandstone arch or is it as frail, the years slowly but surely wearing away at those attachments that seemed inseparable? Timelessness eliminates the urgency of passion, and yet the bond that forms between the bystanders of centuries, those who watch their way of life crumble and reform, is a bond of relief, understanding and naked need. Pam looked at Sophie-Anne kneeling between her legs and observed her body as a living relic, her fangs emphasizing the softness of her lips. She began as a peasant and had risen to royalty; she exemplified the potential of their kind. She was transcendence. Pam's fangs came out and the queen was beneath her on the couch within seconds.

"I thought you wanted…"

"I did" Pam interrupted, "and it was excellent. However, for reasons I choose not to share, I've changed the plan." She sank her fangs into Sophie-Anne's neck and drank deeply. Both women shuddered. Pam slid down the queen's body leaving pinpricks of blood along the way.

"Are you going to attempt to match my skill with speed?" Sophie-Anne mocked

Pam halted and looked up into questioning blue eyes "No." she drawled. "No." She paused and lay her head down on Sophie-Anne's thigh, listening to the gurgle of blood beneath the surface, smelling the arousal that coated her skin. "You and I will never be human again. We will always be gifted with extensions of our senses that mortals will never attain. No, Sophie. I'm going to draw this out. I'm going to make you come in the next five minutes. And again in the next five. And again. I'm going to drink your blood and you're going to drink mine. This isn't speed." She punctured the skin of the queen's thigh and alternated lapping at the blood and the swollen skin between her legs. "This is intensity. This is potential." Sophie-Anne moaned in spite of herself. "Now lie back, sweetheart" Pam commanded "and think about me. Just me."

Thank you so much for reading! A lot of people start the story and don't get past chapter one, so I appreciate all of you who made it to the end. Please leave comments/suggestions because I love them and want to work on my writing. Sophie-Anne playing the guitar was inspired by Ann Calvi's instrumental interpretation of 'Joan of Arc'. It's worth looking into if you love beautiful women with instruments. XO