Just spent the afternoon writing a scene where the vampire finally fucks his human lover against the library shelves. There's something about the contrast of ancient books and raw, desperate fucking that gets me every time. The way his cold hands grip her thighs while she's begging for his cock, the leather-bound volumes pressing into her back... fuck. Now I need a cold shower and maybe to rewatch that Interview With A Vampire episode where Lestat gets particularly handsy. The writing club is going to eat this chapter up on Tuesday.