My Billionaire Ex Is A Vampire

Naked Monkey Dance

“What the hell has happened here?” I hear Ben swear, entering our living room. I can barely hear him in my drunken stupor even if the outburst was loud. I feel my body is being lifted out of the sofa and Chris beside me is moaning “Leave me alone.” Carrying me up to the bed, Ben puts me down and under the duvet. My head is pounding and the soft bed is the bestest friend I could ever have.

“I’m just going to make sure Chris is okay. I’ll be back in a minute,” Ben explains in a soft voice. If it takes him a minute or ten hours I have no clue, but suddenly he is back.

“Lorena, my love?” the fracking man says to wake me up again. I only grunt in response, my mind is not allowing much more. “Please wake up. It’s only six in the afternoon and you are drunker than a Phoenician sailor. I did not plan on you drinking yourself to oblivion before even getting a proper meal,” Ben sounds worried, but I don’t care. After hanging up on Sean, Chris and I just drank pure vodka in silence, hating ourselves for what we did to the man. Now I hate myself for drinking that vodka on top of losing count on the number of wine bottles we ingested.

“Lorena, can you listen to me,” Ben brings me back to the real world. “I want to…” he starts, but before he can finish his sentence I remove myself from his arms and jump out of the bed for a full sprint to the toilet. At the finish line I start to empty my stomach. I hear Ben quickly walk in after me, and feel him lifting my hair out of the way. I know he’s too late already, but I guess it's the thought that counts.

“It is for the better,” Ben states over my heaving, and I hate him a little for it. He chuckles, “I’m sorry Lorena, but I cannot help it. When you are this drunk you are projecting your thoughts loud enough for everyone to hear.” Ugh, please don’t remind me about your voodoo, asswaffle, I think, hoping he is listening in to that too. His chuckling gives me the answer.

Then he gently pushes me to the shower where I want to slump down to the floor and sleep, but he forces me to stay up right and helps me out of my clothes. I hang on to him as he washes my nasty hair and holds it back when I once again have to empty myself in the toilet. When my ordeal is done, and I’m including the shower, he helps me into one of his shirts and slips me into our bed. His care reminds me why I love and adore this man. He has overstepped a line, but maybe we can fix it?

“Better?” he asks and I groan a no in response. “Lorena, before you got sick I wanted to ask you if you would let me do something to make you sober. I know a way, but it includes meddling with your mind. You have made it clear I’m not allowed to do so. Therefore I beg you to let me do it. Do you want the natural way to run its course or can I help you sober up?” as he pleads he lovingly plays with my hair. It hurts on account of my headache.

“I will help with your pain too.” I can hear his smug smile and contemplate saying no from that only, but getting free from this pain sounds glorious right now. I want to ask how and what, but my tongue cannot comprehend my words. Like an animal I can only groan.

“I’ll explain as I go along and you can stop me at any minute. Okay?” he asks. Sighing heavily I agree to his meddling.

“First I will make sure you cannot be further drunk by turning the alcohol left in your stomach to other molecules, like sugar. You will feel some heat from this process,” he warns and only seconds later sweat tries to escape my skin and I need to kick the duvet off me. Some heat? It’s like I’m twice my age and I’ve entered menopause. My skin feels flushed and I’m ready to melt. When the heat emanating from my insides calms down to a livable temperature Ben speaks again.

“That was more alcohol than I anticipated. You really drank a lot today,” he sounds strained, like this is taking its toll on him too. “Second thing I will do is start with that headache. This will be some of the mind meddling I talked about. The headache will still be there, but I will detach your pain sensors for the time being. This effect will not last and the amount you drank might result in a mild discomfort a few days from now if we do not continue the process after removing your pain,” he explains while I feel my headache lift itself from me, making me feel light as a feather. It’s such a relief. I’m still tired and drunk, but I cannot feel any pain, only dizziness. I sigh in bliss and smile gratefully for the first time since I don’t know when.

“Before I do the third and last action I will ask you again if you are okay with this,” Ben begins. “The side effects of this are,” he stops himself. “I did not offer this to your friend because the effects are euphoric and…” he clears his throat. “We most likely will end up doing the… What did you call it the other day? The naked monkey dance.”

I start laughing. It’s so out of character for Ben and it’s hilarious! One thing is the word choice does not fit him, but also, he’s normally not that shy about seggs so his inability to use the word surprises me. From the way he speaks about his past he must be ancient and I know for a fact he’s not without seggual experience at all! So why does he behave like a 16 year old virgin?

“Because this will be the first time I make love to a woman that knows about me not being human and is not afraid or in awe of me,” he answers my thoughts. “It’s special and not something I take lightly. I don’t take you lightly.” His words make my heart soar high like I’ve drunk a Red Ox energy drink. I open my eyes to meet his chocolate gaze. I lift my hand to his face to caress him and his close-trimmed beard that follows his jawline, enhancing his handsome looks.

“But why then did you call it naked monkey dance?” I ask with a serious voice, but my smile reveals my laughter and this time he joins in. His merry tears sprout out as he kisses me.

“I have no idea where those words came from!” he laughs. “Maybe your drunken mind is affecting me?” We laugh together and he joins me in the bed and holds me in his arms. It feels safe, like it did only a few days ago.

“I can't believe I’ve never met a woman like you before. Where have you been all my long and endless life?” he asks more to himself than to me, but it makes me look more closely at him. I want to ask him how old he is, but before I get that far he kisses me again. My heart flutters and when I moan he deepens the kiss. Heat from our kissing warms my body from finger tip to finger tip, from head to toes before it pools between my legs.

“I ask again my sweet Lorena, will you allow me to do the last step?” he asks with smoldering eyes. I’m already feeling ready for him to fvck me, my core is wet and aching for him. Since my body is desperate for him, I might as well let him do his mind 0rgasm thing on me.

“Yes, Ben. Make me sober again,” I answer between kisses, lifting my hips slightly for him.

“Thank you, my love,” he whispers. “For this I need a few tools first. I also need to tie you up.” He kisses my forehead when he sees my skeptical face. Tying me up can be seggsy as hell, but right now I’m at a disadvantage when it comes to the trust part in our relationship.

“It’s for both our protection. I cannot be disturbed while performing this ritual and you are going to be a handful when the euphoria sets in,” he explains.