A/N: I have been told by readers of the books (I am not one of them) that Harris' vampires for some reason don't engage in sex with their fledglings. But keep in mind, this is a True Blood fanfic, and in the True Blood-verse I believe it's likely that they do. Enjoy!

Eric's blonde hair looked utterly dazzling messed up and in contrast to a dusty brick wall. Pam smiled. She just happened to have a 1,000-year old vampire - her Master at that - all pinned up in front of her, and the first thing she could think about was his hair. Well, maybe not the first thing… Eric sat on the wooden bench in all his naked glory, his hands on each side of his head. He was attached to the wall by a contraption of Pam's own design - hoops of thin silver chains, covered in lace, tightly snaring his wrists and digging into his skin. It was just enough to burn, just enough to hurt him a little. He could break them as easily as snapping his fingers, of course, but that would ruin the game. And this was a game they both enjoyed thoroughly. Pam let her gaze wander over Eric's body, pale skin, broad chest, muscular abs and firm thighs... Her tongue darted out to lick her upper lip as the tour came to her favorite stop. She lingered there for a short while, then lifted her eyes from his groin up to his face. He met them with a brazen grin, not cringing even the slightest though the silver made the skin at his wrists sizzle faintly.

"Har du fått ditt lystmäte?" he said cunningly.

Pam crossed her arms over her full breasts beneath their leather sheath, only broadening her smile. But then Eric cocked his head, still staring her down, so that his fringe fell over his face, and that was just about all the self-control that she had. She walked over to him, dragging her fingertips over his skin from his shoulders down to his hips as she went gracefully down to her knees. Eric leant into her touch just barely, and when her lips skimmed the inside of his right thigh he gave a short sigh.

"Finally…" he murmured, his fingers curling into his palms.

Pam threw him an amused glance, then returned to her actions. She pried his thighs apart with her hands, burying her face in his scent. The tiny blonde hairs tickled her nose as she placed butterfly kisses on his skin, alternating them with short strokes of her tongue and sucking nips. By the time her cheek brushed the side of his manhood Eric was hard like a rock. Just the feeling of it so close to her sent a jolt of heat through Pam, making her nether regions tingle and her mouth water. She moved up, caressing its whole length with her breath, ignoring the tip on purpose. Then, she grabbed the base with her hand in quite a rough manner and slowly lowered her mouth onto the engorged flesh, one inch at a time. The chains clattered above her as she drew a low 'mhm'-sound from Eric's lips, and even with her mouth so excessively occupied Pam managed a grin. She knew that he wanted his hands in her hair right now for control, to set the pace. Too bad. She placed her free hand firmly on his hip as she went down all the way down, feeling his muscles flex as the tip of his dick brushed the far back of her mouth. From there she started sucking, her pace irregular, sometimes hard and fast, jerky, and sometimes tauntingly agonizingly slow, her tongue in a flickering dance along the sensitive underside. In her dreams she could do this for hours, torturing them both, but as it were she grew wetter and weaker by each shiver and each one of Eric's grunts. It wasn't too long until she forced herself to release him, leaving his throbbing member glistening and harder than ever before.

Eric's gaze was piercing as she climbed into his lap, his fangs visible between his parted lips. She kissed him, and he returned it with a ferocity that promised her a night she would endure the effects from for weeks. Pam tangled her fingers in his golden strands, drawing him closer, at the same time lowering her bare thighs to his hips, but stopping just before he could reach her. Eric grunted low in his throat, and Pam felt her fangs lunge forward as she answered by stroking her wetness teasingly across the tip of his arousal. That was the moment when Eric ripped the chains out of their sockets with a snarl, they fell clattering to the ground as he pushed her down, his hands on her hips like vices as he thrust upwards hard, filling her to the brink. Pam howled in pleasure and pain as she was forced to adjust to him so quickly, and Eric shoved one of his still bleeding wrist into her mouth, his other arm curling around her waist as he begun a merciless pace.

She grabbed his neck, moaning as a few drops of his blood escaped into her mouth from the rapidly closing wound, her thighs trembling and her juices spilling all over, making each thrust from Eric more true, more incredible. He locked his arms around her back, panting as she rocked against him, her hair spilled over his naked shoulder as their eyes met. Pam's hands turned to fists in his hair, breathing it as his scent made her ache and throb. As Eric dipped his hand down between them, rubbing his thumb against her clit in time with his thrusts, a hundred year old picture burst into Pam's vision. It was of him, Eric, on a dark, misty London street, dressed in black, his blonde hair shining like a wicked lantern in the moonlight, beckoning her. Like a reversed halo. She had known then and there that life as she knew it was going to end, and she had embraced it, like she embraced him now, his strong arms around her body, his hardness deep inside of her, fucking her to oblivion. He twisted his thumb against her pearl roughly two more times, and she was cumming with his lips against his, her contractions around his shaft drawing Erics own orgasm out of him. Mouth against mouth, her moan drowned in Eric's wolf-like snarl, his fangs scraped her and their blood was mixing yet again, not unlike that time so many years ago. Through her shivers, she felt him pull her close, and she closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder.

Not much was said for a while as the rested, locked together, and in a secluded corner of Pam's mind she thought that this was the difference between her and Eric's sessions and the numerous encounters he had with beautiful breathers. It was hardly true, but she liked to think that it was. Her fingers were forever toying with that blonde mane, and she lifted her head to watch it gleam in the faint candlelight.

"You know what would look absolutely stunning on you?"

"Your cum?"

A wicked smile. She returned it with glee, the hand in his hair forming a firm fist.

"That… and highlights."


Swedish translation:

Har du fått ditt lystmäte? – Are you done enjoying yourself?