The restaurant was called Vinterra. High-css. Vampire-owned. No reservation, no seat. I didn’t pn to eat but ordered the most expensive wine. They brought it out in a crystal gss I held in my right hand.It was enough to keep eyes off me.

  The room was quiet except for silverware, low music, and careful words. Everyone spoke in half-truths. That’s where I found what I came for—at a table behind me, voices low.

  “Chapel in the north woods. Half buried. She still waits there.”

  “The Moroi?”

  “That one. Left at the altar. Never moved on. Doesn’t talk or eat. Just stands alone at the altar.”

  "Yet you did nothing?"

  "I tried, but something about it felt pointless, like a pce filled with grief. Even though I got a few good feels, it felt empty. Couldn't even get hard."

  No names. Just whispers.

  That was enough.

  Snow crunched under my bare feet. My robe trailed behind me, leaving a line in the frost. The chapel sat where the trees thinned—old stone, broken gss, and an altar still standing.

  Inside, it was colder.

  She stood alone.

  Her body was still. Thin gown clinging to pale skin. Barefoot like me. Hair long and dark, falling past her waist. A red choker around her neck held a small gss vial that caught what little light there was.

  She didn’t turn around.

  “You’re not the first to come here,” she said. Her voice was soft. “But you’re the first to stop at the door.”

  I stayed where I was.

  “I heard someone was still waiting,” I said. “I came to see if it was true.”“It is.”

  She turned slowly.

  I tilted my head.

  "Why are you talking to me?" I asked. "They said others came before. That you ignored them."

  Her voice was ft. "They didn’t stop at the door. They didn’t ask if I wanted to be alone."

  I nodded once. That made sense. It didn’t need more than that.Her eyes were red, soft, glowing, and steady. Her skin, pale with a pink hue, looked untouched by time. The ce and velvet of her gown clung to her chest and hips, thinned with age but never torn. Beneath the sheer yer, her natural D-sized breasts are easy to see. The cold showed their shape clearly. Her legs were long, smooth, and firm despite her stillness. Her hair moved only when she did.

  “You’re warm,” she said. “I can hear your heartbeat from here.”

  “Would you like me to leave?”

  She shook her head. "Just don’t move too fast."

  I stepped closer slowly.

  When I was near enough, she reached out. Her fingers brushed the inside of my wrist. She flinched.

  "That’s a lot," she said quietly.

  "Too much?"

  "No. It’s... new."

  She turned and sat on the edge of the altar.

  “You can come closer. If you go slow.”

  I stopped just before her knees.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Irina.”

  “I’m Lu.”

  She nodded her eyes on my chest now.

  "Your chest is hot," she whispered. "It makes my legs shake."

  "Do you want to feel more?"

  A long pause. Then she nodded.

  "Lu... can I ask something?"

  "Anything."

  "Tell me I’m wanted. Please."

  I lowered my head slightly.

  "I can tell you," I said. "Or... I can show you what it means. Would you let me? Just a glimpse of what I can give if you want."

  Her lips parted. Her breath hitched—but she nodded.

  "Then look into my eyes," I whispered.

  Her gaze met mine.

  Desire's Gaze.

  For a heartbeat, the cold chapel disappeared.

  She saw herself pressed to the altar, her legs wrapped around my waist, my warmth buried deep inside her. Her back arched. Her head was thrown back. Her mouth opened in a silent moan. Her gown was in tatters. Her nails dug into my shoulders. She rode every thrust with desperate hunger, not to feed but to feel.

  My voice whispered against her ear—soft, firm, patient.

  "You're wanted. Every part of you."

  The vision broke.

  Irina gasped.

  Her chest rose and fell. Her thighs clenched together. Her lips trembled.

  "That... was a glimpse?"

  "Only a glimpse."

  "I want it. All of it. Please."

  Her hands moved to her gown. She undid the front slowly, letting the fabric fall away.

  Her breasts rose and fell with her breath. Her nipples are hard from the cold. Her stomach was tight, her hips strong. She y back on the altar, gown pooling behind her, legs parting.

  "Breathe on me," she whispered.

  I leaned in, breathing softly against her neck, then down to her chest.She gasped. Her fingers dug into the altar. Her thighs twitched.

  When I kissed her between the legs, her whole body jerked. She cried out, sharp and breathless.

  "Please," she whispered. "Don’t stop. Not until—"

  I paused.

  "Say it."

  "Until I believe you. That I’m more than what they left."

  I kissed her deeper, slower, more purposeful.

  Then I pulled back.

  Her eyes fluttered open in confusion.

  "That was real," I said softly. "But I want to give you something more. Not just warmth. Something no one’s ever taken the time to give you. May I?"

  She nodded, breathless.

  I helped her sit up first—her back straight, breasts rising with each shaky breath. I guided her carefully off the altar, turning her to face it again.

  "Hands here," I said quietly.

  She pced her palms on the cold stone. I wrapped my arms around her from behind, resting my chest against her back so she could feel my warmth press in. She let out a slow gasp.

  "You're not cold anymore," she whispered.

  I leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. My hands stayed still on her waist, holding her steady.

  I moved slowly, letting my cock slide between her legs from behind, teasing but not entering. I breathed along her spine, and her whole body trembled.

  "You’re wanted," I said again, my breath warming her ear. "Not because of what you can give... but because of who you are."

  She whimpered.

  When I slid into her from behind, she cried out—not in pain, but in startled release. Her legs braced. Her hands pressed ft on the altar.I moved slowly, rocking forward with even pressure. No force. Just presence.

  Each thrust was deep, patient, and grounding. I held her hips steady as she moaned. Her back arched, hair spilling over her shoulder. Her breath fogged the altar.

  She tried to speak but only managed, "Lu... please..."I pressed my chest to her back again, wrapped one arm around her waist and the other across her chest, holding her close as I moved.

  "You’re not alone. You’re not forgotten."She came while being held that way—squeezing me tight, her moan swallowed against the cold stone. But I didn’t stop.

  She came hard, body clenching, voice breaking. Again. And again.

  Only when she could no longer move did I lift her into my arms.

  She pressed her cheek to my chest.

  "You’re really warm…"

  "I’ll hold you until the cold forgets you."

  She didn’t let go.

  ///

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