Rain pounded the tin roof of the cabin, lightning streaked across the sky and thunder rumbled, rattling the windows. The storm was unlike any he'd seen before, and Whittaker had seen plenty of storms in the four hundred years he'd roamed the earth. The only benefit the storm provided was a lack of sunlight, allowing him to ramble around the house regardless of the time of day. It had been so long since he'd seen the sun that he no longer missed it, not like he had the first hundred years of his existence.
The storm continued to rage outside, the darkness impenetrable to all except night creatures like him. As he scanned the tree line, he noticed something out of place. A small, white speck in the distance lying on the ground, one he hadn't noticed moments before. He watched intently, his breath hissing between his teeth when he realized it was a human. How one had managed to climb so far as to reach his cabin he had no idea. Regardless, he knew there was no way a fragile human would survive the storm.
Opening the cabin door, he rushed outside, reaching the prone figure's side in seconds. He stared down in amazement at a small, pale woman. Her clothing and hair, plastered to her body, left little to his imagination. Lifting her gently into his arms, Whittaker ran back to the cabin, slamming the door behind him.
As he stood dripping all over the floor, he gazed at the creature in his arms. Her breasts pushed against the material of her dress, now made transparent by the weather. Hardened nipples peeked at him through the sopping material, making his cock come to instant attention.
He felt like a schoolboy, unable to control his baser urges. Moving to the bedroom, he laid her on the bed and stripped her soaked dress from her body. His gaze skimmed over her glistening skin, from her full breasts to the curls at the junction of her thighs. Without thought, his hand reached for her, gently cupping a perfect breast. Her skin was cold, reminding him that she needed a towel and something warm to wear.
With a mental shake, he brought himself back to the here and now and sprang into action. Grabbing two large, fluffy towels from the bathroom, he dried her skin and wrung the water from her hair. While she slept, he would clean her clothes. He rummaged through his drawers until he found a black tee for her to wear. Slipping the garment over her head, he reluctantly covered her delectable body.
He wondered how she came to be so far up the mountain without shoes or underthings, and in a dress, no less, but all that would have to wait. He only hoped she didn't catch a fever from being in the rain for so long.
He looked down upon her for a moment longer, admiring her pale skin and dark hair. She looked like the quintessential English rose, dainty, delicate, and breathtaking. While her eyes had yet to open, he imagined they would be something soft like a hazel or maybe even a blue.
His gaze took in her form. She wasn't slim like the current fashion called for, but she wasn't fat either. No, she was what most in this modern time would call plump, but to Whittaker she was mouthwatering, and he didn't mean her blood. It took every ounce of willpower he owned to walk away.
He pulled the bedroom door closed behind him and moved silently through the small structure until he reached the laundry room. A powerful windmill and large generator on the property gave his cabin the energy it needed for electricity, allowing him the creature comforts so far from civilization. At times like these, he was thankful for having modern inventions on hand. The washing machine and dryer would make short work of cleaning and drying the thin garment in his hands.
Once finished, he moved back to the living room to watch the storm again. Perhaps the rain would keep his mind off his strange guest, and more importantly, help him keep his hands to himself. Her blood sang to him, but it was her body he wanted most.
Salena tossed and turned, trapped in a nightmare. Her boyfriend, Derrick, held a knife in his hand as he chased her through the woods. On and on she ran, long after he quit following, only stopping once exhaustion set in and she collapsed on the ground. A light in the distance gave her hope that someone lived nearby, but she knew she couldn't make it there on her own.
Waking with a gasp, she realized it wasn't a nightmare, but had actually happened. Sitting up, she scanned her surroundings, confused to find herself in a bedroom. She looked down at herself and saw a black tee in place of her dress. She'd obviously been rescued, but by whom?
Pushing back the covers, she rose unsteadily to her feet and walked the short distance to the bedroom door. Before she could open it, a man stepped inside.
"You're awake, I see."
She swallowed and stared at him in wonder, having never seen a man quite so beautiful. His black hair, layered to frame his face, fell to his shoulders. Eyes so blue they seemed ethereal watched her with concern. His nose was long and straight and led to full, kissable lips, ones she suddenly wanted to nibble.
Stubble along his square jaw gave him a bad boy look that she found to be oddly appealing. She wanted to run her fingers along that jaw and feel the rasp of his whiskers against her skin. She felt hypnotized, enthralled.
"Not talking?" he asked.
Her gaze returned to his. A mistake, for sure, as his stare robbed her of the ability to speak. For that matter, the man robbed her of all senses except the ones urging her to run her hands over his biceps and see if his mouth tasted as yummy as it looked.
Salena quickly looked away. She'd never reacted to men this way and wasn't sure she liked feeling this powerless now. In another moment, she would have been rubbing against him like a cat in heat. She didn't know what the hell was wrong with her, but she needed to figure it out and shut it off.
"Can you tell me how it is you came to be so far up the mountain?" he asked.
"I was running," she answered quietly, keeping her eyes averted, not wanting his gaze to mesmerize her again.
"Running from what?"
Salena looked up at him, trying to assess just how trustworthy he was, but once more, her body betrayed her. The moment their eyes met, she felt liquid heat zing through her and settle between her legs. Biting her lip, she looked away. If she didn't look at him, she wouldn't want him, right? At least, that was her theory. "A man was chasing me. I ran until I just couldn't run anymore."
He reached out and gently took her arm, turning her to face him. "I think you'd better tell me the whole story."