AN: Oh boy. Here I go again. So, this is the result of me watching this scene from True Blood a thousand times while procrastinating studying. And of course, I have an idea that just won't shut up until I write it down. Gah. Not sure if I'll continue this, or leave it as a one-shot. We'll see.

The timeline for this story is sort of an Alternate Universe. So, what if Sookie really had gone and seen Eric after Godric died on the roof and the events in the dream WERE TRUE. This is a continuation of what might have been. So the moment Eric's fangs pop and he looks down at Sookie in that dream sequence, is where this continues.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Thanks to seastarr08 who beta'd this, she is very awesome. *big hug*

He was staring down at me, his cheeks stained with his bloody tears, his fangs extended and a vulnerable expression on his thousand year old face. Was I really doing this? Without considering the consequences? I turned my head to the side, exposing my neck to him, my heartbeat louder than my panting of fear and anticipation. I felt his hand cradle the back of my head, his thumb touching just under my ear, and I shivered involuntarily. I was surprised when he bit down, I cried out, his fangs piercing the unmarked skin. Right away the sensation travelled through my veins and my core throbbed in response. My nails dug into his shoulder as he drank deep.

My hand tangled in his hair, I started reliving my dream of him, of us, which had rocked me to my core the night before. I gasped. His weight pressed on me, his cool skin touched mine and his mouth on my neck, taking me inside him was powerful and demanding. The pleasure hit me in waves, hardly giving me time to resurface. My legs went to his hips, squeezing him between them. I needed him closer. This overwhelming desire to be consumed by Eric Northman often left me feeling empty – and it wasn't the fact that he was devouring me at the moment.

He pulled away from my neck with a growl and looked down at me, his eyes full of emotion I did not understand. I wasn't sure I ever would. His thousand year old mind was completely foreign to me. Blood dripped down the side of his mouth, a drop onto my chest, just above my cleavage. I stared at him, his look of wonderment, leaving me disarmed.

I was surprised by my feelings for Eric. Whether it was his bit of blood I had ingested yesterday or not...I didn't think so. I couldn't deny that I was attracted to Eric before then. As much as I wanted to deny it, now, my feelings were influenced and he was impossible to not think about – it was unbearable to ignore him.

And watching him with Godric – talking with Godric. I put a hand to his cheek, gently nudging him down to my lips. He watched me cautiously as he lowered, closing his eyes, before I did the same. His lips were soft, cool and skilled. He was a completely different entity from the vampire I was used to. Bill. My brain wasn't willing to process that. It was a mental block, of my own creation, which would allow me to think of nothing but the present.

Eric was devastated. He needed me.

Strangely...I found myself needing him.

I felt his hand move from my knee up my thigh, leaving a trail of heat on my skin. I was dizzy. I forgot to breathe. He pushed my dress up to my hip. He pulled from my lips glancing down at my underwear. He looked back at me, his eyes searching for permission. I nodded, swallowing nervously.

Would I be good? I was relatively inexperienced. He had centuries of women, perfected the art of sex. Would I be a disappointment? Would he regret it? Would his pursuit of me halt? Did I want it to stop? I put my hands on his face bringing him in for another kiss, desperate for some reassurance that he wanted me. He didn't do anything but sweetly kiss me, tenderly, carefully, as if I was made of glass and I might break if he handled me wrongly.

We slowly parted and he lifted my dress over my head, leaving me in my bra and panties. I shivered despite my flushed body and the flickering fire. He put a hand to my hair and let my ponytail free; my hair down was a relief. His large hand hovered over my body, I found myself arching my back, aching for him to touch me. He brought it to my rib and kissed me again, softly before his hand slipped behind me and my strapless bra was gone. His glassy eyes darkened as he took in my breasts. He looked lost, as if he didn't know what to do next.

"Eric." I exhaled, buzzing for him – only thinking of him and me, joining. His hand lightly, barely, grazed my breasts and I stuck out my chest desperate for his touch. He was taking this slow and it was agony. I wanted to lick away his tears, but his beauty by the fire, his skin glowing, his devastation clear, had me reluctant to change one thing. He leaned forward his mouth so close to my breasts, I strained for him to touch, his tongue lightly flicked my right nipple and I gasped at the sensation from that one small taste. My lower region throbbed painfully, like it never had before, and the anticipation was something I was not used to. The waiting, the testing – I was trembling, weak for him.

He moved so slowly, so quietly, so tentatively. He watched my heaving chest in fascination, his lips wetting my other nipple, leaving me only wanting him much more. It was approaching a painful need that only he could satisfy.

"It's day." I remembered. He was still awake. He wasn't pulled in by the first sun like Bill always was.

Eric's eyes met mine. "It's you." His lips crashed into mine and things started. My leg hitched, wrapping up around his waist, my warm flesh against his bare icy back. His necklace scraping between the valley of my breasts as we kissed passionately, his tongue meeting mine. Despite his vampirism, the chemistry and somehow the heat between the two of us was undeniable.

I pushed my body up, begging for every inch of his skin to be pressed flush against mine, for him to be buried deep within me. He pulled back, and I whimpered at his absence, as he pushed my leg close to my chest and the other, as he went under my bottom and lifted me to help remove my panties. My heart was so loud, so erratic that I was afraid for my health. My white lace panties were tossed off the bed and it was just me, naked, while he stayed in his black pants a reminder of his night. I put my hands at his belt, sitting up. He watched me his eyes heavy-lidded as I undid the buckle, pulling it from the loop. I was nervous. My palms were sweaty, my hands were shaking as I got the button and fly undone. I looked up at him. He was looming. His expression was so tender and full of passion that I was stilled. He put a hand to my jaw and kissed me softly. I made a noise against his mouth and suddenly he was on top of me, his pants swiftly gone.

I parted my legs and he settled between them doing exactly what I wanted. He had me close as if he didn't want me any further away from him than I wanted him. The idea of being parted from Eric suffocated me. He was my air, water, life. He watched me carefully as he inhaled and his eyes clouded with desire, smelling my sex. His eyes locked on mine – he pushed in.

My dream had not prepared me for his size. I cried out as he stretched me in a way I hadn't been. I froze and he watched me, unwilling to move until I was okay. I took a moment, feeling tears spring up to my eyes. I nodded, numb and exhaled. He pulled out, and I wondered if him being out of me was worse than the pain. He buried himself in me. He was hardly blinking, hardly showing any form of emotion as he waited for me. I wondered if this was lacklustre for him. For me, I was absorbed in him, I wanted to be a part of him and I wanted him further inside than anyone, making me feel all these feelings every day, every minute.

My leg moved up, urging him to move in rhythm and I nodded slightly. He started his pace. I moaned as his long cock stroked me inside, causing ripples of pleasure throughout my body. I was a mess and things hadn't even picked up. It didn't take long before I came. He kissed either cheek, like I had done to him earlier, before kissing my lips.

I had never imagined a thousand year old Viking vampire Sherriff could be so sweet and so loving.

He pushed our skin closer together, his hips moving in a lazy rhythm, perfected at hitting the right spot each time. His lips went to my neck as he trailed open-mouthed kisses up to my jaw, to my ear.

"Take my blood, Sookie Stackhouse. Take all of me," he growled. I thrilled, my toes curled. He thrust into me, I felt his swollen balls hit my ass and I inhaled sharply. His eyes were back to focusing on my responses and suddenly, he flipped us and I was on top of him. I tried to gain my equilibrium. The tendons in his neck were strained as he leaned up, his fangs exposed, his eyes swirling, a mix of emotions. His arm came up from my hip and brought his wrist to my mouth. I rocked against him, and for the first time, his eyes rolled backs slightly, a grunt escaping his cool facade. I licked the inside of his wrist playfully, moving my pelvis on him. He was shaking in anticipation, bucking into me.

Eric Northman surrendering control. To me. I bit down hard, having never done this before, never imagined it. He shouted out, "Yes!" My heart did a back flip. I pulled at the wound, his thick, warm blood travelling, sticky down my throat. He looked positively unhinged as his eyes glowed into mine thrusting up into me as more of his blood entered my system. "Fuck, Sookie, fuck. This is best. This is right," he groaned, holding me tight.

His wound closed and he flipped me onto my back, the breath knocked right out of me. He thrust hard, and I let out a guttural noise, arching into his lithe body. My hands travelled up his back to the nape of his neck. He found my mouth as I played with his hair, our lips vibrating against each other. My hips met his each thrust, driving us further into one another time and time again.

"This is right," he said against my lips.

"Eric," my voice was high. "Please," I begged. He lifted my leg up, onto his shoulder and my eyes widened at his depth as he slowed down, pushing in, allowing me to feel every bit of sensation as I clamped down on him, the further he delved. When he reached the hilt his eyes rolled back completely, shutting, his mouth open, his teeth sharp, when I ran my fingers over them. He pulled out one last time and left me reeling as he bit into my shoulder, thrusting deep inside. I cried out as my orgasm crashed into me thanks to the two-hundred pound, broad-shouldered, blond haired Viking, fucking me into the bed in a hotel in Dallas. I had never felt this good. I'd regret it tomorrow. Maybe.

He roared his release, collapsing on top of me, his weight welcome. I wrapped my arms around, pulling him close to me. He shuddered, muttering nonsense, his lips at my shoulder, licking the bite mark he just made.

I wasn't sure how long we lay there, but I had to leave him.

I couldn't stay. Not now. I thought of Bill, less sure of us, than I had been before.

"I have to go," I muttered, pushing at his chest to get off. He rolled over, the effects of daylight finally seeping in. "I'm sorry," I said to him, remembering Godric. How could I forget? I felt awful about that.

He looked at me, his eyes reminded of his pain. "I'm sorry too." I ached for further explanation.

I didn't say much else as I left his room, closing the door, aware of the daylight. I made my way back to my room with Bill; too full to feel guilty.

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