Pressed against your neck in a gentle embrace,
My thirst arises like a beast inside me,
I can feel your veins pulsing against my lips,
Your lifeblood flowing inside them, just out of reach.

I pull back, slowly, to gaze into your eyes,
And smile, for I know how mine must appear,
Black as coal, but you do not flinch, nor look away,
Nor do you show any slight sign of fear.

My hands slide up, your cheeks fitting into my palms,
As if they were made especially for me to hold,
My mouth presses tenderly against yours,
And I apologise silently for my eternal cold.

I feel your fingers, entertwining lustfully with my hair,
As I fight my own kind of lust, deep within the soul,
Now that I can taste your sweet lips, dangerously close,
I must pry you away, before I lose control.

But even as you lie, head against my chest,
The hunger subsides; I inhale, as if I could actually breathe,
And hold you close, promising in a whisper:
"My Bella, I'll never hurt thee."