A Darkness That Beguiles [Closed]

[tidemorgan]

Evening had descended and Livia had woken to the comfortable darkness, the mid-summer air cooled to a warmth that slid over her pale skin as she stepped out onto the cobbled stones of the main roadway. Most of the little people had gone to their beds, retreated into what they thought safe, as if their meager doors and windows would keep out those who hunted the night. Livia showed no sign of amusement or irritation at this thought as her bright green eyes combed the shuttered windows and the barred doorways. Those who trembled and ducked for cover were not worthy of her attentions. Their blood did not speak to her the way the blood of a more bolder prey called out.

Although bold was not necessarily what she would have termed those who infested the evening hours. Whores--desperate women and pretty boys--there were plenty of, as well as a multitude of those who dallied at drink houses, filling their stomachs and clouding their heads. All of these wandered freely and loudly down lanes. But she had little interest in them, the fools...pathetic as they were--unworthy of any sort of pursuit. Livia needed someone worthy of her attentions. As of late she'd been forced to feed on plenty of disappointments, the ones who appeared bold, their weapons at their sides, their mouths full of bravado, only to find them crying as they slowly fell to her embrace--and Livia loved to take her time (why hurry when there was always eternity). As sweet as their blood tasted, it became foul at the sight of the tears, at the sound of terrified whimpers. Still, she needed to feed and to appease her appetites she found herself preying on what she would normally avoid.

Tired of settling for what she did not desire, Livia strode from the shadows, her senses tasting the air for some challenge that might actually do more entertaining than disappointing. She was garbed loosely in soft silken fabrics of pale green that drifted about her ankles, the rustle of fabric the only noise of her passing along the streets. Keeping to the center of the lane, her hands clasped in front of her, she walked with an air of confidence, her neck long and stately, the small quirk of her pink mouth a look of sweet tranquility. Livia could look soft when she needed to.

 

[Starsailor2804]

It was odd to find an Optio walking the streets of Rome alone, most particularly at night, but for Lucius Calpurnius it was a daily ritual he had adopted ever since being so honored to be drafted into the Emperor’s personal legion, the Praetorians. Maybe it was not so unusual for him because he considered these streets to be his own for they were as much of a home to him as was his family’s large estate. When he was young Lucius had always been the son who got in trouble and who often had to be tracked down by his father’s servants after having run away from the safety of the walls of the estate. These streets made him feel alive and when added with the danger of walking at night alone he felt invincible for not one had dared to bring him trouble. Surely the garb and armor of the Praetorian had kept most away, but even as Rome had descended into civil chaos he was still avoided.

Coming to a halt at a corner Lucius leaned against the wall of a home and removed his helmet, a light sweat covered his very short hair, his scalp very visible. He had always enjoyed having short hair for it was so much easier to deal with, it stayed out of his face in battle, and allowed his helmet to always remain snug on his head. Plus, he just liked it that way, never being too fond of hair, likely to due to his childhood fascination with the gods who were always perfect in all ways, including void of all body hair. Or, maybe he was just slightly deranged, which was much more likely. Anyone who loved battle and blood as much as him weren’t exactly right in the head. However, maybe it was because of his love for war or his love of the image of the gods that he also maintained a physical form that was so very similar to the statutes of the gods found all over Rome. As a youth he had been very skinny and not strong at all, constantly ridiculed, but not anymore, those who had once made fun now feared and respected.

Placing the helmet back upon his head he readjusted his breastplate as well and looked about as his attention turned and focused on two scantly clad women tried to coax him into following them into an alley. He knew much better, granted maybe they did want him for a purely erotic and hot encounter, but it was much more likely that he would be robbed and killed if he did follow them. Smiling he walked off down the road and declined their offer, walking down the streets as drunks and women ran about. What filth this city provided at night, and this city was considered the heart of the world, well at least by the Romans. The barbarians who were approaching and had been beaten back for now thought otherwise, or at least wished to cease the beating of that heart.

Turning down another street Lucius felt his heart skip a beat causing him to stumble for a moment. Looking up he saw cold eyes looking directly at him, eyes so cold that they sent a chill up his spine. But, in that pale face he saw a beauty that was surely enticing and instilled a burning passion within him. He was love struck immediately, his hands sweated, the top of his head covered with sweat already under his helmet. As he drew closer to her he looked past her and tried his best to not look directly at her, for when he didn’t it seemed he was able to function properly again. What was going on? For someone who lived in battle, war, and death it was hard to take him out of his element, but she had done so with such ease.

 

[tidemorgan]

She walked unchallenged, most catching sight of her soft face and cool eyes and deigning it wise to keep a considerable distance from the woman. The rare drunk took courage and advanced, hands sliding out to grab what they had not been asked to touch. She took charge of these easily enough, slender, graceful fingers snaking out to take hold of the offending wrist and squeezing with a display of strength that made the offenders snap back from her. At times she drew blood, sinking long nails into the flesh, a gesture that gathered her self-control as the sweet scent wafted into the evening air. "Demon," some hissed at her, but she merely smiled, inclined her chin, eyes slanting away with what could be perceived as an amused air. And then she'd walk on, unmolested.

It was the whores that did not gain her amusement, those slovenly creatures who needed to show flesh and made lewd promises to gain a man. Livia had known plenty of men, perhaps not in the fashion they desired, and never had she swayed them with a glimpse of curving breast or a lift of her toga. That these women cheapened themselves...

Livia's cool gaze scraped over the women leering out of an alleyway towards the man they called to. She'd heard him coming, the clink of armor, the heavy, confident gait of his feet adding to the whispered clamors of the evening. She assessed him even as she continued on her stroll down the avenue, green eyes making no secret of her sweep over his well-built figure. Was he just another bravado, seeking glory in the shadows?

She turned her eyes aside as he neared, a smile that by appearances seemed demure gliding over pink lips. She lifted a hand as he passed, trailing fingertips lightly over the flesh of his arm until she tightened her grip around his upper-arm, more to feel the strength of muscle than to get him to stop his passage--she could have done that with a simple word. She could sense his interest, it emanated from him like the glow of a candle flickering from its wick. She kept her grasp firm, not nearly as hard as she would to dissuade a man, but there was a hint of her strength beneath it.

Canting her cheek so that she could tilt her glance up to him, almost coquettish, she shifted as to be almost turned to him. "Praetorian," she murmured after a moment. "I've been searching for you." An odd statement, as she did not know him, but she locked green eyes on his, shadowed and nearly hidden as they were beneath his helmet. She could not see if he were handsome, but it was not a look that mattered, but a strength. She tightened her grip a little, sliding her hand up the length of his upper-arm. Did he like a woman soft or firm, submissive or in command? It did not matter either way to Livia; she had no doubt that this man would be hers regardless of her outward demeanor. "I would have thought all men knew not to keep a woman waiting."

 

[Starsailor2804]

He had not expected her touch, and had especially expected one that would be so cold and send more chills up his spine. Thankfully it was a warm evening for such cold would have sent him into uncontrollable shaking as if he had been frostbitten. But, with the hint of sweat on his arm to start it cooled him quite well and actually, it was enjoyed. The softness of her touch quickly ended though as she grasped his arm tightly. Her strength was odd for someone so willowy and appeared so weak, but Lucius could not think of that for too long as she had a hold over him different from her grip. Her choice of introduction made him question again, for how had she know he was a Praetorian, maybe it had just been an attempt at flattery had he not been.

Whatever the case it seemed that only every now and then had Lucius actually been able to think clearly and it was in those times he felt odd and in alarm, but for most of the time he was lost in the moment. As she turned him and they locked eyes Lucius was lost more than he had been before with her. Many poets had talked of being lost in a woman's eyes before, but it was never more true than it was right now. Not only did he become lost and locked on them, but it felt as if she was binding his entire soul and seeking out everything about him in a mere gaze. But, she surely could not see his eyes behind the helmet, was it his gaze that was causing this feeling over him? Oh the confusion and fear, but he did not look away for even one moment.

She had been searching for him? Fear again with her words as she gripped and slid her hand up his arm as if she was studying him, trying to find something out about him that no normal being could. Lucius thought he believed in the gods, but of course he had lived with doubts of their real existence throughout his life. However, with this woman's touch alone he was more clear than ever that something in this world was not natural, not all who walked the earth and talked like humans, were humans. His thoughts only lasted for a moment again as her words pierced him again and he was not lost for what seemed eternally. No, he could not keep her waiting his thoughts replied to her last statement.

"My apologies, I had not known where to find you," he replied, his words flowed from his mouth but in his mind he really did not know why he had chose them for he had no clue what he was saying. His voice, as well, was odd he believed. This whole thing was odd, but he had no control over himself long enough to break free from her grip and ask the questions and raise his defenses against what he had concerns over. Finally, his mind gave out and his submissive words came clear and crisp now. For now, his mind was clouded. "Well now I am with you, I hope may I make up my absence up to you," he said, a slow smile forming behind the helmet. Slowly he reached up with his other hand and removed his helmet, allowing her to look deep into his eyes and over his handsome face.

 

[tidemorgan]

He had not flinched away from her, a fact that surprised but satisfied her, emotions that did not display themselves on her mouth or in her eyes as her fingers admired the curve of his arm. Perhaps not a man that pretended at his bravery, after all...though she would not care to leap to conclusions. Not yet. He may still simply view her as a woman, nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to fear.

Resting her hand at his arm and using the grip of her fingers to draw herself closer, the curve of her body barely brushing against his, she locked eyes with him as he removed the helmet. With any other woman, he might have felt the brush of her breath, but there was none here, a fact that many often forgot as she inspected them. "Do not worry, I have ways for you to make things up for me, though I would think a demonstration of these should not take place in the eyes of others." She paused, not bothering to look towards the whores that lurked on the corner still, calling rudely to the Praetorian and the woman that had somehow managed to snag him. She allowed herself a small smile, tracing her free hand along the length of his breastplate. "Do you not agree?" She kept her voice soft, husky.

This entire length of time she had kept her eyes on his, the delicate, inviting curve of her mouth in conflict with the cool, determined stare of green. "I would ask that you come with me, if you've the heart for it." She relaxed her grip on his arm then, though she brushed fingertips along his lower-arm before letting her hand fall away. She did not gesture for him to follow as she turned from him and began back in the direction that she had come. Her steps were calm and deliberate, none of the fancy swishing of hips that many women used to snare attention; she already had his, she did not need to fight for it or worry that the simple-minded whores would steal it away. She walked with ease and dignity, head held high, back straight, elbows slightly aside from her body with her hands clasped in front of her.

Livia did not pause until she reached the end of the avenue, at which she glanced back at him. Had he chosen to follow? In someways it was a test of his bravery. He knew she was not an ordinary woman, would not be the simple catch and triumph offered by a woman of the streets. She had little doubts that he would follow, however, and she continued around a corner.

 

[Starsailor2804]

With such ease she had drawn him closer to her, but there had been no pull and he did not remember stepping or her stepping closer. It was an odd sensation, as if she had just appeared closer instantly. With the light brush of her body against his he felt a surge in his loins that was odd and unusual for someone such as himself. He had never been so captivated and the heat that surged through his body had never been so quick, especially when her touch had been so cold. It was odd, as if her cold was drawing all of his warmth and heat from him towards her. But, his thoughts were no longer of concern, he was completely lost in her, his mind foggy.

Her words caught his heart again and unlike she who was able to look away from him, his eyes never left looking over her and into her own eyes. With her very flirtacious comments Lucius was mesmerized, he had not the feelings had he been fully conscious, but he tried to grasp what she had said the best he could with a simple nod. The smile that next formed on his face was not caused by his own delight, but he mirrored her own smile as he nodded in agreement. Her finger that traced upon his breastplate feeling as if he had not been wearing any armor at all for he swore that he felt the touch upon his skin.

When had been the last time he had actually said something? Lucius was beyond confused, but it was all taking place in his clouded mind. He tried to find his way through it all but he simply could not see. The feeling so scary and odd that he felt his breathing getting quicker and heavier. As she asked him to come with her he took a few steps to follow her before her eyes were taken off of his own. At that moment his mind had fully become clear once again and he was fully in control of himself. Stopping in his tracks he simply watched as she walked away, his mind now trying to catch up with all the thoughts that had been confused and led astray.

Finally, feeling totally back in control of himself Lucius reached for his blade and was about to remove it and call for her to stop as he stepped in her direction again, but that idea and thought ceased immediately as she turned around and looked at him again. His hands fallen fully at his sides and feeling weak in all ways his mind had grown cloud once again, all because of her eyes. Walking off slowly in her direction he now followed without pause, mindlessly as she led the way.

 

[tidemorgan]

Lucius stepped around the corner and Livia waited not far off, standing beside a column, her arms crossed beneath her chest. Her expression was of schooled patience, though the drive for blood boiled within her. She scraped her nails against her bare upper-arm in a manner of restraining herself, then unfolded her arms with a trace of a smile edging over her mouth. "It's not far," she informed him, canting her head and turning aside from him without reaching out to touch or assure him of any intent that she might have. She had faith that he would not give up the pursuit.

She led him a short distance down the road before stepping into an off-shoot, a narrow alleyway whose dark shadows coalesced around her slender figure. There she turned, out-stretching her hand to the side, palm resting on what appeared to be a wall, but creaked open as she applied pressure. She stepped inside, leaving the door open for him to follow after her. When he did step in behind her, she'd emerge from behind the open door and close it behind him, slipping a lock in place with what could be perceived as a playful smile.

"And you see, I have you trapped," she crooned, her tone a strange mix of mockery, but a bit of teasing as well. "Not that I doubt your abilities in prying open locks or pushing your way past whatever barriers you might encounter."

If he managed to give a look around the room, he'd find it simple in structure: a single room with wisps of fabric that arched their way around the ceiling. A small table adorned with candlestick, pitcher, and glasses sat off to one side, a pile of pillows in varying shades decorating the center of the room. There was a single window, shuttered and blockaded with a thick, brown square of fabric. A staircase descended downward to the right of the door.

Livia sidled up alongside him, a pair of fingers sliding along his sword belt, though her eyes remained focused on his face. "Tell me, do you know how to use this?" she asked as her fingers continued along the belt, pausing at the hilt of the blade. Here she curled her hands around the metal and she pulled the weapon free. It might have been heavy for a woman of her slight frame, but she held it with ease. "Or is it merely a decoration?" She set the tip of the blade against his breastplate, the look on her face even, almost serious, but for the slight quirk at the corners of her lips.

 

[Starsailor2804]

Lucius followed without anymore resistance or pause as he had once when she had taken her eyes off of him. He was completely sold at this point as his mind was clouded. He was a stupid sheep being led to the slaughter. Turning to follow her down an alleyway even though he had not seen her go down it, he had just known that was where she went, he saw her leaned against the wall with ease. She was cool in all that she did, so smooth, as if she had done this hundreds of times before, which had his mind been clear he surely would have known that.

Had he been of sound mind he would have been surprised and found it odd for there to be such a hidden opening on these streets but he wasn't and entered the dark lair without hesitation. Appearing behind him the door closed and locked, trapped, but not having any clue to it. He was a man without a brain in his control, a man at the whim of a seductress who was much more sinister than that, of something he had never seen before. Looking around the room he caught her words and smiled at the words she had chosen so delicately. He had never had to pry any lock, but he had sure pushed his way past many barriers in his life time, including all the virgins whose barrier he had broken in his pursuits.

Suddenly, like before, the woman appeared at his side quickly in an approach he could not sense. Feeling her eyes on him he looked back into her eyes and found himself lost, as lost as the sheep he had been to this point. But, there was something she did not take into account. Surely she had preyed on youthful legionaires like him before, many who had likely never had to wield their sword before, or she may have known that a veteran was very attached to the blade at his side. It was never something could be taken away, given yes, but not taken. Feeling himself being able to think clearer again the fog that had clouded his mind began to lift as the woman wielded the sword with ease.

With his mind clear and knowing that something was wrong with where he was and something odd and sinister about this woman Lucius shifted his weight and shot forwards towards her. Sliding off his shoulder the blade barely missed his neck as he thrusted his right arm forward, catching the woman under the neck and lifting her skyward. At a continued run of unparalled speed he carried her in that arm alone and slammed her into the stone wall, sending items of the room everywhere in his path he had taken. "I don't know who or what you are, but you do not touch my sword," he said, his eyes looking deep into her own, which was an incredible mistake he would soon find out.

Rising her higher off the ground by her neck he felt himself growing weak again, the fog that had clouded his mind slowly returning, but arm and grasp on her did not favor. Surely, the whole event shocking to this woman who had thought she had him wrapped around her finger.

 

[tidemorgan]

Livia had not expected this reaction, though she could sense the tensing of his muscles, could see them tighten at this close proximity, and she knew she had awoken something inside of him. Anger. She could have slipped aside, could have acted in a manner to remove herself from the situation, but she rode his anger, kept her grip on the sword tight even as his hand clapped around her throat and thrust her hard against the wall. She did not gasp or struggle for breath...to do so would have been a mere glimpse of a past when her lungs filled with air. Indeed she looked rather unaffected by his hand pressing down on her throat, save for some discomfort as she dangled.

She chuckled, or at least would have if her vocal cords were not so constricted. The sound came out choked, but green eyes bore into him steadily, her mouth twisted oddly...almost a smile, almost a determined scowl. She could feel his reserve weakening again, but she remained calm, waiting out the storm, though it thrilled her, made her bloodlust thicken. So many she'd encountered, taken, that had given her little struggle. This...this was different. Welcome.

Her free hand lifted, fingers settling upon his wrist, nails trailing down his arm leaving faint red marks. She reached his elbow, dragged her nails back up to his wrist, which she gripped and squeezed, applying pressure to the soft inside with her nail. She did not press hard, not to draw blood--to do so, combined with the recently transpired events, would drive her into a frenzy--but to make a point.

 

[Starsailor2804]

If Lucius was like some he would have pummelled her with his other hand making her face a bloody mess, but he was not capable of doing such a thing. However, he grew incredibly close as the woman not only tried to laugh during it all, but began to scratch at his arms as well. "Shut up whore!" Though the scratches did not draw blood they sure hurt enough and suddenly she gripped his wrist and hit the pressure point causing him to quickly loosen his grip on her throat allowing her to fall to the ground. "Who in the hell are you or should I say what are you?" Groaning in pain with his left arm he drew his hand into a fist and attempted to send a devastating blow to her head.

Somehow he had a feeling it would fail though, why he had such a thought he did not know for never had he launched a blow that he did not land. But, he had doubt this time as he looked up at her into his face. His mind was becoming clouded quickly and though he tried as hard as he might to shrug it off it simply did not work. His ability to still fight through this all showed much to his might and courage, but he truly felt like he was fighting a losing battle. His mnd continued to tell him to give up, to quit, that he was going to lose and just submit, but he could not do such a thing. He would not quit, not until his last breath, the last beat of his heart, his last drop of blood.

 

[tidemorgan]

He released her and she slid down the length of the wall, legs nearly collapsing under her as her knees buckled slightly. She steadied herself quickly, dipping under his arm as it extended. She was quick, swifter than he had been in pinning her to the wall. She did not brush against him, but calmly set some space between them, bravely turning her back to him. When she turned towards him again, her face remained cool and steady, though she reached up to brush back strands of chestnut hair that had fallen into her eyes, then smoothed the pale green fabric of her toga.

"I am not a whore," she responded crisply, her agitated tone the only sign of her irritation at the term. "I have not once invited you to my bed, though it amuses me to know you've twisted my words to believe so." The irritation vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the even-toned mockery. "What is it with you men and your swords? Strap some armor on a man and you get a walking erection." She affected a thoughtful air, though cold eyes remained steady on his face. "Though I wonder of the taste of the blood that rushes there, if it would be any sweeter than the rest of you."

She let him wonder at that even as she dared to step a little closer, testing his anger and almost curious to see what he would do if provoked further. She had little worry for her own safety, already having no life beating in her chest. She held up the sword that she still gripped in her hand. "You wanted this, did you not? I suppose my touch defiles it." She slid her fingers along the blade, eyes locked on him, watching his movements, noting the stiffening of muscles if he were to move again. "Would you risk sheathing your sword inside me, I wonder? Or do you think my flesh will burn the blade?" Her words were ever a mix of promise and threat, to be taken in one way and then another. Which did she mean?

 

[Starsailor2804]

Not only had his blow missed her completely, but she was nowhere to be found. All he struck was air and a blow to his manhood, not only for trying to strike a woman, but missing completely in it as well. Now he was angry, his blood surging through his veins faster now than ever has his heart beat rapidly. Turning quickly he watched her as she had swiftly put significant distance between them both. What the heck had just happened? At least his mind was clear once again and he had no fuzzy thoughts as he had been clouded with that led him here in the first place.

"Now I don't like to strike women, but you sure do know how to push buttons woman, you had best watch your tongue." The fact she had mentioned the taste of blood went right over his head at first, but as if it could, he caught it once it bounced off the wall back at him. Taste of blood? His mind sorted over a wide variety of things that could mean. Was she a woman with a sick mind or what he had feared before, some sort of demon? Truly he did not know her true identity or what being she was called, but demon sounded like the best title for one such as this.

As she stepped closer in defiance, his blade still in her hands, he wondered what she intended to do exactly. His face in rage with anger as she spoke of his blade and mocking him at the same time for his attachment to it, all Lucius could think of was strangling the life out of her. To use a blade was overkill and way too quick for someone like her. However, he wondered if either would actually kill such a being. As she raised the blade to him he hissed and took his own step forward, even if he was disarmed he would not stand for this. "I am done with this, if you do not drop my blade now you risk me sheathing the blade I still hold in you," he said as he grabbed his inner thigh with his hand showing her his engorged organ that pressed against the fabric that confined it.

"Now drop the fucking blade!"

 

[tidemorgan]

Livia could have ended all of this quite easily, her speed and strength more than a match for the man in front of her. She could have had him and be done with it, drained him for what he was worth and left him a husk upon her floor. Yet she clung to her restraint, a restraint that kept the cool mask across her face, those green eyes rigid and her mouth curved into a smile just short of greatly amused. It was a mask meant to agitate, to goad. She continued to slide her fingers along the length of the blade in her hands, an enticing motion to someone perhaps not incensed. That she was teasing him in some fashion could not be lost on him.

Yet that cool mask slipped slightly as her eyes followed the motion of his hand near his groin, eyes gaining a nearly glossy look as she viewed the curve of the swollen member against the cloth. He might mistake it for lust, but the thought of him thick with blood sang to her senses. She stood for a moment, choked with a sudden need to rush him, to pin him and press her face against the extension, seeking out the precious vein that throbbed there. To simply be done with this charade.

But as quickly as the mask slipped, it returned again as she grabbed at her composure, having never felt comfortable with anyone seeing these lapses. She smiled at him, a sweet smile that did not reach her eyes, and set her finger at the tip of the blade. "That you think you could impale me is something of an amusement in itself. How quickly do you think I could set this blade against your thigh and snip? You'd be rather swordless then...wouldn't you?"

As if she demonstrate her point, she slipped forward, quickly and unimpeded, a mere slip of a shadow as she passed the space between them, the full length of her body stopping, completely pressed against him, her hand reaching down to grasp hold of him, hardly mindful of the cloth that encased the rigid phallus. She squeezed, not hard, fingers stroking briefly. Then she set the blade against the side and kept it there, green eyes locking with his as she chuckled. "You wanted me to drop your sword?" she taunted cruelly with another squeeze of his member. "Which one, exactly? Perhaps you wish to sacrifice one for the other?"

 

[Starsailor2804]

There was a change in her face as she focused her eyes on his hand as he wished her to. Though he had intended it for an insult it seemed there was a smirk and a hungered drive in her eyes that pretty much shut him up. He knew that she did not fall into lust at the sight, not one bit, there was so sickness there that he could not understand for he did not know what she really was. Had he known the real truth he would have been much more cautious and defensive at this point, even more so than he was thinking she was a foul creature.

And then, just as much as her appearance changed it reverted back to a sweet smile that was anything but sweet and instead just a play. She felt power and wielded it well, so well she felt empowered to insult him at length and had done so before and would do so again. With her questions that were nothing but insults for once Lucius found himself about to smile and laugh at the humor in it. She was striking back for his insult, but he had not even begin to form a smile or utter a single vocal laughter for quickly she was upon him again. She had covered such distance quicker than he could even blink and pressed herself up against him with such strength, causing him to step back so his back was pressed up against the wall.

Before he could even react or move she had pressed against him so tightly that his face was close enough to hers to feel her breath if she had one. Looking up slightly and over her shoulder for a moment he had not even seen her move as she ran her hand over the cloth of his pants before grasping ahold of his engorged member. Gasping at the strong hold, but careful squeeze he felt all blood rush south quickly, his heart beating incredibly rapidly. Had any other woman taken a hold of him like that in an encounter that led up to this he would have denied the growth of it, but he had no control now.

As it grew and was restricted by the tight fabric it bent accordingly for her to grasp in her hand. The blade had never been dropped and tapped against his side as the tip made a soft clang against the wall. His head lowered and his eyes returned to look deep into hers once again, but were not lost in the way that it had clouded his mind before. He was fully alert though in her control even more now for at points as she squeezed it drew light gasps and unease in his stance. At the end of her first question he had planned on responding, but was shut up quickly by another squeeze of his member that so wished to break free from the confines of his pants.

"I....," he begun to say when a surge of excitement from her touch shot through him again, "....know as well as you do that I am not in the one in control here nor are you merciful to grant me my requests." Leaning his head back so the top of his head was pressed against the wall as her touch had drawn him to a state of great euphoria, he had no idea that by doing so would expose his neck so openly and that was what she hungered after him for from the start. Not only was his neck exposed to her, but by the stretch his veins came even more visible to the surface.

 

[tidemorgan]

Sliding her fingers over his phallus, the edge of the blade still in her hands pressed up against him, she watched with removed coolness, though underneath that calm facade there was a trace of amusement, his response to the grasp of her hand. All men, it would seem, were like putty when entrapped in such a fashion. "So quickly you turn from lion to kitten," she crooned, leaning forward, breasts uncomfortably pressed against his armored plate. "And here I thought you would be a challenge."

She sheathed the sword back into place at his belt, as if some of the excitement within her had gone away at tormenting so once he had so readily accepted that she was in control of the situation. Still, it brought a smirk to her mouth...and her eyes as well. Leaning forward, chin tilted upwards, she maintained her sliding grip upon that swollen organ, hand trembling slightly, knowing it to be full of blood. The bloodlust called to her, pulsed through her, mounting as she glanced over the curve of his neck and the throbbing vein. She bit her lip, summoning up a little more restraint--would there be anything to gain but a return to boredom if she indulged herself so quickly?

"It is the rare man that can admit he is not in control," she offered, voice thick and throaty, her eyes entranced with the vein at his throat. "Especially for a man so impressed by his own sword." She laughed lightly, squeezed the organ again even as she lifted her mouth upwards, free hand gliding over the exposed flesh of his neck, fingernails a light tickle as she caressed him. This hand gripped at his chin, strong grasp pulling his face downwards to draw his mouth against hers. She slid her tongue lightly over his lower lip then probed, lips parting to encourage the opening of his. She kissed him, long, lingering...a hunger there...tongue testing, teasing, drawing his over into her own mouth.

And that is when she nipped, sharp canine snatching at the tip of his tongue. She did not bite hard, just enough to draw droplets of blood. As the strong, metallic taste washed over her tongue, she groaned against him, drinking it down, even as her hands gripped him, one on his phallus, the other still clutching his chin to her mouth. There were few guesses as to why she might act so, the more obvious being that she enjoyed his struggles, his anger. Still, should he fight, she refused to let go.

 

[Starsailor2804]

Unfortunate for him he could not feel the sensation of her supple breasts against his breastplate, but his eyes were immediately draw them before he looked back up into her eyes as she squeezed his member again. "It is hard to be a lion when you have it by the balls," he said with a sly smile as he tried to reach down and remove her hand from his member at this point. However, it was a weak attempt really, plus a stronger squeeze caused him to stop such an attempt to bring her toying with him to an end.

Feeling the sword sheath back into its sheath as his head was drawn back against the wall and his neck exposed he laughed, causing his adam's apple to move up and down slightly as he swallowed. "It appears you have decided what sword to drop." With that thought Lucius knew he was opening himself up to appearing to submit, but as soon as she sheathed his sword he knew she was unarmed and he would have the chance to take her now. But, there was still a heavy doubt in his mind for he had seen her strength and she still pinned him to the wall with ease. He had tried to push against her before but she had not moved an inch.

As she grabbed his chin he had no chance of resisting as she yanked his head down with ease to draw him into a deep and passionate kiss. At first he resisted, but soon he opened himself fully up to her again and as her tongue probed he danced his own against hers. Gosh her tongue was long, and nearly snake-like, for its strength outmatched his own as everything seemed to between him and her. The kiss deepened as she leaned forward further and while holding his chin tightly she kept his head securely against the wall behind him. The nip of his tongue by her tooth had gone totally without notice for the nip had been so small and light and he was already in pain from her grip of his chin and pleasure from the grip upon his member.

Deep in the kiss and seemingly lost in the moment and feel of it all Lucius believed this was his best chance to take her. Pressing himself against the wall he lowered his right hand towards her hand that held onto his member through the cloth and prepared to push it away. As it was over the cloth he knew her grip was not as great had he been naked, and really, had she held the bare flesh he would never have prepared to do what he knew he had to. Suddenly, pressing off the back wall with every ounce of strength he had he slammed his head forwards as he bit down with his mouth. At the same moment he grabbed at her wrist that held his member and pushed down and away as his hold body attempted to drive forwards.

Eventually, he planned to lift her as he had before but instead of drawing her across the room he planned on lifting her slightly before driving her onto the ground with him crashing down ontop of her.

 

[tidemorgan]

The bloodlust enveloped her and though her grip was strong, she was slowly losing herself to the ecstasy as it trickled down her throat, light as the flow of blood was. She practically writhed against him as the warmth of the blood filled her mouth and throat, another low groan escaping her mouth as she tasted it.

The groan sharpened into a gasp as he bit down suddenly, teeth clamping over her lip. She jerked back, if only because she had not expected the action...but she had little time to react as she felt herself lifted suddenly, him struggling against her distracted hold. A little dazed, her head a little cloudy, she did not fight against the movement and found herself thrown upon the ground, pinned beneath the larger man. She flinched, back arching, as the weight of him and his armored torso slammed down upon her, but she found herself laughing.

Tilting her head back slightly, blood trickled out a corner of her mouth. She licked at the light line of red, her mouth curving into a smirk as she slanted green eyes at him. "Perhaps not so much the kitten after all," she purred. She could see the throbbing vein at his throat, an intense sight for a creature so enthralled by the bloodlust.

"Is it that you think you can still sheath your sword in me?" She arched against him slightly, her hips pressing against him in a taunting fashion. But for his armor, her breasts could graze him. She had less strength so pinned, but she knew she could twist herself away if she needed to. The sharp taste of blood throbbed over her tongue still and she licked her lips, remembering its tang and remembering the feel of his own organ thick with blood grasped in her hand.

She groaned a little, head arching backwards. The groan trailed in a throaty chuckle and she snaked one hand up to bury itself against the back of his neck, nails raking, digging in. "A taste, just a quick one," she rasped, nails pressing harder, desiring to see the sheen of blood.

 

[Starsailor2804]

Placing his arm against her neck to pin her down at a vital spot Lucius pushed down hard, had she been anybody else she would have gasped for breath that she could not catch. Seeking breath did not matter to her. What happened next should have been expected by now, but her laughing caught him off guard and angered him even more. Could he not hurt this thing? As she licked at the blood trail at the corner of her mouth he continued to press down hard.

At her question he nearly did reach for his sword but decided against it, again a big mistake, though with her speed he truly doubted that he would be able to thrust it into her before she could react. Watching her lick her lips as she raised her hips to tease him further he gritted his teeth, anger surging through him again. Before he could react to her hand it snaked behind him and her nails tore into the back of his neck. Groaning in such extreme pain from it most would have let up their hold on her, but he did not one bit. Instead he put all weight down on her throat through his arm that laid across it.

That was when he felt blood begin to run down his neck and drip onto the clothes of the woman, or whatever one would call her at this point. Now he was pissed, extremely pissed. Removing his arm from her throat he quickly placed a hand on both side of her head. Gripping by the hair he raised her head off the ground before slamming it down. Again and again he slammed her head against the hard floor, he was no longer out to hurt her, what he was doing would have killed any thing that was human. He did not stop for one moment to bash the back of her head against the ground, the movement from attack causing the blood that ran on his neck now hitting her chest, neck, and worse of all, upon her lips.

With her legs opened wide now as he laid his lap against her own to steady himself, he continued the attack over and over again. Even though any person would be dead by now, he did not stop for one second, her head slamming again and again, her hair floating up and down covering her face.

 

[tidemorgan]

The laughter eased out of Livia as his arm pressed hard against her throat, her vocal cords constricted in such a way that the only sound that escaped was a wheeze that slid into disgruntled silence. The pressure was uncomfortable, almost unbearably so, but she could withstand, driven wild though she was by the sight and smell of the blood as it trickled down his neck. To see it pool upon her clothes rather than her mouth made a gutteral noise vibrate down her restricted throat.

The noise altered quickly, however, as the pressure left her throat, replaced at the crown of her head as hair was grasped and jerked. The feel of her head against the ground made her cry out in shock and her hands slapped through the air, darting to grab hold of the hand that clutched her braided tresses. Nails pinched his skin, digging, scraping, and she twisted beneath him with an anguished cry. She had not expected such a retaliation, though the fact that he fought her so violently made her shiver with the anticipation of the kill. This was a true challenge, the reason why she'd come to Rome in the first place.

She shuddered suddenly, an ecstasy flooding her, her lips parting as the blood sprayed occasionally across her soft mouth. Its scent as it dappled her face and chest and clothing inflamed her senses, igniting the bloodlust that turned her minor squirms into a fierce struggle; she could no longer ignore it. She took advantage of his positioning, legs wrapping around his lower body just beneath the armor. Her hands released from about his arms and snared him by the throat, fingers clenching--not all that hard, not wishing to kill him and have the blood run cold. His throat constricted, she thrust her body weight upwards and twisted his lower half with her legs, seeking to throw him balance and pin him to the floor.

 

[Starsailor2804]

As he slammed her head against the ground repeatedly he did not think of his actions at first until she began to cry and scream and her hands flailed about trying to grasp at him. Her cries made him weak for he wondered if she was not what he had thought she might be. As a result he had not helt her down with such forced and drove her head into the ground as he had before. This had been his big mistake. As her sharp nails dug incredibly deep into his skin she again had drawn blood and caused blood to flow down his arms on her own and onto her hair and face as well. What he had no idea was that his blood had strengthened her even more and it would be his undoing.

Lucius had barely the ability to even hold her down anymore due to the blood that had driven her to much greater strength and determination to turn the tables against him. Suddenly, her legs gripped around his waist so very tightly and painfully, but the most shocking thing was as her hands shot up towards his neck. He had no time to react and those small, but so very strong hands gripped at his throat and immediately cut off his air supply. Had she been a normal woman he would have never even be phased by her attempted choke for it would have been much weaker, but she was anything but a normal woman.

Trying to find air his hands instinctively released her hair and head and shot up to grab at her hands that was choking him to death. Unable to fight and resist well the tables were easily turned and he found himself now on the ground with her ontop of him and still choking, her nails digging into his throat and breaking the skin. As he felt himself losing all air he began to fight with all the limited strength he had left and kicked about feverishly, but in vain. His face growing purple he knew that he had very little time left and finally tried to reach for his sword and draw it.

 

[tidemorgan]

Livia loosened her grip on his throat as she stradled him, the grip of her legs still tight around her hips, her knees digging in against his pelvis. The smile on her face was feral, triumphant, as she gazed down at him, the sight of all the blood glazing his throat distracting her from the tensing of his arm as he reached down to fumble with the sword belted at his hip. So much of it was escaping her mouth, bleeding into the floor and soaking into clothing and skin. Such a waste. She groaned as she bent over his neck, her tongue teasing over his skin, drawing the sticky warmth of the blood into her mouth. It tingled on the tip of her tongue and heated her mouth, her body shuddering as the blood slid down her throat.

Enraptured, she hardly noticed his gropling hand and only then did she become aware of the new predicament as the sword sung free of the sheath, the noise catching at sensitive ears. She snapped up, blood on her mouth, hips swiveling over his groin as she reached out to grasp the offending hand. She managed to snag his wrist and drag it forward so that her torso was not twisted awkwardly. She pulled at his arm, squeezing precious flesh and bone, but she did not lower it to the ground or force the sword from his hand. Not yet. Instead she drew his sword hand close to her mouth. "You and your swords," she purred at him with a quick squeeze of her knees against his pelvis. "You cannot subdue me with your hands so you seek to stab me." She nuzzled her mouth against the soft skin of his wrist, the blood still hot and seductive on her lips. She could feel the vein pulsing beneath her grip, could see it beating out of the corner of her eyes. "Not much of a warrior, are you?" But he had been a fight, had been strength she had to work hard to subdue, a far cry from the pathetic men who collapsed so easily.

Bloodlust had taken her and though she might have found more amusement in toying with the man, she could not restrain any longer. Turning her mouth against the skin, her tongue lapping over it gently, briefly, before she dug her teeth into the vein, her other hand lifting to grasp the sword that he still held.

 

[Starsailor2804]

Looking up at her, such a sinister look in her eyes, Lucius knew he was in serious trouble, especially when he caught sight of fangs she had been unable to hide anymore while in bloodlust. Oh, he thought, a grand revelation, she was one of those. That made his struggle all the more dire for he knew that she wished to drink him dry or worse, convert him into one of those undead beasts. He would rather die in glory to travel to the next plane than to walk the ground forever as one of those vermin.

He struggled the best he could to grab his sword but he was weak and fumbled about, the blood running into his eyes, nose, and mouth did not help either. Finally, he had grabbed the sword and withdrawn it from the scabbard to someone stab her, but just as he pulled back her hand surged forward and grabbed his wrist. Her grip so strong and painful, but she grabbed no pressure point this time and no matter what she did he would not let her force it from his hand. Never, if it had to be he would die with it in his hand.

Unable to pull his arm back as she drew it towards with ease Lucius groaned and pulled as hard as he might. Rocking his hips and body back and forth as much as could he simply got nowhere in his protests anymore, either she had become much more stronger or he had become much weaker. As she brought her teeth to his wrist he struggled, harder and harder for he knew what she was about to do now. Then, all of sudden for a moment pain and darkness shot over him in a wave of end he had never felt before, something that scared him to death. She had buried her fangs deep into his wrist and began to drink from him there, both hands occupied to hold it as she drank. But, he had no fight left in him anyways, she was sucking all life from him.

He had only one last chance to show his defiance and he took it, knowing it was likely pointless in the end, but he would not go down without inflicting some sort of damage more than he already had. With his left hand he reached out for anything to help him and found it in a small statue of rock. Grasping it he held it as tightly as he could his desire to act soon, very soon, strong for he knew any more seconds wasted would only leave him weaker. Suddenly, he twisted his body towards his right as he whipped his hand holding statue as fast as he possibly could. It rushed through the air with such speed and force that he felt himself smiling and laughing during the entire event though he truly barely had time to feel anything.

And then, a loud enormous crack resounded throughout the room as the statue met contact with her head and sent her body off of him and sailing a few inches, maybe even a foot, before it crashed upon the floor again. Feeling triumphant he smiled, but he did not stand nor did he move for he simply couldn’t. His body had become far too weak now, blood trailing from his body, but he was conscious, alive, and knew that soon he could gather himself, but he had no doubt she would before he.

 

[tidemorgan]

She practically wrapped herself around his arm, her body arching forward, breasts cradling his upper-arm, as she held the wrist in her mouth. She lapped up the blood with her tongue that strayed from her mouth as she sucked down the hot fluid flowing through the prominent vein. Her body shivered, her eyes half-lidded. The sword had fallen from his hand and slicing along the palm of her hand, for she had grasped hold of the blade to keep him from striking her, but she had hardly noticing the fresh sting to her hand, the physical world a vague and misty place as she fed from him. Feeding had, at first, been a discomfort for Livia, much like sex for a virgin, but once she had felt the rapture... It had become easy to lose herself to the pleasure.

Pleasure shattered abruptly and, jarred from the suckling of his wrist, Livia found herself sprawled upon the ground, her head pained and fuzzy. She growled in frustration, both from her lost meal and the ringing in her ears. "Why do you keep fighting me?" she groaned, pushing herself to her feet again. She swayed at first, but was quick to recover, gazing hard at him as he smiled. Had the experience turned him into a madmen?

Before he had an opportunity to get off the ground, Livia strode over, the new blood in her system keeping her strong enough that the headache was beginning to fade. "Do you even know what an honor it is that I chose you?" she asked as she stradled his mid-section once more, legs gripping him tight. This time she took the precaution and pinned both his hands beside his head, ignoring the discomfort in her sliced hand as she pressed his wrist down. "Out of everyone out there, all those miserable fools, I picked you."

She laughed despite herself, her face close to his, her blood-soaked mouth almost brushed close to his. "But you have been a welcome change. I've never had to fight so hard to just get a bite..." She seemed rather amused and she set her mouth upon his throat, taking her time in savoring the blood that still speckled the flesh. She did not bite, just yet, reining in the bloodlust that beckoned her.

After a moment she lifted her head, her mouth hovering close to his ear. "You do not think me generous, do you?" she whispered, nipping at his earlobe...just to see him squirm. "Very well. Just to prove myself I will give you a choice." She tightened her grip on his wrists to ensure he was not going anywhere.* "I can prolong your death, keep you in this state, drink only enough to drain you little by little by little. I'm not so sure it's a comfortable death, but it would amuse me." She nipped then at his cheek, chuckled. "Or I can turn you. You would be like me: Stronger, quicker...a better warrior." Here she looked thoughtful, then slanted a glance at him and smirked. "Besides, it would be such a waste of power, don't you think, for one such as you to die?" She did not speak what clouded her judgment a moment: That she was lonely and tired of roaming the streets by herself. She did not wish for him to see that weakness. It would do well to have another of her kind present, one who did not find joy in simply being pretty.

She rested her mouth against his neck, teasing herself with its smell and taste...ah, she could lose herself in it. But she held back, feeling a grudging respect for a man, human though he was, that had managed to fight her off for this long.

 

[Starsailor2804]

Laughing at her discomfort he watched as she rose again and questioned his constant attacks, his desire to live when she knew he had no chance. He was not insane, not even close, but he knew his life was over and there was no reason to fear anymore. Death was upon him and he would go out, but know that he had given her a hard time to enjoy her feast. "I am honored to have met you so that I could make your feast so very hard to attain. If only I had my sword I would run it through you right now," he said with a laugh, the man was still talking about his damn sword. During this laugh though he coughed, the second time coughing out blood.

As she placed her mouth against his throat he readied himself to die for he felt now was it, he thought now was the time she would drink him dry and end it all. Squirming was a minimum as his strength was weak and his hands were pinned down so that he could not surprise her again. As she nipped at his earlobe and then at his cheek. "if you were to give me such power know that I would use it to kill you!" He squirmed again as her mouth rested against his neck, her teeth sliding along it. He really was that defiant and really had readied himself to die.

All he could hope was that she was done playing with him and would just end it, though how all things had gone this far he was not too confident that it was all over now.

 

[tidemorgan]

He coughed up blood and Livia leaned over him, placing a lingering kiss over the areas where the blood splattered, licking the matter off his face. That it might disgust him did not bother her; she was not there to impress. She chuckled as she lifted her face away from his, green eyes making a study of his face, her body tightening around her as he squirmed beneath. She could feel him strengthening beneath her, pushing past the blood-weakness that she had drawn him into. Would he be this much trouble if she were to keep him around, weakened and drained suitably? Or would she be able to pull him into a vague presence so deep that he could not fight his way out of it?

"You wish for death," she mused, green eyes bearing into his as an amused smile quirked the corners of her mouth. "Perhaps I should keep you alive until you beg for death. Or would it be more cruel to give you an eternity?" She considered it, lowering her mouth against his neck again, nipping, but not hard enough to puncture the skin. "Do not think I fear your threat to murder me. You could no sooner do so than you could just now." The lilting tone of her voice was mocking, hollow laughter chasing behind the words.

She lifted his left hand, sitting up a little straighter, but not too much so that she'd unpin his other hand. She brought his fingers to her mouth, teasing her tongue at their tips, then bit down on the end of his index finger, sucking on the blood that pooled over her tongue, her grip tightening on his hands and body if he tried to jerk away. "I could find these little treasure troves of blood all night. I have eternity. You do not." Granted the sun would rise and her attempts to barricade door and windows from the sun were rather pitiful--she'd need to retreat into the lower chamber if she wished to survive the day.

Considering this, Livia gripped released his hand and sat up, his hands no longer pinned at his side. She gave him little time to consider his options, however, hauling him to his feet and gripping him firmly by the arms even as she too stood up. She kept her grip firm as she drew him against her. "Why don't I show you where you will stay as you grow weaker?" she purred at him and pulled him towards the staircase that descended another level. Clearly she'd decided she would let him weaken until she'd either tired of the charade and killed him or turned him.