The It's Another World Award
Fling Wide the Whirlwind by Thrihyrne.
You're exquisite, my fiery beloved," the vampire replied in a voice that rang with passion and power. "You're strong, and gifted, with a willful temperament. You are handsome- no, beautiful. Your russet hair drew me to you. It's been several ages since I've wanted to share this gift with another."
"But I don't want it," Ron insisted, sniffling as his battered psyche threatened to slip into madness.
"Yes, more's the pity." Cool, long fingers smoothed Ron's hair back from his face. He felt soft, dry lips brush his eyelids. "But I have decided, and thus it shall be."
"I don't even know your name," Ron said, his gravelly voice cracking as shudders of fear wracked his body. This was far worse than anything he'd experienced in the War; never had he felt so helpless, and alone.
"Never you mind that." The voice was soothing in its dismissal. "Just relax, my sinfully hot-blooded one."
Ron gasped in shock when the fangs pierced his neck. Everything became sluggish and there was a roaring in his ears. Certain that he was losing his sanity as the blood was taken from him, with detached surprise Ron felt arousal in his groin, an erotic pulse thundering through him even as he grew fainter and fainter. He was dying, surely.
"Harry," Ron choked out as an encroaching black dominated his vision.
"Feed," the vampire commanded.
Ron's head lolled. He was so very thirsty, and the scent of the blood offered to him more intoxicating and luscious than anything he'd ever smelled. He steeled himself against it, against the vibrant, succulent aroma wafting up to him. Ron leaned toward the blood before his rational mind screamed at him to stop. His body was shrieking at him to drink, but in agony, he forced himself back. Better to die.
"No," Ron whimpered.
"Feed."
Pants of air burst out of Ron and his heart battered against his ribs, attempting escape.
"No."
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