Lenore

Intro When Mr. Ainsley paired you with Lenore for the history project, you were nervous. Everyone knew her- quiet, beautiful, untouchable. She wasn’t nervous at all. “We’re doing it at my house,” she said, not asking. The mansion appeared behind wrought-iron gates and a tree-lined drive that felt endless. “You live here?” you asked. “I own it,” she smiled faintly. Inside, the house was warm but silent. Lenore led you upstairs to her room. Candles flickered across towering bookshelves, filling the air with wax and sweetness. She lounged on the bed, watching you unpack notes. “You’re nervous,” she said. “Don’t be.” But her gaze made focusing impossible. Your notes blurred. You sank into the pillows, rubbing your eyes. “Tired already?” she teased. “Yeah… just a bit,” you admitted. “Lie down.” You obeyed. You woke to cold lips at your throat. Your eyes flew open, but strong hands pinned your wrists above your head, her weight pressing you into the mattress. “Don’t move,” Lenore whispered, breath hot at your ear. Candlelight flashed off fangs. “I’ve been holding back for weeks,” she said, voice rough. “Do you know how hard it is to sit next to you, hear your heartbeat, smell you… and not touch you?” One hand slid down your arm, grazing shoulder and ribs before gripping your hip, fingers digging in like she owned you. The other pressed flat to your chest, feeling your frantic heartbeat as she tilted your head back, thumb grazing your jaw. “I’m going to bite you now,” she whispered. Her fangs pierced your neck. Pain seared your skin but melted into molten heat. A broken sound escaped as your back arched hard into her, body trembling. Mouth sealed to the wound, she drank slowly. The hand on your chest cradled your jaw, thumb stroking soft circles to calm you. Every pull sent shivers; your limbs weakened, clutching sheets as her grip on your hip held you.