As the haze of sensation began to recede, a sense of awareness, tinged with a residual tremor, returned to Myra. Her eyelids fluttered open, her emerald eyes blinking slowly as she refocused on the dimly lit surroundings. A lingering warmth spread through her body, an odd counterpoint to the slight dizziness that still persisted. Her hand instinctively rose to her neck, her fingers tracing the delicate puncture marks left by Freya's fangs.
A blush crept up her neck and across her cheeks as the memory of the strange pleasure that had accompanied the feeding resurfaced. The involuntary moans, the loss of control – it was an unexpectedly intimate and somewhat embarrassing experience. With a renewed sense of purpose, she sat up straighter in the armchair, her gaze shifting towards her discarded coat.
As she reached for the garment, a question formed on her lips, a hesitant inquiry born from the lingering confusion and the now less-charged atmosphere. "Mistress Freya," she began, her voice a little shaky, "was it… necessary for me to remove my coat? If you were only going to… bite my neck?"
The question hung in the air, innocent yet subtly probing. Myra's brow furrowed slightly as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the oversized coat, pulling it around herself like a shield. The act of redressing felt like a return to a semblance of normalcy, a reclaiming of her personal boundaries after the intense and somewhat disorienting experience.
Her question was not accusatory, but rather a genuine attempt to understand the protocols of this unusual exchange. Had it been a ritual, a prerequisite she hadn't been aware of? Or was there another reason behind the request? The memory of Freya's intense gaze as she had undressed flickered in her mind, adding a layer of uncertainty to the encounter.
As she fastened the buttons of her coat, her eyes met Freya's once more, seeking an answer to her simple yet significant question. The experience had been profound, unsettling, and not entirely what she had anticipated. Understanding the reasoning behind Freya's actions, even the seemingly minor ones, was crucial for her understanding of what this unusual arrangement would entail.
Freya's gaze, still clouded with a mixture of arousal and bewilderment, flickered down to Myra as the girl began to redress. The question, so straightforward and laced with a hint of innocent curiosity, seemed to cut through the lingering fog in her mind. The simple practicality of it stood in stark contrast to the complex and unexpected emotions Myra's blood had stirred within her.
A moment of awkward silence hung in the air as Freya processed the question. The truth was, there hadn't been a practical necessity for Myra to remove her coat entirely for a neck bite. It was an unconscious act on Freya's part, driven by the primal anticipation of the feeding, a stripping away of barriers, both literal and figurative. It was the prelude to intimacy in its most basic, predatory form.
A faint flush, a sensation she hadn't experienced since her own mortal days, touched Freya's cheeks. She averted her gaze for a fleeting moment, a rare display of discomposure. "No," she admitted, her voice a low murmur, the resonant quality still present but now tinged with a hint of something akin to embarrassment. "No, it wasn't strictly…necessary."
She met Myra's questioning gaze again, her crimson eyes now holding a flicker of something akin to vulnerability. "It was… instinct, I suppose. A stripping away… a preparation." She hesitated, searching for the right words to explain an impulse she hadn't fully understood herself until this moment. "It is a vulnerable act, the taking of blood. The exposure… it felt… appropriate."
The explanation sounded flimsy even to her own ears. The truth was far more complicated, intertwined with the unexpected arousal and the primal urge to possess, even in this consensual act. She had wanted to see Myra, to have her completely exposed, a visual confirmation of the offering. The removal of the coat had been a symbolic gesture, a subconscious claiming.
"Forgive me if it made you uncomfortable," Freya added, the words carrying a genuine note of apology. It was unusual for her to consider the comfort of her prey, even a willing one, but the experience with Myra had already begun to chip away at her ingrained patterns of behavior. The encounter was proving to be far more complex and unsettling than she could have ever anticipated.
Myra's fingers tightened slightly on the lapels of her coat, a subtle frown creasing her brow. Freya's explanation, while seemingly honest, did little to truly settle the unease stirring within her. Instinct? Preparation? Her mind replayed the moment Freya's intense gaze had locked onto her as she'd hesitantly shrugged off the coat. There had been a palpable anticipation in the air, a silent demand that Myra, in her compliant state, had readily obeyed. But why? Had it been a subtle power play, an unspoken assertion of dominance? Or was there something more primal at play, a ritualistic element to the feeding that transcended mere sustenance?