A/N: Whether or not Eric would have tortured Sookie for information, as he threatened, is a moot point. Was he just trying to scare her, by using an empty threat he had no intention of carrying out? Possibly. Would he have tortured her, with regret? Possibly - he's a vampire, after all, so who knows. In response to that question, here's an answer - a middle way that I like best of all.

As ever, I own nothing.

I was surprised at how comfortable and safe I felt in Eric's arms. I remembered how I'd told him that I asked him to go with me to the orgy because I felt safe with him; I remember him telling me that was crazy. Lying in his arms, I wasn't so sure.

On the other hand… "Would you really have tortured me?"

He was silent for a moment. "There are ways and ways of torturing people," he said.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I wasn't thinking of using pincers and blades and shackles, if that's what you mean," he said. "Mediaeval and barbaric. It lacks finesse."

I was pretty sure it was weird to feel safe in the arms of someone who talked about torturing with finesse as though it was something you might learn at finishing school. "I'm not sure that answers my question, either."

His fingers traced lightly over the bare skin of my back – I was only in my underwear. And I definitely shouldn't have felt as relaxed as I was right then, that being the case. "Do you ever think of me? When you're with Bill, for example."

I shrugged a shoulder awkwardly; it wasn't easy, lying down. "You come up in conversation from time to time." I wasn't sure where he was going with that, or what it had to do with my question.

"No doubt. But that wasn't what I meant. Do you ever think of me when you should be thinking of Bill?" His fingers were stroking gently over my sides, one hand lingering close to where I was staked, then it moved on to another area without touching it. I felt myself relax slightly.

"Where are you going with this?" I asked.

He bent his head close to mine, and murmured in my ear, "Answer the question, Sookie."

"My thoughts are my own business," I said, with an attempt at dignity. It was hard to pull off with a very skilled vampire stroking and caressing me and being quite that close. I shivered, but stayed put. I didn't try to stop him, either.

He didn't move away. "Do you think of me when you're in bed with him?" he went on, his voice still soft, barely above a whisper. One thumb started circling a nipple lazily through the lace of my bra. I tried to haul back my self-control. I didn't have much success.

"Why would I do that?" I replied. My voice sounded unsure, rather than challenging. This wasn't good.

He chuckled. "Answer the question." He slipped his hand under the material and cupped my breast, thumb still circling. I bit back a moan. "Have you thought of me whilst having sex with Bill?"

His thumb gave a light flick, and I gasped. "Yes."

"Yes, you have, or yes, you like that?" he asked calmly.

I tried not to answer, really I did. "Both."

His thumb flicked a couple more times, then stilled. "Tell me what you were thinking. Did you wish you were with me, not him?"

I glared at him. "What?"

"The answer, Sookie."

I wasn't happy with the stillness of his hands. Then his fingers gave a sudden, unexpected tweak of my nipple, and my hips arched off the bed. "Yes!"

"Yes…?"

"Yes, I wished it was you," I gasped.

His hand stroked down my front, and under my underwear. "Do you fantasise about being with me?"

I tried to manoeuvre myself better, but he wouldn't let me move. "Yes," I whispered, blushing painfully.

"Tell me your fantasies."

What? "Just like that? No," I scoffed.

He crooked his finger against me, and I moaned. "Tell me."

I tried again, in vain, to rub against him, but he still prevented me. "T-the night of the orgy," I squeaked out.

"What about it?" his finger moved almost soothingly – except it did anything but soothe me.

"That Bill – didn't interrupt," I gasped out.

"And?" his knuckle pressed against my entrance, and I whimpered with need. "What did we do?"

"You… undressed me."

"Quickly? Slowly?"

"More like ripped my clothes off," I answered breathily. His knuckle pressed a little harder.

"Then what?" The pressure eased off, and I whimpered again at the loss of sensation.

Things started getting a little hazy round the edges. "Y-you kissed me. Pretty much all over." I gave a sigh of pleasure as the pressure returned.

"Anywhere in particular?"

I shifted, trying to follow his hand as he moved it away. "Down my neck, my breasts, across my stomach… right, um… there."

"Where?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Right where your hand is now," I said with a dry, needy sob.

"Here?" he asked, fingers unfurling over me.

"Yes, yes, right there!"

"And then?"

His fingers continued their playing. "Then you laid me back against the bonnet of your car… it was still warm…" I found myself rocking unconsciously in time with the movements of his hands. "You… took me…. There on the bonnet of your car… over and over…" I almost shrieked as his finger finally slid inside me. "Yes!"

"Anything else?" His finger slowed to an agonising speed, and I moaned in discontent.

"You bit me, and we both came," I admitted finally.

Then his finger was plunging in and out of me, a second soon joining it, and I clutched at his arms for steadiness. Knowing I had to be quiet, I bit his shoulder to stop myself from crying out, and nearly gagged as I tasted his blood; I hadn't realised I'd bitten so hard.

Judging by his reaction, though, he didn't mind.

I blinked fuzzily at him as he pulled back, and very deliberately – whilst maintaining eye contact – licked his fingers clean. "Does that answer your question?" he asked, his voice slightly strained.

"Question? I had a question?" I responded. At that moment, I couldn't for the life of me remember what it was.

He chuckled, and bent forward, kissing me thoroughly. "Gods, the taste of us," he groaned.

I wondered why I felt more aroused than perturbed at the mingled flavours of his blood and my juices. I certainly wasn't thinking straight. But then, being around Eric always did seem to send my rational brain slightly off-kilter.

He slid off the bed. "I must go and run your errands for you," he said, as if nothing had just happened. He brushed his lips to mine gently once again. He paused, just before leaving the room. "What will be most telling, of course, is what happens next time I question you – whether you answer me straight away, or wait to be… persuaded." And with that, he was gone.

I remembered my first question, and all his subsequent questions and my answers to them, and fell limply back against the pillow with a groan.

I was in so much trouble.