Appetites

She wasn't thirsty for champagne (247 words)

Perambulating about the glitterati and haut monde in the atrium of the Grand Opera House where the embassy ball was being held, Silas tugged at the high collar of his cravat.

For years he had remained buttoned up literally and figuratively, his manner of dress covering himself as if to hide his vulnerability from the world. He was an eligible bachelor with an immaculate reputation, highly esteemed among his peers and well regarded among society. Now he had a new reason to make sure his cravat covered him to his jawline.

He wondered if she would come tonight, seducing him once more. Beauty was not her only attribute. Silas knew that by the mere quirk of her brow that he would eagerly yield to her wants yet again, enthralled by her confident sensuality, her indomitable mind, and the way she exuded power from her bearing alone. For a man who considered himself highly moral, he found himself easily casting aside such societal expectations and conformity for her.

When she finally decided to grace the ball with her presence, she glided into the atrium with an air of insouciant aloofness. Lavinia could have had her pick of any of the other men covetously gawking at her with unfettered longing. Ignoring them, only one caught her eye. Silas seemed to be the only one who captured her attention and was able to fulfill her appetites that were not merely instinctual.

Her eyes already claimed him possessively from across the room. She knew Silas could feel her gaze upon him.

Slowly, he turned around and met her regard.

Yes, tonight he would bare his soul and body to her once more, willingly surrendering to her every desire and want.

Lavinia smiled, her vampire fangs glistening in the warm candlelight.