Roleplay City
Administration => Infusco Archives => Archives => Old Roleplays => Topic started by: The Cedar Witch on December 23, 2008, 02:48:11 AM
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Reserved for Saiketsu
continued from here (http://www.roleplaycity.com/forums/showthread.php?p=67980)
"I don\'t think I have to tell you to hang on," Sonya turned back to him, flashing one of her seductive smiles before turning her attention to the beast beneath her. No helmets, of course, she hadn\'t even thought to bring her extra one with her considering she really had intended on riding alone. The immortal kicked the engine to life and it reacted with a terrifying roar, that purring that she had grown so fond of, before quieting down to something that sounded more like the roll of thunder. Guiding the bike tenderly onto the road, the woman glanced at Nikolai one last time through the side mirror before taking off and leaving Quamar far behind.
There wasn\'t anything else in the world on her mind right now, no, not even James. Even though the situation was so stunningly similar to that night the ancient picked the human up from the park, it was as if it had never happened. All the mattered was the vibration of the engine between her legs and the man\'s grip on her hips. Not to mention the very enticing feeling of a certain something pressing into the lower parts of her back. Subtly she leaned into him, faking it off like she was adjusting her position on the bike. Kitten or Nikolai, Sonya didn\'t know who she wanted to spend the night with more.
It was a clear night, no moon. Cold, if the immortal could have noticed such a thing. Coaxing a dangerous speed from Kitten was easy enough, her bike never put up a fight when pushed to accelerate, even if they were still in the city. There wasn\'t a cop in the world that could catch her. Besides, there wasn\'t any pressing need to go anywhere near the speed limit, considering it wasn\'t James who was riding bitch this time. Not that she was thinking about him at all right now. She took the long way through the city, her hair flying back in the wind and undoubtedly teasing the face of her companion. But the ancient was growing bored of weaving between angry taxi-drivers and gunned the engine toward the ocean.
The straight-aways lent to so much more freedom and fewer cars then the congested city. Sonya pushed the metal horse to move faster, receiving no less then an energetic response. The trees on either side were a blur, unrecognizable in the blackness of the night. They flew over the top of a hill, coming down hard and fast. This provoked a mild concern from the woman, but Kitten could handle the landing. It seemed like a much shorter period of time then it actually was before the immortal slowed her hellish speed and turned onto the dirt road.
There wasn\'t a sound that could be heard over the roar of the Harley\'s engine. Even though she had decelerated, Sonya pushed the engine at a speed that mortals would still be uncomfortable with, speeds enough to throw up gravel behind them. The dense trees around them seemed to absorb the sound, as if there was something abnormal with the place. But it wasn\'t anything that she wasn\'t used to. And despite the strong scent of the exhaust, the cool breeze of the ocean still tasted just as sweet.
Soon enough, the familiar wrought-iron gate came into view, open and welcoming. The butler had heard her coming, no doubt. The woman swung into the driveway, considerably slower now so not as to disturb the flower beds with an unwelcoming shower of rocks. The mansion loomed overhead, a sight that wasn\'t ever threatening to her. The flagstone pathway caused the bike to jump where there were spaces in between, but that wasn\'t anything that Sonya could control.
The bike came to a stop in front of the steps, sighing in disappointment as the engine was switched off. Politely, the woman waited for Nickolai to dismount before swinging her own leg over one side of the bike, taking care to avoid the crackling exhaust pipes. Even though she was old, burns were still rather unpleasant for her to experience. She ran her fingers through her wild hair in a habitual attempt to tame it, but her long dark locks would have nothing of it. In a few short steps she was at the door, not bothering to look back at her company before opening her door and stepping inside.
"Have you fed?" she asked dully, feeling it necessary to play the part as gracious hostess and offer some of her stash even if it was chilled. It was in the foyer that she finally turned gracefully to face him under the watchful gaze of her late husband\'s portrait. He had seen many a man walk through the threshold of Sonya\'s home and never said a word.
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"I have, thank you." A pleasant smile, one that wasn\'t entirely fake.
The night was looking up for Nikolai, or so it appeared. He had met an enchanting young ancient, one who rode the streets of the city harder than any man he had ever known, on a beast that most men would fear. But not Nikolai. And now he stood under the enormous portrait of a commanding face which Nikolai could only assume was Sonya\'s father or Sire. And Sonya had chosen him for her night\'s entertainment. Yes, things were certainly looking up for him.
He had loved the ride here; the bike went almost as fast as Camille did, but of course it was much more enjoyable being woven into a tangled web of honeysuckle that was the lady\'s hair. And the way her body turned into each curve, the way her back pressed against him, the coy suggestive manner of her actions made Nikolai\'s manhood ache for her more than any other woman had done before. This one was special, of that he would be sure. There would be no thoughts of Jean-Luc while he remained in the presense of this charming creature. The lady demanded more respect than that.
It was all about the game. If he handled his cards right, some magic would happen. After all, she had taken him back to her house, hadn\'t she? That was step one, getting here. Now he was becoming overwhelmed with the need to seduce her, to give her what she seemed to want from him this night. But one wrong move and she would have his head. The black widow spider. Nikolai lived for the thrill.
As the woman stood before him, that same elegant scent flooded him again, stirring things he would have rathered remianed stationary. The leeches pawed at his eyes, waiting for anything to happen, but the vampire was becoming ever better at controlling them in this natural state. After all, it had been somewhere in the viscinity of two weeks since his encounter with Adam. And just for one night Nikolai wished that the Zalmric would give him a break from the hawk-watching.
"So what about those paintings you spoke of? Is it too bold of me to ask to view your works? You captured my attention back at the gallery with your oil painting." Of course Nikolai knew how to be polite. He could absolutely be a nice person, one who cared and used \'please\' and \'thank you\' when receiving anything at all. But it was a charade, too bothersome to keep up for too long. His manners were a developed skill not meant for the idiot-minded or the lower classes, but for a woman of upper class and older intelligence, Sonya.
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Sonya traced his body with her eyes for a moment while he spoke, though she heard every word that he said. He didn\'t have a bad body and he did dress rather nice, not that she didn\'t notice it before, but it looked different in the light of her own home. Slowly her eyes returned to his, retaining every ounce of power that they always had. She slipped her hands into her back pockets again, a casual and relaxed stance.
"My paintings?" her lush lips barely parted as she softly echoed his request. Silently, the ancient was thankful that she had taken the majority of her work into the side room and out of her studio when she was choosing which to sell to the gallery. No man had ever been into her room and no matter how wonderful and gracious Nikolai was, no man would ever enter her room and studio space. That much was certain. Besides, there was always the spare bedroom. Or the couch.
"My late husband," Gracefully she gestured to the two hanging in the foyer space, first calling attention to the enormous portrait of her late husband, glaring forever down on whomever walked through the door. "And my homeland," Sonya moved the attention to the landscape of the mountains. Both paintings were wrought long ago when she still lived in Europe, the age was evident in the fading color of the paint. They were aging gracefully, however, the weathered look only serving to accentuate their beauty.
"My more recent work is in another room," the immortal offered, taking a sideways step to the left toward where the private sitting room was. "If you\'ll follow me," She glanced at the younger one before turning and leading the way into the other room. The normally neat, vanilla-carpeted room was cluttered with canvases of various sizes, the largest reaching the height of the lady\'s shoulder. There were some abstract, some landscape, surreal, conceptual, and still life. The woman dabbled in all styles throughout her life. It was a collection of whatever work she was willing to part with, and although it wasn\'t her best work, there was still well refined skill behind it.
"Feel free to look around," the immortal breathed, eyes locked on his face and awaiting any sort of reaction. It was rare that she took anyone into her home to show off her work. Most never saw more then those that hung at the front door.
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Husband. The thought confused him. It had never dawned on the younger vampire that there may have been a point in this creature\'s life when she was owned by another. Nikolai could tell that it was probably centuries ago by the style of clothing and hair. Husband. He never liked the sound of the word.
The landscape he ganced quickly at, admiring for several seconds before turning his attention to follow Sonya into the spacious sitting room. An entire wall and a half was packed with paintings of a great variety, but of course the abstracts caught him and reeled him in easiest.
Thick, bold lines of shades. Hues of red and purples were everywhere, spatterings of blacks of several different shades. This was it, that passion that he had witnessed in Qamar. Nikolai let his fingers run as gently as he could over the face of the canvases, feeling the strokes as much as possible, hoping that the lady wouldn\'t take offense. He was simply blown away.
He could feel the rage and power under his fingertips, the pain of insanity. He could recognize it easily, even if it did come in a dose more condensed than Nikolai had ever experienced before. He saw it all, plain as night. Her pain, though he had no idea what it was, was so evident that the younger even felt a swelling in his chest at the thought of the woman painting. It was stunningly beautiful.
Nikolai hadn\'t even noticed how enrapt he was until he felt her shift ever so slightly behind him. It startled him and made his turn to face her, his admiration lingering on his otherwise expressionless face. And he simply stood there, trying to understand her, failing terribly. She was an enigma, and anyone who looked upon any of her abstract, conceptual, surreal piece would see that. It only made Nikolai\'s interest in her deepen.
Too many nights had had spent with the weak, diminutive species of woman, who thought of nothing else but the money available for spending and the cocks available for fucking. Nikolai had forgotten that in those certain rare cases, women could actually be beautifully crafted in mind as well as body. And it was refreshing to be with Sonya for the remembrance.
"These are stunning," was the only thing he could say. He couldn\'t muster up even a feined smile, and kept his eyes on either the painting between his fingers or the woman gazing at him with that air of queen-like pride. He was in her queendom for the night.
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Had Nikolai been anything other then an artist himself, the woman would have been extremely offended that he had dared touch her artwork. While it did make her mildly nervous to see hands touching her passion that had not painted it to begin with, she was still and did not protest. Besides, these were not her jewels. It was incredibly flattering that he had such an intense reaction to her work, and it was like no other appreciation that she had received before. And if she was being any less cautious, she would have let her guard down for a moment.
"Thank you, but these aren\'t my best," she glanced at the painting he seemed so entranced in, recalling with stunning clarity exactly when she painted it and exactly how she was feeling. That was after her first fledged had left her, one whom she was rather fond of and had high hopes for. But all good things seem to end and bring fourth enough inspiration to tare apart a canvas or two, regardless of price.
"My real work is in my studio, but I\'m sure you\'ll understand if I say that it is off limits." a coy smile. That entire room was off limits, but there were other beds to lay in, when and if the night progressed to such. The Ukrainian took a step toward him, as if to look closer at her own work, when really it was just a move to get nearer to him to perhaps trigger some sort of a reaction on his part. She stood off to his left shoulder, glancing at what he was looking at from behind him. The woman inhaled quietly, taking in his musky and enticing scent.
"That was painted some time in the sixteen hundreds," the woman explained softly into his ear. Her eyes held a quiet intensity as she recalled that night. The canvas she stretched by hand, sanded down, primed, sanded again, and primed a second time. Such a careful procedure only to be mutilated furiously by the wrath of her paint brushes. She couldn\'t even remember the name of her first fledgling anymore. It didn\'t matter, especially not now. Not when she had such a delightful catch in her web.
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The younger paused with his eyes on the painting as she stepped closer. He feined concentration as he watched her through the corner of his eye, that scent reeling him into her every wish. Black widow spider. No vampire ever had to take a step closer to get a better view of anything so large; Nikolai knew just as well as she did that everything she saw was no closer a foot backwards than where she stood now. She was pressing herself to him in a manner of speaking.
Something hissed with pleasure in the back of his mind, and Nikolai had to battle with himself to keep from frowning. There would be no break for the vampire, only a night of battling for control of his own mind. If Sonya weren\'t so close he may have sighed.
Instead, he tried to wrap his mind around the thought of this beautiful creature in the sixteenth century, alone in a room with paint smothering a large velvet dress which probably cost more back then than it would today. Golden lace hems holding in a bursting, cold bosom, black hair flowing and the intensity of an angered queen in her glassy eyes. The sixteenth century. She was ancient.
Nikolai had witnessed the first World War when he was a child. A human child. This woman had probably witnessed the Crusades to Jerusalem when she was a fledgling. He was claimed in the 1940\'s, right before the second World War at twenty-five. She couldn\'t have been older than twenty-three when she was claimed, if that. How many years ago? How old was she? It was a tempting question to ask, but Nikolai knew better than to ask a woman her age, especially an older one. "Of course," was all he said.
He had never met a vampire over five hundred. First Jean-Luc, then his Sire at nine hundred and forty-something years. The younger vampire could never imagine living that long. And yet Sonya felt even older still. Older than Damien. And she was interested in Nikolai for the evening. This time, he did smirk.
"What\'s this one called?" he turned to her, speaking softly and inching himself discreetly in her direction. He didn\'t expect her not to notice. "If you don\'t mind me asking." Nikolai couldn\'t have cared less what the painting was called. He might not even remember it after this one night. The younger was simply more intested in eliminating the distance between himself and Sonya, figuratively and litterally.
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Effortlessly the ancient kept eye contact, hardly moving or breathing. The subtle movement on his part did not go unnoticed, but Sonya made no sign of it on the outside. It was almost as if this game had turned into a test of self control, which surely was no effort on her part. The woman\'s lack of patience was the only factor that could lend to her giving in. The fact that they were still speaking of her painting almost slipped her mind, but she did not rush to fill the silence.
"контроль." her tongue moved flawlessly over the language, and she didn\'t bother to translate. There was something in the Ukrainian\'s eye that seemed to dare him to move closer, to do something risky, something more then just talk about her work. It may have been a test, or a plea. Regardless, she was curious to see just how much grace he could exhibit, how much \'контроль\' he had. Such a pretty little fly, stepping so carefully in the web. The woman smiled softly, drinking in the attention and admiration like blood.
"If you\'re done looking through these," she began in a soft whisper, taking another step forward toward Nikolai and nearly closing the distance between the two of them. The immortal pressed a single finger to his chest and traced a soft line down. "I could give you a tour of the house, if you\'re interested." Not her most creative, but things were moving slow and the ride here had only drawn out her desire. Maybe he could take her mind off of James for the night.
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That was it. Something purred inside of him as his eyes followed her finger down his chest not bothering to hide his glance at her flawlwss chest. A trail of heat lit under her finger and he found himself wanting her more than he would have openly admitted to anyone.
A snicker of course, followed by an immediate image of Jean-Luc\'s sweet face. For a moment his jaw tightened behind smiling lips and his eyes flickered away. Just long enough for the Frenchman to fade, leaving a sour taste in Nikolai\'s mind. The leeches fed from his gathering hatred towards the creature named Adam, swelling darkly in the back of his mind and sucking on the gathering arousel that this dame was offering. But why would he ever show this woman? The crooked smile returned to its full glory.
"Sorry," he said, gazing down at the distance between them as he closed it completely. Her breasts, so full and pale were touching his chest faintly. He loved tits, dead or alive. When his eyes landed back on her\'s, there was no mistaking what he was saying. "I\'m not interested." As he leaned in, he came off rougher than he meant to. His lips found hers deeply, dropping much of the pretense of the moment passed.
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Something flickered across Nikolai\'s face for a second, something that deeply interested the woman. But before a question could form on her lips, they were buried beneath his. And for a moment she humored him, slipping her slender, bare arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer to her tightly clad body. Short lived passion, enough bait for now. Without hesitating the Ukrainian pulled away, breaking the contact without meeting any resistance to speak of.
"That\'s a shame," velvet flowed from her vocal chords and renewed fire leapt into her eyes again, meeting his in a challenge. Slowly she moved away from him, well aware that she was being watched. "I was looking forward to showing you my room," it came out as a quiet and disappointed sigh as she turned toward the kitchen and slowly sauntered off in that general direction. Expecting the younger one to follow, of course. With a pace so practiced and posture so mastered, she nearly floated into the kitchen.
There was a soft clinking sound as Sonya removed a dark bottle from the refrigerator and a single crystal glass. Soundlessly, something that resembled thick, chilled wine filled the empty glass, and it was only when the dark stain hung on her lips that she did look back to see if the fly had followed. After all, there was still a flight of stairs to be climbed.
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Had she been any closer to him in age, Nikolai would have reacted angrily when she pulled away. Had she been human, he may have purposely injured her, made her cry until she begged for him to consider keeping her alive. If she were any less enchanting he would have drained her on her own vanill-colored floor. And if she were any less intriguing, he would have fucked her and left, whether she liked it or not...
As soon as she had rounded a corner, he grasped onto his forehead, as if trying to stop the consuming blackness from taking over his mind. His jaw ached from the tightness and he heard that same laughter deep inside. No truce. Adam wanted to see exactly what Nikolai was going to do. God, what a fucking prick. The thought was loud and clear, another battle for control. Jean-Luc\'s face. A flicker.
It all happened fast and once the man was soothed by his own foolish desires of torturing our hero in the play, Nikolai composed himself, walking the distance slowly. He was there when she turned back around. Her lips were tainted and the scent of blood filled the air. His green eyes gazed at her, a strength behind them to mask the utter chaos beginning to swell in his mind.
The scent of blood fit the woman nicely. Too nicely. Even the though his Thirst was sedated nicely, his mouth watered and his jaws, along with several other muscles of his body, ached to be close to her again. What a tease. A cracked smile, maintaining politeness with all due respect. His lips tingled as much as his abdomen did and he could hear the snickering all over again.
He eyed her coyly, mouthing the word "Bullshit". He was calling her bluff easily, perhaps with one of his own. There was no possible way he could have known it was one way or the other, no hints given or cues dropped. Just pure chance.
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"What was that?" The woman inquired, taking another delicate sip before placing the glass onto the counter top with a soft, musical clink. Ever-so-slowly she licked her lips with the tip of her tongue, savoring the sweet metallic taste even if it wasn\'t as fresh as she would have preferred. And in the back of her mind Sonya wondered if perhaps this one wouldn\'t put up too much of a fight to a small taste. When was the last time she had tasted aged, dead blood? None of them were quite as interesting as Nikolai.
Fluidly she moved toward him, eyes never blinking and never moving from his. When she came to a stop she was mere centimeters from him, breathing softly and barely grazing his chest with her breasts. Her gaze flickered to his lips and she barely opened her mouth to speak, "Did you say something?" her voice was liquid seduction yet she exhibited perfect control of herself, denying him any sort of bodily contact. Very slowly the immortal leaned in, moving her lips so close to his that they barely touched. But the very second she was close, she pulled away, smiling and walking now toward the stairs that were beyond the kitchen.
Nikolai would have been a fool not to follow her. She took each step at a human pace, purposefully forcing herself not to appear so eager to bed him as she really was. The woman glanced back when she was at the top of the stair, making sure he did not get lost in the trip. She floated past the first and second closed doors, one of them the room that James had been in. No need to have any unnecessary thoughts. Her trip took the Ukrainian across the balcony-esque hallway where the door on the right opened before her. Red colored walls looked out from the room.
Here the woman stopped and turned toward him, "Are you sure you don\'t want a tour?" she gave him another one of those smiles, secretly eager to see what move Nikolai would make in this game. Hopefully nothing to spoil what ancient had in mind. He had been so polite so far, so perfect, she was nearly expecting something to wreak it.
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Every single blasted move she made moved him and she knew it. While there was no sense in hiding it anymore, Nikolai wasn\'t fond of being led around. Certainly he enjoyed the workings of her tongue, the lack of heat radiating from her body and the breasts barely skimming his chest, the gentle glide of her body as she moved past, that smell which turned the inner workings of his dick... But to be controlled by them, by her.... It wasn\'t pleasurable in the least.
But her age demanded respect, even if it wasn\'t his natural manner. "I said \'bullshit\'." The vampire smiled as she twisted up the stairs. There was no reluctance in his stride as he followed her, the leeches resting and waiting for the time being; a calm before the storm. His eyes remained as steady as his hard-on as he climbed up after the woman, quietly admiring the skill and craft put into the house.
As he reached the top, feeling as though he had dragged his feet the entire way, she popped her question and opened a door to a blood colored room. Nikolai couldn\'t help but smile; why even pretend anymore?
"If you are so interested in giving me a tour," Nikolai stopped in front of her, pressing his cold hardened body against hers without reluctance. His lips were only centimeters from hers, his hands resting on her hips again, asserting his dominance if only for a few moments, "than why don\'t you." It was a dare more than a question and before giving her a chance to react, he pushed her roughly against the door, his lips finding hers more gently than before. His mind raced and traced over all his possible mistakes in case the woman became angered. But he wouldn\'t let her go until she made him, not this time.
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Nothing about what Nikolai did caught her off guard in the least bit, after all she was practically begging for it, in a manner of speaking. But it wasn\'t, in any way, dull. She certainly had every intention of giving this man a tour. The fact that the woman was currently not necessarily in a place of dominance had nothing to do with it. Being pressed between the wall and his hardened body as well as his cold lips was not unwelcome. Most certainly not.
What was it, fifty years, seventy five, since she last had a cold one at her disposal? The only ones that the ancient had bothered with were her own, not anyone she picked up off of the street. Every other immortal she had encountered outside of her own bloodline were too young to be considered anything interesting. But for whatever reason, Nikolai was an exception. There was just something more complex to him that made the woman want to waste her time with him.
The Ukrainian\'s lips crushed against his with more energy then he had initially shown her. Sliding her arms around his body, she pressed him closer to her, already aching to feel every inch of his member. One of her hands moved to the back of his head, fingers intertwining themselves in his hair. The kiss became something rougher, and the ancient pushed against him, guiding him purposefully toward the ruddy colored bed.
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Black Widow Spider.
Nikolai followed her easily, pulling her with him as much as she was pushing backwards. He hardly noticed when his legs hit something hard, the other\'s mouth moving too viciously to keep control of his senses, his respect factor, and the leeches all at once. Her hand in his hair, he could feel himself pressed against her thigh, a pressure building that they both wanted released from, physically as well. Nikolai\'s arms pulled her waist closer as he matched her strength. The urge to grind into her was too strong to ignore and the younger pressed himself against the other immortal, his manhood perking beneath the fabric of his pants.
Until she pushed him backwards onto the bed. He felt his descent slowly, felt the plush fabric catch him, felt the leeches rush, his eyes widened to view the night and the creature who placed her lithe body on top of his. Clawed hands ached to unwrap his present as he lay there with the alluring queen\'s cold core pressed near his member. Only a few more layers.
Hands continued to grope onto the small of her back, finding the string with enough skill. Nikolai toyed with it while she put her weight on top of him, pulling one string slowly. Then the other, a cross-hatch. Another. And another.
Yessss. It was in unison, Nikolai and Adam.
Black Widow Spider.
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This was her throne. And while his attention lay in unlacing the delicate garment, she moved to unbutton his pin-striped shirt between frantic kisses. Sonya did not take her time, making quick to toss the over-shirt to the floor as he managed to unlace the same garment that James had clumsily fumbled over. But before the fabric could fall from her body, the woman held it securely in place with one hand while pulling the remainder of what covered his upper body off of him with the other.
The first thing that caught the ancient\'s eye was the permanent art coloring the milky skin on his body. Still keeping herself covered, she leaned forward and traced her finger slowly around the outline of the heart tattoo, not so much admiring it, but feeling it as a delightful addition to the game. From there her finger traveled to his nipple, tracing a circle around the pierced nub before she moved to the other, taking her time and repeating the process. Delightful, and the immortal couldn\'t help but smile.
Finally the maroon corset fell to the floor, exposing her deathly pale skin in the moonlight without shame. The woman moved fluidly, leaning into him and placing a hand on either one of his arms she slowly moved them up, tracing the decorated sleeves of his arms. Her lips stopped within a hair\'s breadth of his and she made fierce, hungry eye contact before moving in to kiss him with the same fury as before. And suddenly the slow pace that she had deliberately set while exploring the skin of his abdomen quickened with the chest-to-chest contact.
The ancient could feel his desire through the layers of clothing that remained and it only served to intensify her own longing to eliminate the separation. Her mouth moved from his lips, trailing quick and desperate kisses from his jawline to the base of his throat. It wasn\'t Thirst that pulled at her, this was lust. Sliding down his body, the woman continued the trail until she reached the heart tattoo where she placed a deliberate kiss precisely where the dagger pierced through, when what she really wanted to do to his heart was not so gentle.
But Sonya did not linger, instead tracing her tongue along the same path that her finger explored, pausing at one of his nipples. Slowly she traced a circle, flicking her tongue lightly over the metal of the piercing before taking it into her mouth entirely. In the back of her mind she strained to remember if she had ever encountered another with such decoration, knowing full well that if handled properly a piercing could intensify sensual feelings. No, none that she could remember. Not men anyway. And that thought made her laugh inside.
But the pretty creature beneath her with eyeliner was most definitely a man, that fact was painfully evident with the desire pressing against the cloth barrier of her core. But instead of moving to release the prize of its cloth prison, Sonya slid back up to his lips, nipples grazing his chest on the journey there. Ferocity met his lips again, tongue prodding between them in a frantic fashion.
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He should have seen it coming, but she was good with centuries of time to perfect herself. The talented use of her hands, exposing him first while she remained covered. It made him wonder exactly how good she was with those hands. Her hands on her tits, covering herself until the very last moment... She was perfect with fingers that lit his fire as the traced his heart and caressed his nerves. And when that corset, so perfectly crafted to lift two of the woman\'s best aspects, fell from her body, Nikolai scrambled for control of himself.
The leeches pressed and Adam leaned in. Fucking prick. They pushed him to touch her, to viciously take a hold of the woman\'s body in order to force his dominance and literally gain the upper hand, something he wasn\'t in the mood for as of yet. He might lose his hands if that were the case. So he let her touch his painted flesh, a review of his work in a manner of speaking, the only work he allowed to be viewed daily, forcing his hands to grip the comforter beneath him as she tortured him with her speed.
But when she returned, he lost control completely. Her passion encouraged his hands to grapple roughly at her cold flesh hanging so palpably close. She came down on his chest with hers and Nikolai squeezed her plump flesh hard, flicking his clawed fingers over her own nipples. His abdomen began to ache with the pressure in his slacks; God, he loved tits.
As her mouth wandered lower down his body, his throat (which sent primative shivers down his flesh), and down his chest, Nikolai wanted her to keep going and silently hoped she would. Her choice in stopping wasn\'t unappreciated, just not what he had expected. She was good, knowing how to work him over with her tongue on his piercings, how to make his hips grind into hers with more force. Tension consumed his mind and the gathering darkness ate away at the pleasure, forcing the reins from Nikolai\'s hands inevitably. He felt a groan in the back of his mind develop as Sonya returned.
Before he could even worry about safety precautions, Nikolai\'s hands were pressed against the cold skin of her naked stomach, the V of her hips curving deliciously under his fingers as he worked at her buttons. Nikolai\'s eyes never left the other\'s, even as he pushed the fabric covering her body back enough to reveal her to vulnerability to the mid-thigh. His lips found her neck again and again, the tongue drifting to her cleavage line to massage the flesh so bathed in moonlight.
To say that he entered her would be incorrect. He caressed her skin, first taking the time to enjoy how free she was. He entered into the delicate, moist skin between her legs just before the opening of her core with more care than could ever be imagined by the vampire. The wetness that greeted him was certainly welcomed, though less than he expected. It would take a bit more to work her up as much as he was. The thought pushed his fingers to slide around on her delicate skin with one hand and to scratch at the marble-esque flesh of her hips with his other. The younger vampire smirked as her body reacted with more natural lubrication. She wanted it bad.
He didn\'t want to simply finger her --he would have taken a human for that-- wasn\'t particularly fond of the idea of keeping his hands where his hardened member should be. He wanted to fuck her rough, to hear her scream his name as he fucked her with all of his might, giving it his best try.
Because she was worth it.
-
Still, even after a thousand years, the immortal could not rid herself of the habit of breathing. When Nikolai\'s hands moved for the latching of her pants, her breath quickened even though there was no need in her death. The leather was peeled down to her mid thigh because she allowed it. And the fingers that sent shivers of anticipation through her body remained because she allowed it. And Sonya, being the queen of her world, kicked the remainder of what covered her natural beauty to the floor and moved her lower body away from the groping of his eager hands. Her own hands moved to the sides of his face, holding him fiercely while nipping lightly at his bottom lip. Gradually she slowed and pulled away, taking her touch with her.
The woman trailed her icy hands down his chest while she leaned back, leaning again into the stiffened object in his pants that badly needed attention. Yet she continued the journey slowly, sliding her hands down to the lock of his cloth cage. Slower still the woman unfastened a button, then pulled down the zipper, and hooking her thumbs over his waistband she pulled down what remained of the cloth cage until nothing lay between their dead flesh. Yet she still held back, refusing her own satisfaction to prolong his torture. It was all still a game for her.
With a measured pace, Sonya trailed her tongue from his lips to the base of his throat, her own jaw now aching to tear him apart. But she had more self control then that, even though every inch of his pale, naked flesh screamed out in temptation. To say he was appetizing would be a severe understatement. Her tongue moved South, tracing that same path down his chest and around his piercings, stopping to pay attention to the sensitive nubs before continuing onward. At a pace that was beginning to become excruciatingly slow even for herself, the woman moved farther, purposefully avoiding his hardened member and instead moving to the cold flesh of his hip.
While her hand traveled to what stood at attention, lightly touching it in the most torturous way possible, her lips moved tenderly, planting kiss after kiss on the indent of his hip. But the woman did not linger, moving her hand from his hardness and kisses traveling the same path in the opposite direction. By now desire was burning within her and she ached for friction despite the game. But she still avoided any direct contact (which is what he evidently craved as well), and Sonya returned to his lips, pausing midst frantic movement to deliver him a challenge through her eye contact. She wanted to see what he would dare to do, with the full knowledge of how she may or may not react. Unbenounced to him, and perhaps even to herself, there was little now that he could do to upset her. After all, she still held the power to destroy him. He had walked rather willingly into her lair, after all.
-
She was evil. She was fucking evil. Freed flesh. Wet lips purposely off target on his cold skin. Hair falling delicately onto the hardened skin. She was fucking evil incarnate.
And he loved it. Nikolai stiffled a groan in the back of his throat, his throbbing member sick of the torture this woman produced. His jaw trembled and his hands cut into the rust-red blanket they laid on. His control, his poise, his diplomacy was failing him. Darkness was taking over, greed, lust, power... He felt the fabric rip under his nails as her hand fluttered over his lever. Slipping, slipping, slipping.
Nikolai groaned against his will as she returned to her place at his hips, leaving a throbbing in the echo of her fingers. Challenging him to make that move. To fuck her.
If she only knew.
The male\'s hands released the blanket at last, sliding roughly down the flesh of her sides as Adam ached for blood and Nikolai ached for pussy. The force would have cut a mortal\'s flesh and Nikki, who was now being pushed aside by an emmerging Judas, was thankful for the hardened flesh covering her ribs. The hands found their base at the flare of her hips and the nails dug in unwillingly. He could smell the spurtings of blood and felt Adam\'s need for dominance course through his lukewarm blood. His jaw ached. His cock ached. His mind swirled. His jaw ached. His cock ached. His mind swirled. His jaw... his cock... his mind...
The sharp green eyes flashed open to take in hers, regardless of the forces pulling at him. And the vampire smiled before arching his back off the bed hard, adjusting himself to fit into the small opening his cock was meant for. Another thrust and he was in, the sweet scent of her slippery innards filling the air. He did groan this time and all thoughts were lost.
Judas had taken over.
-
The scent of blood excited her, even if it was her own, a pleasurable moan pushing past her lips to meet the stinging at her hips. Delightful, and her hands gripped his hair, forcing his head up to meet hers in a kiss. The woman was aching, with every labored breath she wanted him. She was lost in her own ferocious gaze that met his piercing green, so wrapped up in silent communication that she scarcely was prepared for his next move. With her own composure left unchecked, the ancient allowed a surprised gasp to escape her plump lips as they were finally complete.
Delightful, was more of an understanding then a clear thought. Something had changed within him, there was a dark fierceness present that had been lurking beneath his surface nearly the entire night. She could recognize it back in the gallery, and even in that look he had just given her. Something had seemed to possess him entirely. But Sonya didn\'t care if he wasn\'t the same person as he was in Qamar. She wasn\'t fucking his personality anyway.
The immortal could feel her blood trailing down her hips, pulling at her jaw. What she wouldn\'t give for sinking her fangs into his flesh. But the powerful thrusts into her excessively moist core were something fantastically more distracting. Her hips moved appropriately to match his pace, aching for everything he had to offer. The pressure within her was beginning to build, the ache for release, and her mouth strayed from his moving to his ear and nipping lightly at his earlobe. The ancient struggled to stifle the soft moans of pleasure and occasional hiss "yes". Other then that she was almost entirely quiet, as if challenging him to make her scream. To be better then the rest.
And it wasn\'t until she urged him to fuck her "Harder", that she could even allow herself to imagine some form of submission. Her body was aching to feel what he could really do, if given the chance.
-
He loved the race of vampires. With skin are tough as the marble columns of Rome and Greece, as cold as stone. Black blood rushing in a muddled pace inside of lukewarm veins. And all the while there was still a feeling, a being beneath the ice who enjoyed the feelings of any living being. Yes, it made things all that much better that she was immortal.
The force he used to slide into her, harder, harder would have injured any mortal woman, made blood the natural lubrication of his thrusts and tattered the beautiful flesh he loved so much up between a woman\'s legs. But this one, she was nowhere near mortal, now was she?
Every now and then a moan or a hiss would submerse Judas into the tendrils of blackness so rudely invading his mind, sucking up all his pleasure, propelling him into a crude state of greed for dominance and swelling pain. It made his hips thrust harder and whisper things in her ear that the vampire would have never said in the first place. It allowed the Zalmric the view through his eyes while the one locked in the cage grit his teeth. Like a softcore rape.
Pain wracked his chest, pushing him to fuck her harder. And when her command came, Judas felt the urge to obey fill him with acid lust. Without giving her time to react, the vampire pulled her down from her throne and sat on top of it himself, the voices and tendrils forcing a growl of dominance from his throat. Now Judas was in control, pushing his pressurized cock harder into her pussy. He never hid his enjoyment, every thrust accompanied by an angry-sounding grunt of pleasure.
Harder, faster and higher into her. The release was coming, the first of many of the night. By the sounds of the woman\'s breaths, she was as close as he was, if not closer. No one could fake that kind of pleasure. And he kept it up, fucking her harder, rougher than he had ever fucked before. He wanted that scream, to sink his teeth into her pale flesh and draw out her orgasm from her blood. Like taking the oxygen from fire. Her moans became stronger, more desperate but still stiffled.
He wanted to hear his name torn from those beautiful lips which were once so close to his manhood. He wanted to grab a hold of that gorgeous hair splayed all on the pillow. He wanted her nails digging into his flesh as they both peaked and fell. And peaked again. And fell again. Over and over again. Judas\' breathing was ragged with release, his member spitting high into her body. He relinquished the reins unwillingly to the man in his mind, who overtook Judas without a second thought. And it was the Zalmric prick that benefitted from the elder vampire\'s pulling muscles. It was the Zalmric who got the pleasure, leaving Judas with the fatigue and black hole in his chest.
-
It was like music to her, the heavy breathing and frantic movement, hissing and moaning, half of it her own. There wasn\'t anything else in the world that the woman wanted now, save satisfaction. It was enough for her to become movable, and she scarcely noticed that her position had been usurped, the pleasure that soaked her possessed her mind entirely. Sonya\'s jaw tightened considerably and her eyes glared up into his, glimmering like a carnivore.
She fell into a steady rhythm, her hips rising anxiously to meet his, falling in time with her ragged breathing that was increasing in pace with the near of her peak. Claws dug angrily into his back and she pulled him farther into her with each thrust, body aching to feel every inch of his manhood inside of her. His blood trickled between her fingers, its scent permeating the room and increasing her own arousal. She was a whirlwind of movement, forcing his neck down to meet her mouth in a sharp kiss. There was a hiss, stifled because she was out of breath and frustrated with her own lack of concentration. She wanted blood yet could not tare her mind away from the merciless pounding of flesh against flesh.
"Fill me," she hissed venomously into his ear, fighting the urge to tare out his throat with her fangs. The only thing stopping her was the need for friction. She didn\'t want him to stop.
By now she was trembling, marking up his back with long, bloody lines while frantically trying to pull him in closer. Her own moans of pleasure echoed his until they became struggling gasps of breath. Viciously she clawed at him, as if he wasn\'t far enough inside of her for the moment she came. Her body acted on its own, clenching desperately tight to his member as it released a tide of honey deep into her. The woman shuddered, placing her lips to his neck again and again, aching to taste him.
-
The hideous, arrogant laugh that pushed itself from Judas\' throat was not his own. His hips ground to a stop and the vampire leaned down into the woman, his manhood still inside her organs as they kept pulling him out for more. Judas\' seed in her body, but someone else\'s pleasure.
Even as the vampire laughed, the giant hole in his chest spread, consuming him in a thick, suffocating mass of leeches which ate any pleasure left in his body. It left him with a tar-like residue of greed and anguish. Had Judas been in control, he would have been sick. But instead he looked down on the woman beneath him, enjoying her fractic nips at his neck. Her jaw trembled against his skin, her cool breath fast upon his throat. Judas wanted to give it to her if she so pined for it. The other made him hold, made him recognize the deep, bleeding claw marks in his back as well as the throbbing muscles entangled together. Judas\' jaw began to ache and the hole spread faster.
He needed something to fill it. A silky voice which Judas almost didn\'t recognize flowed from his mouth so close to the woman\'s ear. Her began his passionate assault of her earlobe with his tongue and teeth, pulling and pushing at it harder than he meant to. "Don\'t tell me you\'re spent yet, darling. The sun doesn\'t rise for another few hours and you\'ve no more engagements for the night..."
The hips began to move again, slowly at first, simply to withdraw from her sweet cunt. He felt the woman\'s body writhe with the drain, but he held strong for another moment or so. Just until her body began to flicker in desire for more. Judas grabbed onto both of her arms, above her head and pinned them there too roughly as he glared into those carnivorous eyes, jamming himself back into her twat. The ripple of pleasure that passed through his body was consumed immediately and somewhere, someone laughed and forced his hips harder. Judas grit his teeth.
-
"No, of--" Sonya\'s smart remark to his comment on her stamina caught in her throat and escaped in a gasp as another cycle of building began yet again. But the restraint of her hands she took as bitter disrespect, and she snarled, eyes ablaze in queen-like fury. Thrashing against him, she effortlessly freed her hands from his grasp.
"How dare you," she spat, hips still caught in that rhythmic movement. The ancient was older then him, and even if he had the upper hand, he was never for a second really in control. With one powerful hand she pulled him into her, as if dictating that she could and would guide his movement. With the other she reached for his hair, pulling his neck down into her mouth with malice-filled lust. He may have been atop of her, but she was still The Queen.
Her fangs pierced easily through the cool skin of his neck, and she was rewarded with a gush of lukewarm blood. The other hand at his back crushed his body to hers, still fighting to keep the tempo. The blood quickened her building and she writhed against him, craving more. There was such a dark bitter taste in his blood, something that didn\'t belong. But it was a type of darkness that withered in comparison to her own thousand-year-old blackness. And it was still building, building, building.
Carnivorously the immortal forced her fangs deeper, relishing in the taring of his flesh even more so then the pleasure he was giving to her. Rich and intoxicating power flowed through her and she refused to release him. Again she could feel herself clench tightly to him, pulling as her mouth pulled at his blood. The darkness of the room became more clear, each detail of his body\'s hard outline stunningly crystalline. Yet she craved for more, and there was little stopping her from taking everything. If he was human, he would have been dying in her arms long before.
She was still The Queen.
-
The pain must not have been something the man in his head was used to. Or something he didn\'t like. As soon as the pleasure from her pulling muscles and her sucking mouth had faded, the Zalmric was nowhere to be found. Judas took the brunt of the pain and pleasure, that black, gaping hole in his chest breathing in acid. Fire shot through his veins as the queen began to take his lifeblood.
No matter how much pleasure it did give, to be important to a queen-like creature, it burned like battery acid in every veins carrying blood to be drained. Images of his first death flickered before his eyes again, pushed by the pain. He no longer felt the pleasure and the darkness of the room was fading into simply darkness. Judas pushed off and away from her with all the strength he had left to find. He snarled at her while the swaying darkness came on stronger, his eyes unfocused.
"The fuck... are you doing?" He staggered between ragged breaths that did little to help him. "You\'re taking... it all away...fire..." A cold sweat had broken out over his skin as he glowered at her with unfocused eyes. Judas wanted to yell, to become enraged with her for ruining the moment of lust, but found that useless breath caught in his windpipe, just below the vocal chords.
-
Sonya hissed, her mouth ruddy with the thickness of his gore. But he had spoken truth, she didn\'t want to drain him. What would be the fun in that? Still her eyes sparkled with hunger, locked onto the torn mess of his neck that still pulled at her jaw. Instead, a slow smile spread across her face and she licked her lips clean of his blood. Delightful, she hissed with an open mouth, her eyes returning to his face with power. It seemed to her that he was no longer fit for the throne.
With inhuman speed perfected with her age, the ancient seized her rightful place atop of him with grace and dignity, breaking the connection in the process. With his hands pinned above his head, she leaned down slowly and tenderly kissed the wound.
"What, darling. Don\'t tell me you\'re spent already. The sun doesn\'t rise for another few hours." Sonya\'s voice was low and silky smooth near his ear, and she laughed gently with musical bitterness. Forcefully she crushed her lips to his, passion laced with darkness.
-
The fire that her lips may have produced had been diminished by lack of oxygen to burn within his body. The flame she tried to start only smouldered dully, an echo of pleasure which gnawed on the blackened hole.
With too much of his blood gone, unwillingly taken, the younger vampire found the elder\'s to be a bit of a blurr as she moved on top of him, in her rightful place. His eyes couldn\'t focus and his veins throbbed painfully in his body, sore from use. He needed more if the he were to fight off the darkness for a while longer.
Fucking prick, Judas growled internally as the elder pressed herself against him. She smelled of his blood. He could taste his own blood, cold and thick in her mouth. The urge to push her away was strong, but not as strong as his need for his life fluid back. His hands trembled a bit as he lay them on the woman\'s bare back. His useless breathing habits were ragged again, grasping something he needed that wasn\'t there.
He needed the blood. Take it, Judas thought, regaining his own voice in his own head as his lips lapped meekly at hers. What is she going to do? Kill you because you bit her lip? Just do it.
So the vampire gathered up his energy, and forced himself to kiss her back, dispite the smothered fire, dispite the sickening taste of his life on her lips, despite her restraints on his arms. His member stood stronger the longer she remained pinning him down, but there was only the blood that mattered now.
He was no fledgling. Judas had been in a similar situation before. Play the cards right and he\'d escape alive and with another notch on the bedpost. Judas\' lips became stronger, a push on his part, and slowly, he bit down on the woman\'s lip. It was a nip at first. Then two. Then several, until his fangs were toying with her lips and tongue. A small bite, a sweet, satisfying burst of life in his mouth. Judas couldn\'t control himself from taking a nice long suckle of the blood on her lips, toying with the idea of slowly freeing himself to caress those beautiful round tits resting on his chest.
It wasn\'t a large amount of blood, no more than a few coins\' size. It was enough to awaken his manhood and pull him back to the borderline of darkness, where he could see the woman\'s face clearly as her hair cascaded over the side of her face and landed interwoven with his own. His body craved more and the younger pulled his lips away from her mouth, trailing rough and deep kisses down her chin, up her jawline and done to the throat and collarbone. The bone beneath her skin was hard and felt too pleasant against his lips. His kisses became rougher, nips with fangs merely grazing the cold flesh. But Judas wouldn\'t dare to take a bite without feeling out her reaction first, as tempting as it was.
-
The sharp pain was like ecstasy until it hit her that he was taking her blood. But she could feel his weakness, and acknowledged the fact that the game would end if he did not have blood. And as much as she wanted this to continue, the fact that the only available blood he had was her own, made her stomach churn. But for the sake of sex, because he wasn\'t human, because he was so fucking good in bed, she let him take a small amount, patiently restraining her desire to violently lash out. After all, the hardening flesh beneath her was becoming mighty enticing.
Then everything froze. His lips were straying too far and were becoming extremely unwelcome. Taking a little from her lips was fine, but the neck was something else entirely. An angry hiss erupted from her vocal chords and she flinched away from the rough kisses.
"Watch yourself," her voice was husky and she tightened her grip on his wrists. The woman didn\'t care that it wasn\'t a fair trade; to take his blood without offering some of her own in exchange. He was here to serve her, not the other way around. But she did not dwell on the mistake, instead choosing to roughly place her mouth over his again, nipping occasionally at his bottom lip. The immortal freed his hand to grip his hair, kissing more passionate fury.
-
If she had a heartbeat, her throat would have had his marks in it already, just as her skin held the scent of his flesh. The fact that she didn\'t made it easier to leave as she pulled him roughly away. Anger flared in his chest, burning the edges of that sinkhole. She was trying to control him again and the mere thought made Judas stifle a growl in the back of his throat.
She had wanted it badly enough to demand force from him via her word \'harder\' not twenty minutes ago. And he had given it, hadn\'t he? Hadn\'t they climaxed together and given her exactly what she wanted? Filled her with his cum just like she wanted? And when he tried to fuck her again, regardless of who, she had gotten angry and taken advantage of his obedience. What the fuck did this girl want? She was lucky that the vampire had even chosen her to fuck for the night. He could have easily refused her in Qamar. It wasn\'t as if he were fucking her paintings anyway, and that was what drew him in first.
Fuck her and be done with it. Judas kissed the woman forcefully, his freed hand sliding down her back with a forced pleasure. Nikolai found her hole again and began his routine. In and out. In and out. The same force, the same feelings. Taken completely differently. Angrily.
Pressure built and released. Her cunt grabbed it and ate it. His breath was ragged as he spit out what he could. He was beginning to hate the bitch. Another climb and descent. And another. But the longer he stayed glued to her innards by the need for friction, the more his mouth began to run wild.
All of a sudden she was amazing. Beautiful. Wonderful. The best fuck he had ever had. His one true love...
-
The sheets were a mess and she needed to buy a new bedspread. But money was only money, something that the woman had plenty of. The scent of sex hung heavily in the air, and however much time passed didn\'t matter. The damp sheets hung loosely over her body, barely covering the lower part of her while leaving nearly all of the front of her bare. She turned over to face him, cold body slick with sex, and laughed.
"Ah, god, you\'re fantastic," the woman\'s eyes sparkled and she moved to trace his tattoo with her fingertip again. The sunrise was creeping up on them slowly, and she really didn\'t want him to get caught out in the harmful rays. Not that she was rushing him out just yet, she simply wasn\'t planning on starting another round. Not tonight anyway.
"I do believe," the immortal began softly, finger still preoccupied with mapping out his chest, "that I haven\'t fucked anyone this good in quite some time," there was a pleasant smile on her face as she was wrapped in thoughts of sex. The only thing that would have made it perfect was if he had been warm blooded. Then again, she might had to have killed him at the end of it all.
-
A cold smile rose to his face. Judas, who still burned hot with irritation inside of the vampire\'s mind, thought something messy and indistinguishable. He was getting sick of the wench. Thirst pulled in his throat and he could barely open his mouth without the lukewarm scent of necrophilia filling his senses, pushing him into a chaotic desire for her icy, adreniline-filled blood. He enjoyed the sight of her breasts, the wetness he had left her between her thighs and the icy finger that was tracing his tattoos, but that was it.
Otherwise, she was dead to him.
With one hand behind his head, he grasped onto her hand and held it to his chest, her fingers resting gently on his piercing. Elegant fingers he would have loved to see wrapped somewhere else. Retrospect, Judas grumbled in the background. The younger vampire smiled at \'the queen\'. His statements, well most of them, had already been groaned as she descended only moments ago. Let\'s go.
"It\'s getting early, my dear." Judas whispered, a smirk on his face as he leaned closer to the woman. Something stirred suddenly in the back of his mind, but the young one decided to ignore it. For now. But as Judas leaned in and connected his lips with her, a sudden and violent image of Jean-Luc pressed into his mind. Just as he whispered, "I think I might\'ve fallen in love with you, my dear."
The younger vampire froze with shock. Somewhere, Adam laughed as he kept taunting him with fotage of the French vampire so close. Judas fumed as his eyes opened and saw the elder vampire there instead.
-
Sonya\'s eyes darkened and she pulled her hand away from him, yet she laughed with forced humor as she shifted toward the ceiling. "You don\'t love me," she replied coldly, "You hardly know who I am." Her eyes missed his as her mind began to darkly churn on it\'s own. And the ancient laughed again, as if enjoying some inward joke.
"Please," she whispered sarcastically, trying in vain to shrug off the comment. The very notion of love had always frustrated her. But should it now? It was a foolish thing spoken after a one-night-stand. It didn\'t matter. Yet somewhere in the back of her mind, something whispered that it should. There was the sticky feeling of loneliness building, and she avoided looking at him for the sake of preserving the anonymity of the moment they had just shared.
Meaningless sex was something routine to her. Wasn\'t it?
-
Judas turned towards her, laying on his side and allowing his hand to rest on her damp stomach that sloped so deliciously towards her best aspects. Fire raged in him only for the wonderful sex she had just supplied for him. And only for the sex. Otherwise she was intollerable.
A woman in control of a man. No wonder she had no one at her side.
"Come on, darling," His smile never faded even as the image of Jean-Luc had, pressed down into the depths of his mind once again. That guy was a prick for bringing Pierre into the picture, especially now. "What are you getting so..." his hand crept lower on her stomach, running over the smooth skin that was her female make-up, "touchy for?" He bit down on his lip as his hand grazed the still-excessively-moist-and-wonderfully-experienced flesh of her clit. It moved the fire around in his abdomen and Judas began to negotiate with himself, saying \'just one more round\'.
-
Sonya hissed angrily, in no mood for anything of the sort. She pulled away from him again, tempted to sit up but unwilling to leave the bed. The touching that would have normally made her crave \'another go\' disgusted her, and she was slowly beginning to become sick of the child. Was sex all he cared for? The thought shouldn\'t have surprised her as much as it did. After all, wasn\'t it she that had lured him in with her body? Could she possibly fool herself into thinking that he actually fucking cared about her paintings? For all she knew, he wasn\'t even an artist himself and hadn\'t the mental capacity to even begin to grasp half of the passion that she threw into everything.
"I don\'t throw the phrase around so casually," she glared icily at him from the corner of her eye before returning her gaze to the ceiling. "Besides, it\'s getting early. I\'d hate to see you in ashes all over the road." There was no offer for him to stay through the day, nor was there one for a ride to some other shelter. The woman couldn\'t care less about him.
Men were so shallow and she hated it. And no matter how many of them she fucked, Sonya was still bitterly unwilling to admit that she wanted something more then sex sometimes. But that thought had nothing to do with Nikolai. He was a child. A play thing. And she was becoming rather bored with her toy.
-
Judas scoffed at her. Lighting the match, he rose from the bed, ignoring her for a moment as he retrieved his clothes. What a bitch. "Yeah," he spat darkly, sliding on his lower layers in one motion, just as they came off. "The word \'love\' must be the only thing you don\'t throw around loosely, now isn\'t it?" He didn\'t even bother disguising his aggrivation or his viciousness, even though he knew exactly what an elder was capable.
"Hell, why not make a habit of keeping the term loose. You do so good with everything loose." And a laugh that was purely Judas\' own erupted bitterly from his throat. He was laughing at her, clearly and pointedly. Fucking cunt.
-
"What did you just say?" Her face became contorted in rage while she watched him dress for a moment, at a loss for words. How dare he! Everything inside of her screamed for a retaliation, and it did not take time for her to obey. The woman moved quicker then he could have possibly dreamed, something simple at her age and easier still with the blood in her system. Her hand was at his throat and she slammed him against the nearby wall, shaking the house.
"Watch your fucking mouth, child. Remember whose house you are in." the ancient spat, squeezing harder and threatening to break skin. It didn\'t matter to her that she was naked, she felt not a hint of vulnerability or shame as she drilled into his eyes that had lost their interesting qualities. The only thing she wanted now was to rip him to shreds.
This situation was too similar for her. It was exactly what happened with James before she claimed him. But Nikolai was already dead, and there will be no such extension of mercy on her part. No offer for life. The game had spoiled, leaving an awful taste in her mouth. Sonya could still hear James\' voice echoing inside of her mind, his accusations of her lack of a civilized nature. But what did he know? She wasn\'t a monster. She was a Queen.
And she would be obeyed.
-
The impact rattled his brain, a bright flash of white light lingering behind his eyes. It took Judas a long moment to come to, suffering through the pain lining the back of his body. His feet barely touched the floor as her grip pressed him against the wall harder than he had ever been pressed anywhere. All the pleasure he had experienced heretofor was drained from his body by the strength of the other immortal.
He hated the cunt, and not even her sex could make up for this one, no matter how good it really was. Instinctually his claws dug into the flesh of her hand in an attempt to pry it off his throat. Judas was met with infinite strength he had never known before, no matter how deep his nails dug. Panic set in as he realized that the only way he\'d be getting out of this one was to wait until she released him.
And in the meantime, his throat would burn with Thirst for the cold blood she had denied him for hours, his bare shoulders ached with the impact with the wall. He couldn\'t even fight her, knowing that at this point she\'d probably tare his head off. And Judas had a particular fondness for his head. Judas was simply grateful that he didn\'t need to breathe anymore.
The younger vampire looked down at the woman through his struggles, the sight of her naked flesh doing nothing for him anymore. She was just another woman after all, another blood-sucking demon like all women were. There was a hint of laughter in his strained voice. "You keep holding me here, I\'m gonna get stuck in your wall. And you\'re going to have to redo all your pretty decorations. Now put me down."
There would never, Never, be an apology from his mouth. Judas would find more victims to fuck and bleed. She didn\'t deserve his appologies, sympathies. She deserved nothing but a good fucking lesson to teach her her place as a woman in the world of men.
-
"You\'ll not command me," Sonya pushed her nails into his throat, eyes wide and full of loathing. His pitiful attempts to free her hand from his throat were nearly laughable, and another angry hiss erupted from her mouth. What good was he? The man would have to beg her forgiveness on her knees if she were to even consider giving him another chance. For life, that is. Not with her. Nothing he could ever do would redeem himself in her eyes. The ancient leaned closer in, even though their physical contact now disgusted her, and positioned her mouth dangerously close to where she had torn his throat before.
"How about I drain your veins dry and cement you into the wall and you can become my pretty little decoration?" The immortal pushed him farther into the wall, and the house groaned in protest. She couldn\'t care less about the damage. She had enough money to fix it and then some. After this was over, she would never set foot into this room without reason again. Not until everything had been changed.
Sonya had half the mind to throw him from the window after she took all of the fire from his veins enough to make him stumble. She wasn\'t even sure if she could keep her temper enough to allow him to simply walk from the front door. If he had been human, it would have been so much more satisfying to crush him. The darkness within her churned violently, giving her enough momentum to rip him apart if she chose to do so.
-
Judas snarled right back, disgusted at the scent of more of his blood being spilled because of this fucking twat. Her hands were stronger than steel clawing into him. The leeches returned quickly to lap up his hatred and tare that black concave in his chest apart all over again. His green eyes lingered on hers with only the slightest hint of fear inside. He had never dealt with an immortal this strong before and the idea kept the Zalmric at bay.
"Good. At least then you\'ll have another reason to remember me forever," Judas spat viciously.
-
That was it for her. That last straw for the night. Bitterly she latched onto him again, teeth sinking viciously into his throat and she didn\'t even try to sugar coat it to make it feel the least bit pleasant. The immortal crushed his body against hers, talons biting angrily into his back in a deathly embrace. When she had taken a mouthful of the ruddy liquid, she pulled away from him and spit it onto the floor. Filth, she seethed, hardly taking pleasure in the taste. It was dirt to her. Something had tainted his blood beyond the point of pleasure, tinting it black. Nothing about the way he tasted made her pine for him anymore, and the fact that she once had longed for the poison made her seethe inside.
Several times she repeated the act, the darkness twisting and writhing within her each time she took a mouthful. And finally, when the metallic nectar had adulterated the pure white carpet with its gory stain, Sonya took her last mouthful and let it seep from the corners of her mouth, drip down her chin and onto her chest. The ancient then pressed her lips roughly against his for a last, malice-filled kiss goodbye with crimson lips. She hardly let him breathe before pushing him into the wall across the room, nearly through the window.
"Let\'s hope you even live that long," her voice was sultry and she gave him one last dark look of hatred before there was an awful shattering sound. The woman didn\'t even turn back to see if he had landed on his feet. Disgusted she took his shirt in her hands and tore it apart, letting it flutter in pieces out the shattered window.
-
By the time she was finished with him, Judas\' claws had stopped grappling with the steely shoulders of the beautiful wench, his snarls had caught in his throat and his anger swelled increduously to see his own black blood so defiled by the woman\'s teeth, splattered on the white carpets. He would have hated her less if she had taken it all and swallowed.
Pitch blackness was washing over him by the time she stopped. His veins burned, his throat screamed in agony. A second death was coming, he knew it. And all he could think of was the blonde Judas wished he were with instead of just another woman. The younger vampire, fighting off the closing darkness, didn\'t even understand what the elder had said. Nor did he feel the shattering glass on his poor broken shoulders.
It wasn\'t until Nikolai hit the ground that the image of his best man faded from his mind. He felt the gravel press against his battered back as he slid ungracefully. The world spun as his body turned over with the momentum, pver and over until he finally came to an agonizing stop some distance away from the house.
The light of nighttime, as well as Pierre\'s chiselled features faded from view completely, his green eyes rolled upwards in his head. Darkness of unconscienceness overtook Nikolai as he lay battered and strew in the gravel driveway.
There was a stirring somewhere; Nikolai could feel it even in his sleep as the sun rose faster. A sharp pain woke him from his sleep of blood-loss, a tear in the black hole, that familiar feeling of liquid tar on his open wounds and broken shoulders. The vampire wanted to scream, wanted to fight against it, but his body was just too broken. Adam was there, somewhere, unwillingy keeping him alive for one more night. That sadistic bastard was in love with hurting Nikolai. His help was nothing more than a terrifically painful rape and Nikolai couldn\'t help but take it. Fire like molten rock burned in his shoulders and moved them back into proper alignment, something that blood would take hours to do. The metallic tinge in his mouth had told Nikolai that he was biting down on his tongue to stifle the roar of agony of moving and mending bones.
He had no idea how long he was laying there suffering, but after what felt like hours of brutal torture of self-preservation, Nikolai was able to climb to his feet, a mild pain lingering in the upper back. Flames licked his throat where her fangs had broken through and raped him. Rape, rape, rape. Thirst raged and the desperation of the moment set in. His green eyes glowered at Sonya\'s broken window as he put the pieces together. Nikolai ignored his tattered shirt, chosing to leave it as a douchey reminder of his time in her pussy.
Regardless of what she had done, she was nothing more than a notch on his bedpost now. A very good notch.