Thy Beating Heart (Closed Thread)

[MaiusImperium]

It was a cold winter’s night. The moon hung fat and pale in the midnight blue sky, dark wisps of cloud could only dull the silvery light that emanated from it. The night was silent, deathly so, the frosty air devoid of even the lightest of breezes to rattle the barren and crooked branches of the trees that clustered in large groups about the well appointed mansion. Suddenly an owl’s hoot pierced the night sky, enquiring and curious, as if even the owl could sense something was amiss that night. The mansion was unique in it managed to carry of an aura older than the trees that surrounded it, no mean feat as the trees in the surrounding wood were tall and gnarled, their branches reaching out like warped and arthritic old fingers, devoid of leaves now in the deepest depths of winter.

Bank upon bank of tall bay windows were arranged neatly. A warm and welcome yellow light glowed faintly behind a few of them, but many of the windows remained black as the night around them, creating gaping maws of darkness in the front of the house that almost seemed to stare back at the Wood that encased the tiny clearing in which the house was situated. Great slats of wood and hewn stone and brick formed the body of the dark abode. The wood was twisted and warped, gnarled almost as badly as the trees surrounding it, as if the entire mansion had simply sprung up from the earth at the dawn of time. Above the broad wooden doors that marked the front entrance, atop two heavy wooden pillars lay the crest of a long-forgotten house, the Vercetti bloodline.

For in the darkest bowels of the Vercetti Estate dwelled a truly unnatural and unholy creature. Brooding alone before an open fire, it’s eyes burning with emptiness, the last of the Vercetti Bloodline gazed emptily into the flames that raged in the fireplace before it. And an ‘it’ it was, for it could truly not be described as a mortal man, of living flesh. It’s skin was pale and its features strikingly defined, body poised gracefully and sculpted as if made carved from marble by the finest Italian artisans. His hair was dark and long, wavy and tied back neatly, his dull eyes seemed dark as pitch and hollow, reflecting the flames before him almost perfectly.

And as it sat there it pondered it’s long existence on the earth. For a centuries he had brooded there, the last of a dying bloodline, the once grand house about him falling into disrepair, he mouldered and festered alone with the house. His name was Davion Vercetti and he was the last of his line, he was a creature of the night, a shadow stalker, a daemon, he was a vampire. Slowly his eyes moved to regard the room he was sat in, there had been life in here once. The Vercetti estate had bustled with activity, a small but proud bloodline of vampires yet they had now fallen on hard times, Davion’s sire managing to earn the unwanted attentions of a power vampire noble who had taken it upon himself to destroy his lineage completely. To this end the powerful vampire had succeeded, yet one still remained, Davion.

Yet this night he would set things plans in motion, the fruition of two centuries of being closeted up in his Manse, only being allowing himself to leave to partake of the mortal vitae that sustained his undead body. The vampire’s eyes seemed to brighten of their own accord as his thoughts built upon each other, his bloodline would be strong again. And then, and then, his descendants would plague the accursed Devereux bloodline for the devastation they had wrought upon his sire and the rest of his ancestors. The vampire’s blackened heart almost began to stir in it’s cold chest, as he revelled in the scenes he played out in his mind. Heady visions of the richest and most delicious pains he would inflict upon the Devereux flashed through his mind hotly, his eyes now positively burning with a strange kind of lust. It was minutes before Davion brought himself about from his dark reverie, he pushed such notions to the back of his mind irritably, his smooth features contorting into a frown that did not become his appearance or manner at all. He was supposed to above such drunk fantasising, he had waited two hundred years, he could wait a few years longer. Patience.

Inevitably this brought his thoughts back to the source of his reverie, the thing that would serve as his instrument of revenge and deliverance, to her. Memories of the last decade flashed through his mind to he retraced his memory back to the day he had first laid eyes on her. From the shadows he had watched her since she was a young child, his eyes growing more and more covetous as the years passed and she eventually bloomed into the ripe prime of womanhood. From the shadows he watched with covetous eyes, on and on, each day his desire growing, his intentions become darker as he fuelled his thirst for revenge and the rejuvenation of his blood line. His eyes burned for her, painfully sow.

Sleeping during the day he would arise with the owl’s hoot and watch her from the shade of twilight, obscured from the simple hamlet barely a mile from his own Mansion. Lurking amongst the trees he would watch her voyeuristically, his matchless eyesight allowing him greedy and lustful glimpses at her ripe body. Occasionally A careless crack in the curtains or sheer ignorance of someone watching from between the elms and oaks in the Woods allowed him to enjoy a brief flash of bosom or the curve of a hip. Once or twice he even found her taking lovers to her bed, on those occasions he smirked to himself and watched on, his mind rife with the images of what he would do to her, of how he would make her his.

Slowly it became harder and harder to resist yet his will was strong, far stronger than a mere mortal’s, and every night he would return to his manse long before the sun began to creep up over the horizon. Sometimes her eyes peeked out into the night, oblivious to the lustful grin and gleaming eyes that stared right back at her, yet he was sure, sometimes there was something he sensed in her, a keen perceptiveness as if their eyes were meeting and she new, something was out there, watching her, waiting for her.

And so he had bided his time, up until this point. Slowly, surely his body rose from the high-backed and ornately carved wooden armchair, his recently completely static body coming alive in the blink of an eye, a light grin playing on his deep lips. Davion brought his hand up and clicked his fingers, a door creaked open slowly and two of his attendants filed in, a short balding man and a tall and fair maid. At first glance they two servants appeared to be alive, yet their eyes were empty, devoid of soul and their faces expressionless, now little more than fleshy mannequins to attend to his every need.

“It is time.” It was a simple statement, spoken in a cold and crisp voice, confident but almost lifeless. With those three simple words he stalked out of the room, his two attendants in in tow. On and on down dark musty corridors he went, doors flanked either side sporadically, doors to rooms that had remained closed for a century or more. Yet this part of the Mansion was well lit, the path to his private chambers. Hours passed as Davion bathed in scented and soapy water and was dressed carefully. He could leave nothing to chance this night and vampires were nothing if not immaculate in their appearance. His attendants went about their lifeless task precisely but monotonously, they clad him in breeches and stockings, tight fitting yet elegant on his frame and a pale silk shirt, all frill and lace. Easing his arms into a navy blue waist coat he buttoned up the gold-brocaded material and allowed himself a glance in the mirror, straightening his long hair and making sure it was tied back securely. Without even a satisfied nod to himself he dismissed his attendants. It was time to cast the die.

Davion emerged from the confines of his Mansion which had seemed to feel more like a coffin to him of late. With a blur of movement he seemed to flit from shadow to shadow as no man aught to, his for was at times little more than a dark mist as it flitted from shadow to shadow, stalking deep into the trees that did a unnaturally good job of keeping his abode hidden from the people of the tiny village Davion was destined for. In no time at all he had covered the distance to the woman’s house, the woman he had watched for so long, yet he didn’t even know her name. By the end of the night he would know much more than that, his thoughts echoed about his own head as he emerged from the trees, his feet making almost no noise at all under the dry bracken and foliage under his boots. Eyes glinting sharply in the night now, he looked to her house, not an inconsiderable property, easily the largest and most affluent in the whole village. Cautiously he remained on the periphery of the woodland, there was a clearing to the rear of her house. Suddenly his eyes light up, the curvy silhouette of his quarry appeared behind the drawn curtains, light pouring out from around her shadowed form.

A sharp smirk crossed his lips, revealing a row of pearly white teeth and a pair of venomous looking fangs. Smoothly he stepped out of the edge of the woodland, the light from her bed chambers illuminating his form slightly, had she looked out she would see him. One step, then another, an unsettling smile on his lips, his pale skin almost could almost be said to be glowing in the quicksilver moonlight. Moments passed, he watched her. His movements as smooth as a cobra’s he bent down and picked up a small pebble from the dirt beneath his feet and threw it at her window. The stone tapped on the glass lightly, as it did Davion’s form evapourated into a thin and dark miasma and flitted across the clearing and into the shadow of her house, below her window, he pressed up against the wall, always the tiny smile playing on his features. Idly her pondered how would she react. It was so much like a game now. As clever and powerful as he may have appeared, Davion had his limitations, his bloodline was afflicted with a particular inconvenient defect; he had to be invited willingly into a person’s home before he could enter. For the inconvenience, it made the game so much better, more challenging. Again he picked up a tiny stone and threw it up at her window before moving back into the shadows at the foot of her house, he glanced up at the window, it was difficult to see much from his angle yet he could taste her apprehension, her curiosity. From here his sharpened senses could taste her light perfume, even the scent of her body, unique to each person he had come to know hers, the scent of her blood very well indeed over the years.

He could sense no other mortals in the house, she was alone. His grin widened, his tongue range lightly over his fangs deliciously. It was perfect, at home, alone. It was important to keep them on edge, keep them guessing, a confused prey was so much easier to ensnare. Without wasting any more time he moved to the front of the house, his feet carrying him with the stalking swagger of a tiger or leopard. He came to the front door and knocked. Tap, tap, tap. Three knocked, light and evenly spaced.

“Come out, come out, my fair lady.” He spoke the words quietly to himself with a not inconsiderable amount of sadistic self satisfaction and relish. His eyes glinted dangerously.

 

[AngelicAnguish]

Life had been effortless, privileged and filled with abundance. Or at least it was that way compared to those in the village, her family was one of the more fortunate. They had lived in luxury that her father had worked hard to provide, he was a smart businessman who had been successful in investments within the village and those abroad. Several times he had thought of moving to one of the larger cities, yet each time he could not give up on his humble beginnings. So instead, he kept a residence here where his daughter permanently stayed and then others scattered through the country side.

Isabelle had nothing to complain about, nothing to worry about. She knew it was a good life. At times she even felt as though a guardian angel watched over her, ensuring that things would go as ordained. The feelings would become so strong that she could swear she felt eyes on her and knew when his thoughts turned to her.

As long as she could remember someone had watched her, observed her grow from a child into the woman she was today. Strangely though the sensation only ever came at night, often when she was worried or when she had left her room in secrecy.

As a child the sensations of having someone close, someone watching, had provided security when at times it was lacking. Warmth when at times she felt no one knew she was there. As she grew, it provided a source of frustration and a strange arousal that she could not explain. To imagine someone watching her during her intimate moments sent a thrill through her and filled her with warmth.

What ever was in those shadows had seen the transformation from clumsy, chubby, happy child into the lean, graceful woman she now was. Dark brown hair flowed down her back, slightly curling in such a way that it gave her hair that wild look unless she took the time to restrained it with pins and ribbons. Her eyes, a blue so bright that only the midday sky rivalled their colour. Pale skin was another feature, she avoided direct sunlight when she could though never knowing fully why.

Yet through it all, she still remained an outsider in the village among those of the same class and age group. The other girls were married, many had families on the way and she still resided with her parents. What they waited for she did not know. Maybe they had been unable to find a match for her, many men would find her education appalling. Yet even though she wished to one day be wed, she did not at all want it to be now.

There was something more for her life. She knew it, felt it. It hummed in the air, the night called to her, beckoned her forth. Even now she could feel it, the air crackled with life and desires unfulfilled. What ever it was, it was close. A giddiness rose up in her, she twirled herself around. She was certain all would become clear soon.

With warm thoughts on her mind she continued to twirl and dance around the room. Fluidly she moved, each movement precise and controlled yet still a freedom that many did not know filled the room. Beautiful was the only word that would describe the scene, had anyone been there to watch her.

A noise at her window made her jump slightly before she smiled, a lover most likely coming to visit knowing that she was alone. Eagerly she rushed to the window, threw open the curtains and looked out to the yard below. Who would be the one to surprise her this night? Nothing was there. Yet now she could feel him, her guardian angel. Again she searched the yard, and again there was nothing she could see out of the normal.

Slowly she opened the window, the cool night breeze pressed the thin pale pink gown to her body. Sharply she inhaled as the coolness caused her nipples to tighten, the fabric caressing them softly like lovers lips would. She wanted to slide her own hand up, to touch the firm peaks of her breasts yet did not. The shadows watched, but tonight felt different. What was different?

A knocking came next. Maybe that is why she could not see him, he was at the door eager to see her and hold her. Many men had shared chaste kisses with her and control caresses, many had wanted to take her as their Mistress, offering to provide for her yet she had held firmly to her virginity, only allowing them to go so far. Teasing them in a way, enjoying the power she could have over men. Which one would be here now? Would he beg her to be his mistress?

Pausing at the door she touched her hand to the wood. Who stood on the other side. She felt as though she knew yet it remained just beyond touch. Sliding her fingers down the door, she questioned, her voice shaky from exhilaration.

"Who is there?"

Unable to wait for an answer, slowly she opened the door, her curiosity far greater than any caution she may have felt. As it opened she could not help but inhale slightly, the sight before her was not what she expected. The man who stood there was handsome and powerful, she felt it immediately. Her stomach did a flip flop. What did he want with her and who was he? And why did he feel familiar to her.

A vision she must be, clad in nothing more than her pale night-gown. The fabric sheer enough that one could see more than they should but not enough to know. Arousal coursed through her almost immediately.

Logic though kicked her mind, forcing her to wonder what had brought this man to her door at night. What did he want? Who was he? And how could such a beautiful man be in the village without her knowing.

“Can I help you?”

 

[MaiusImperium]

It was not long before he heard footsteps from behind the door, light as a goose down to his ears yet perceptible all the same. Composed as he was he could not prevent a quiver of trepidation skitter down his spine as he stared at the wooden door before him, as though boring right through it and into the eyes of the young woman on the other side. Patiently he waited, like a cheetah stalking an antelope before the chase. Her scent grew stronger and stronger, she must have been directly on the other side of the door now, only the two inches of wooden door separating them now. And then she spoke, her voice smooth and womanly like silk, her tone music to his ears, unsure, curious and…anxious? He could sense it in here even behind the door, his smile widened for a moment, he took a perfunctory breath of air and closed his eyes. There was silence. When he opened them again his whole demeanour had changed, his eyes were wide and almost puppy-like, his expression imploring and endearing. No longer appearing confident and slightly unsure of himself, yet his eyes still sparkled dangerous, the glint of the predator would never fade from them.

The door opened before Davion could answer, slowly the slat of light coming from behind the door became wider and before him stood her. The girl, nay the woman he had gazed upon languorously for so many years. It was all he could do to stop his breath being snatched away by her, the smell of her perfume assaulted him like never before, he had never been so close. Yet this was no time to let his mind drift.

“Please, My Lady, my carriage is but a mile down the path, I went over a craggy rock hidden in the darkness and the wheel is damaged beyond repair . It is an unforgiving night and I would be most gracious if your ladyship would allow us to take refuge here for the night. With the dawn perhaps I can make my way into town and find help.” His tone was a world apart from the cold and self-assured vampire. He was expressive, sincere and helpless now, his tone rose and dipped unsurely. He looked more like a young noble man now unused to dealing with the opposite sex yet he still carried himself with the air of someone who thought themselves superior. Pupils dilated and he focused on the scent of her fear in the air for a moment, like a fine spice to his preternatural senses, it served to fuel his arousal even now threatening to grow in the pit of his loins.

Standing there, before a woman he had longed after for so long, a decade of stealing glances and knowing smiles, his mind raced over the past ten years. His mind recollected with almost perfect clarity what had attracted him to her. Even as a young girl he had sensed something in her, a sharp keenness to accept the unknown and a fiery intellect, things that would normally be obscured to a lesser mortal he could perceive easily. As a creature of death and the unnatural a child’s innocence had always fascinated him, the way they accepted everyone for who they were, so naïve and charming. As the years passed her budding form began to hint at the sculpted woman she would become, and so he had sat in the shadows patiently as his house crumbled to dust around him, watching, waiting.

There was an uneasy pause for but a moment between the two of them, his green eyes were luminescent in the light from inside the house, he stood upon the threshold, a threshold he could not cross without her permission. Taking in the atmosphere he could sense the chemistry between them positively sizzling in the air imperceptibly. Vampires had always been possessed of charisma, charm and an unearthly ability to attract the opposite sex, yet even now he sensed something more coming from her, more that simple intoxicated attraction. How would she react to his request? All it took was for her to say no, in a single breath she could force him to leave her and he would never he able to cross the threshold. She held all the power in the world over him, it was a bitter irony. All it took was a word, a simple word, despite this he knew, deep down, she would not turn him away, could not, and that thought made him smirk inwardly to himself, he would have her, her soul would be bound and her body wanton and subservient. Davion allowed his eyes to move over her form now, eyeing her as a hawk might eye it’s prey before swooping from the morning sky and snatching it from the ground.

Preying eyes took in her form unheeding, and if he had been a man of less refined appearance one might have called his gaze lecherous. Her face was that of an angel, well proportioned and her eyes a brilliant blue hue that contrasted strikingly with her dark and ravishing hair. Her lips were full and slowly, deliberately he dragged his eyes across her elegant neck. A familiar ache and then a twinge travelled through his jaw line, his fangs sharpening of their own accord Davion had to reign his bloodlust in forcefully. Thud, thud, thud her heartbeat went, ringing in his head like the beat of a drunk, deep and seductive to his instincts he could almost see her ripe jugular pulse visibly under his gaze. Slowly his eyes moved on, down her neck and over the inclination of her breasts, full to his eyes and faint protrusions were her nipples threatened erection. Southwards his gaze moved, her flat stomach and taking in the sumptuous curves of her hips and along down her sculpted thighs and shapely calves. His eyes finished their visual feast at the milky flesh of her feet which poked out from the hem of her gown. Slowly he brought his gaze to her eyes once more, the desire apparent and burning in his eyes, his gaze groping into her soul obtrusively yet he spoke in the same unsure and stranded tone. Little did she know now, but her fate would be decided by her reply.

“Please Ms, I am unfamiliar with this area, I have nowhere else to go.”

 

[AngelicAnguish]

Heat filled her as his gaze settled upon her. The words he spoke at first did not make sense; instead she was too spellbound, staring at him like some mindless twit. Swallowing hard she forced herself to focus, repeating his words in her mind until they made sense. A carriage accident. Dreadful indeed, but could she invite this man into her home without her family here? Without anyone here?

Again she looked at him, his speech and actions showed someone troubled, and in need of assistance yet deep down in her gut she felt this was not all. Something was not as it seemed, instinct warned against him yet her eyes and mind over came such warnings. Some how her body responded to him in ways she had not experienced before, warmth filled her. Isabelle's heart thundered within her chest, he was so very beautiful.

The way he looked at her. He eyes eating her, taking in every detail. Moving under his gaze, the thin material brushed against the sensitive peaks of her breasts, teasing them and tormenting them in such a sweet way. His voice came then again, soft and in need of help. He came to her unlike other men did, wanting her assistance instead of just wanting her. And in turn, she responded to him. Wanting something she could not pin point, needing something unlike anything she had experienced before.

Self-consciously she moved her one arm across her waist, partially trying to hide herself from him. Trying to remember she was a high standing lass, that her reputation meant something to those in this village, to her parents most of all. Her mother would be appalled that she had answered the door garbed in her nightgown. Yet this did not seem to offend the man at her door, in fact, he was very well behaved, and did not know that no one else was home.

"Please Sir, come in and I shall get you something to warm you. Brandy perhaps?" She spoke quickly, a slight quiver in her voice as she stepped back, opening it to him. A mixture of dread and want rose in her. This was not what it appeared to be. Alarm bells went off in her mind, yet she ignored them.

The warmth of the house was evident the moment the door opened and allowed him entrance. It was a house filled with happiness and life. One that had not been shelter to heartless folk, but instead a true home. The rich colour of the woodwork added to the beauty and grandeur of the front entry. Everything shone and spoke of pride. To show such pride in ones home was to show pride in ones self and family.

With little more than a pause she swiftly turned and headed down a hallway. The hallway showered with tapestries and beautiful paintings, warmed by small burning sconces that gave enough light to see clearly. Isabelle’s bared feet made no noise against the wooden floors as she purposefully headed down the hall. Her heart raced, her palms had become sweaty. What she felt was fear and excitement all rolled into one.

Had he felt her lust for him? Had he seen her desire in her eyes? She did not know this man, what if he was some nefarious highwayman hell bent on claiming her for a prize, or robbing her house. Mentally she berated herself for not acting in a more controlled way, for not shutting the door and turning him away like any smart lass would do.

So caught up in her self-beration she now found herself standing in her father’s study, the liqueur cabinet before her. Crystal decanters held all types of liquor. Several of which she had tasted but found them all disgusting. Yet she would try to come off as controlled, as a lady of the house instead of how she felt. Pouring two small glasses she turned, waiting for him so she could give him a glass and drink her own.

 

[MaiusImperium]

The words were spoken and he felt the barrier before him vanish in an instant, strange that such simple words, such simple emotions could hold sway over one such as he. Glinting eyes burrowed into the back of her head as she turned to lead him into her welcoming abode. He thought on her words wryly, there were only two things that would satisfy his thirst for her, one was the delectable moans he would draw from her body and the second…well, it was a liquid but it was not brandy. He said nothing to her as watched her, for her sake he would maintain the façade a while longer.

The uncertainty in her tone made him squirm with perverse delight, indeed her mind was sharp, he could tell so much from her tone and her body language. It was a powerful feeling, to know that she knew there was something odd about him, that she should not have so thoughtlessly invited him into her house, and yet she had, unable to resist him.

Inwardly his amusement and pleasure increased, satisfaction and arrogance seemed to ooze from every facet of him as he followed her, his feet carrying him smoothly with a grace becoming of his lithe frame. As stepped into the hallway the wave of warmth hit him, washing over him in warm waves. Pausing for a moment in the doorway he allowed his eyes to take in the surroundings, a quiet, wistful sigh escaped his lips.

For a moment, a sensation almost forgotten to him coursed in the depths of his cold being, a sense of…was it nostalgia? Or…regret? The hallway was glowing and warm, brightly lit by well-appointed oil lamps. Colourful tapestries and majestic paintings flanked each wall. Shaking such mortal notions from his mind he followed after her like a bloodhound ravenous for the taste of hare between it’s gnashing jaws.

As he followed her his thoughts drifted back to his own past, this house, warm and very much inhabited reminded him of how the Vercetti Estate had once been and he could feel the memory pull at his heartstrings with a mournful twinge. A sense of resolution pervaded him for a moment, the Estate would be like this place once more, all in good time.

It was not long before the two of them came to a stop, they were now in a study. Again Davion surveyed his surroundings, taking in the smell of the place. For all his power, his abilities, his looks, his charms, his delusions of grandeur there was something he would never have, something the living possessed that he did not, something he could never have. In his younger years it had driven him to fits of blind rage, unused to the novel idea that there was something he could not simply take for his own. Life. He had been a different person then, less refined, more beast than man but his sire had taught him well, more than anything it was the memory of the man who had sired him that drove him onwards.

Shaken from his reminiscing his attentions returned to the breathtaking mortal before him. As she went to the decanter he moved over to the large desk that dominated the room, he ran a pale finger along the edge, his nerve receptors taking in the smooth mahogany finish. When she returned she had two small glasses of a golden brown liquor in her hands. Walking up to her he was a different man to the fawning and hapless young man she had greeted at the door. He moved with a snake-like fluidity now, and with an arrogant swagger that would turn heads in admiration and disgust in equal number, he had got what he needed from her, her consent. And while it had been only the consent for him to enter her house, this night she would realise it had been consent for something much darker, something far more pleasurable. He fixed her with a penetrating gaze and spoke as he approached her.

“Such a large house for one person, surely a lady of your beauty has no need for a gaggle of attendants. Tell me.” He paused, taking the glass offered to him and sipping on the burning liquid. “Who else would live here? Surely they are not in the house now, for you would have introduced me to them as is the etiquette. Your elders perhaps? Or a husband?...a lover?” His tone became slightly deeper and more intense as his suggestive line of inquiry came to an end. The two of them stood there for a moment, he could feel the knot of confused emotions swirling about in this pretty thing’s fragile mind and it all added to the thrill.

The pause lingered, became an uncomfortable silence as his eyes pinned down, transfixing green irises, which, if one looked hard enough, seemed to swirl, dilate and warp unnaturally. He was standing close to her now, much closer than was proper, his own chest dangerously close to brushing against the ample mounds of her breasts.

“You are not drinking, do not abstain on my account my dear, here.” His hand reached out to hers and he clasped his hand about hers, still clutching her glass. The air was still in the room, only punctuated by the rhythmic tick-tock of an antiquated wooden grandfather clock at stood up against a wall, bearing witness to the outrageous advances of this stranger. Gently, languorously he guided her glass to her full, ruby lips, the cool rim of the glass came into contact with her bottom lip and he tilted the glass ever so slightly, watching with a pleased smile on his lips as she accepted the liquor without resistance. A rogue droplet escaped her mouth and coursed it’s way down her chin.

“Oh, look what I’ve done, how clumsy of me.” He downed the remainder of his own brandy and set his glass down on the desk, his now free hand moved to her mouth to intercept the escaping dribble of brandy. Slowly his finger, as light and delicate as a feather traced back along the course of the droplet, her skin deliciously pliable under his touch. Wiping the residue from her skin his finger came to her bottom lip and lingered there on her silky smooth lip for an impossibly long time before he pulled his finger away and released his hold of her other hand.

“What is your name?” She did not know it yet, but he already knew. He had won.

 

[AngelicAnguish]

Watching him, she trembled as he spoke. When he started to walk towards her she almost took a step away from him. Only her strength of will held her in spot. Never would she cower like some timid creature. Yet the change that had occurred before her very eyes was one of sheer amazement.

Gone was the simpering young man whose carriage had overturned, and in his spot was this self-assured creature. Creature was what she thought, handsome though he was, this transformation was something out of the pages of the tabloids that went around. A wolf in sheep’s clothing he had been.

Yet his voice, it was like silk of steel, soft and sensual while containing the strength he clearly displayed. The confidence that filled the room added to the undercurrent of tension and fear. How very foolish she had been to invite him into her home.

Questions though, the questions he asked took a line that would lead her to believe he knew far more about her than indicated. He was not a stranger, not some poor bloke whose carriage had broke. This was seeming like something far more sinister, but why? Was he from these parts? Certainly she would remember a face such as his, or eyes, those eyes would never be forgotten. Had he seen her before? Was that the driving factor?

The reality though that he knew she was alone came crashing down around her, the fear that had curled in her belly before bloomed into full panic. She was too stunned to move, to shocked to speak, and for once in her life stood silently in place. Having the place to him meant, she was completely and utterly at his mercy.

The steadying tick-tock of the clock was her focal point, she allowed herself to stop thinking of what was happening and instead listened to the familiar clock. Throughout her life it had filled each day with sound. The ringing of dinner, the sounding of important times, always it remained faithful. Certainly it would not fail her now, using it as a focal point she calmed herself down, pushing the fear further and further down and allowing her mind to think more clearly.

Then the coolness of the glass touched her lips, the warmth of the brandy burned it's way down her throat as she drank it instead of choking on it. Having not paid attention to this she was caught off guard, yet the warmth that slid down her throat and into her belly would warm her and provide her a bit of calm.

As his finger touched her skin she shivered, the coolness of his flesh against the heat of her lip was strong. His finger remained there, a moment too long. Like every other man in her life he felt lust for her, the realisation came to her. Perhaps this would be something she could use. Having men lust after her was something she was familiar with and always had control over.

Name? He wanted to know her name. For a brief moment she thought of lying to him, of telling him something that was untrue to see how well he did actually know her but then realized that that approach could backfire and end with her in more trouble than she initially was in.

"Isabelle." Her voice was quiet, yet soft. She did not look at him, but instead gazed down at his feet, his knees, and god help her, his groin. Yes, if he desired her she could use that to her advantage. No gentleman would take advantage of a young lady. Her mind clearly forgetting that no gentleman would be behaving as he was now.

"And yours?" Again she spoke softly, though her voice gained a bit of courage in it as she lifted her head higher. Finally bright blue eyes settled on his strange green ones. A silent challenge filled her eyes, daring him to lie to her since she had been honest with him.

 

[MaiusImperium]

“Isabelle.” The name rolled off his tongue slowly, he rolled the name about his mouth as a man might indulge in a fine wine, all his voyeuristic encounters came back to life in his mind now, he had a name to pin to her face. “Such a pretty name.”

The desire, an endearingly confused and innocent desire, oozed off her body and in turn fed his own, he felt the need to take her, to drink from her, rise up inside of him like a slowly fulminating storm. It was both a blessing and a curse, his damnation and salvation all wrapped into one, the vampyric double-edged sword that was his bloodlust. Even he was simply a slave to it. Yet there was more to do this night, more patience was required.

There was an uneasy silence as her gaze remained on his body for a little longer than it should have, her eyes unable to resist taking in his lower regions. hen he regained eye contact he gave her a knowing smile that spoke far louder than words and would have made the skin of any decent-minded lady crawl.

Waiting patiently he watched her regain some of her control, he should not have been surprised, he knew she was a strong young woman, yet he had known a score of women he had taken in the past who would already crumbled and agreed to anything he asked of them by now. She would be a challenge but he was determined to have her, the woman he chose would need to be strong for the things he intended for her. Her eyes met his levelly, defiant shining through them and she shot his own question back at him, gaze never flinching he responded.

“My name is Davion. I am a noble…of sorts.” He smiled and his eyes moved to the decanter of brandy. “You don’t mind if I…?” He did not wait for a voicing of her consent and poured himself another glass, but not before topping her own tumbler up, still in her hand. Idly his mind calculated his next move. In one fluid motion he lifted the glass to his lips and down the liquid in one smooth gulp, he felt the liquid burn warmly down his throat, undead as he was there was no sensation of warmth growing in his stomach from the liquid.

As though it had all been perfectly choreographed, there was an dazzling flash of lightning outside followed in quick succession by an almighty boom of thunder, the bass of which made the house tremor to it’s foundations. Slowly the tip-tap of raindrops falling on the windowsill began, gradually gaining in pace and volume until the rain built up to a roar as it battered itself futilely against the window. For a moment the only sounds were the ticking of the great clock and the torrent of rain outside, another flash of lightning light up the room in a brilliant white light for less than a heartbeat. Slowly his foot moved forward, he took one, purposeful step, the sound of the rain seemed to fade into oblivion in his ear. The fear pouring from her was electric.

Reaching out a hand towards her, his movements were slow and deliberate. Smoothly his fingers sifted into her hair, allowing silky locks of it between then, he ran his hand through the entire length of her tamed yet wild hair, his chest now less than an inch away from the firm protrusion of her breasts, dangerously, teasingly close to making contact. His head craned forward slightly and gently he pressed his face to the side of her face, his nose tickled gently by her hair, he inhaled audibly, the sweet scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils and he spoke, his breath dancing lightly against her earand barely a whisper.

“Oh my Isabelle, if only you knew how long have I watched you, waited for you, for this moment. Watched you grow. Long have I watched you from the shadows, watched you grow into this magnificent creature. Oh yes, I’ve watched.” His words were spoken breathily, almost fading to silence, the room seemed a lot quiet as though the sound of the clock and the storm raging outside no longer mattered, if there had been anyone else to listen in they could not have, his tone was wistful and not altogether unthreatening.

His eyes moved around the curve of her ear, his head moved with his gaze inquisitively as though he were studying her, his lips almost brushing across her ear, his whole body seemed pressed against her yet managed to remain out of contact. Finally he moved a step away from her, eyes inquiring, gauging her reaction. He had prodded and probed, plied her with his voice. Try as he might to convince himself of his own superiority, he wondered, would she react to him or would she melt?

 

[AngelicAnguish]

The voice filled the room, his voice, captivating and mysterious. Dark and Sensual. How was it that his voice could bring to mind such feeling within her? As he complimented her name she thought she would melt at his feet, all the while still filled with fear of him.

Yet she would not let him win, she would not cower in her own house no matter how intimidating this may be. How foolish she had been to allow this man in, let alone to answer the door. When he spoke his name, she was momentarily captivated.

It was as though the night outside understood what was happening within this room, the storm clouds rumbled and groaned, before filling the sky with brilliant light and the loud crack of thunder. Davion. A different name, a powerful name, it was as though the thunder had punctuated it, clarified it.

As he approached her, his body so close she was certain she should feel the heat from him yet strangely did not. The presence of him near her was felt, but not the warmth of closeness. His words, whispered against her ear, spoken against her skin, sent shivers through her. Such words warmed her and scared her.

He had watched her, was this her guardian angel? Was he the eyes in the night? Is that why she felt as though she knew him? If he had watched for this long and never touched her, never approached her... why now? What was he waiting for? What did tonight hold in store? All these questions flew through her mind, many much too fast for her to even acknowledge let alone think about.

Lifting the brandy to her lips she belted it back, the heat of it searing down her throat reminding her of what was happening. There was a man in her fathers study with her, one who had just told her how he had watched her. One who evidently knew far more about her than she did him.

"Why watch me? What purpose would that serve you Mr. Davion?" She spoke softly, her voice waivering slightly with her fear but mainly spoke of her confidence, her courage, she did not melt at his feet nor did she react like some simpering girl and faint at his feet. Instead she met his gaze steady. The heat in her eyes evident, the flush filling her face clear as the brandy started to warm her up and relax her.

 

[MaiusImperium]

Her words fell on his ears and he wanted to laugh, the smile that seemed ever-constant on his face simply widened slightly. Mortals were such interesting, such amusing play things, you could pull on their emotional strings, tweak and manipulate them and you never be sure of how they would react. Her spirit was apparent, yet she had not mustered the volition to expel him, pick up the nearest heavy object and throw it at him, nor had she screamed out into the dead night air. Taking her tumbler from her, he placed it and his own on the desk and brought his lips to her ear, whispering seductively in her ear.

“What…purpose, you ask. Well my dear, sweet, innocent Isabelle, perhaps I should show you.” It all seemed to happen in slow motion, yet he was upon her within the blink of an eye. Taking a small step forward his body was against hers, his firm pectorals pressing against her full and vibrant bosom. Such was the implacable force of his movement that she quickly found herself pressed against the desk behind her, her back arching back slightly as her lower body had no more room to back into. His arms folded around her, like the enveloping claws of a hawk around it’s prey. The lightning crackled and the thunder boomed as his lips met hers, his face pressed fervently to her own. Almost instantly his lips seemed to melt into hers. It was a kiss far more intimate that it should have been, his right hand cupped the curve of her buttock while his left cradled the small of her back. His tong errantly probed her, exploring deep into the recess of her mouth and dancing with her own struggling tongue. His hands explored her as though they were lovers years acquainted, yet under his onslaught she was helpless.

There were precious few mortals that could mentally challenge a vampire, resist their seductive charms, but the futility of it would always become apparent, what vampire couldn’t get with words, it could most certainly take by force if it wished. Her flesh was resistant under the pressure he applied to her, he felt her muscles and sinew struggle half-heartedly, felt her hands try and push him away from her all in vain and it made her all the more delicious to him. Already her heart was beating in his ears like a marching drum, it’s rhythm seductive, almost maddening to him, it took him almost by surprise, so strong was his feeling of hunger for her.

A blissful eternity seemed to have passed before his lips finally released hers, he pulled back and his eyes bored into hers, pulling her very soul out before him for close examination.

“You are precious Isabelle, more precious that you know, than you can comprehend. All your life I have waited for this moment. Oh Isabelle, such wants I have, such pleasures do I have to show you. There are so many things I can show you, more than you thought possible.” His words were fevered, and where his words had been cold and calculated there were inflected with real emotion and fevered lust, his breath was hot on her lips, his complexion seemed to have come to life almost instantly and his eyes burned with passion. Again he forced himself upon her, he could feel the unease, the tension in her flesh but he simply smiled inwardly, his hands seemed to be everywhere on her at the same time, along the length of her thighs and up over her hips, his hand cupped her breast firmly as their tongues meant once again, lashing against each other once more. He didn’t leave her time to object. His arms lifted her easily, sweeping her effortlessly off her feet. Cradling her close, she was completely under his spell now, drugged by his very aura, she had crossed the threshold and there was no salvation for her now.

His motions were slow, measured, graceful, almost wraith-like as he led her to her very own chambers private chambers, intuitively knowing the way. He lay her down on the deep and cushioned mattress and knelt by her bedside, gazing down into her eyes, his own shone iridescently in the pale moonlight. Snake-like he clambered onto the bed, his weight hovering above her, his presence suffocating all else to her as he gazed deep into her eyes.

 

[AngelicAnguish]

Bitter sweet torture, his passionate kisses and heated touches against her skin bought forth a wave of emotions and wants she had never felt so strongly before. Hungrily she met his kisses with her own, her tongue following his lead and exploring his mouth in turn. The brandy had boldened her, making her act on her own desires.

It all blurred as he continued to kiss her, touch her and warm her in ways unimagined. Then as if by magic she realized they had come to her room. Intently she watched her dark guardian climb into her bed with her, his presence consuming her. It drew her closer to him, like a moth to the flame she could not help but reach out a hand that trembled.

Every so lightly she touched his shirt, feeling the coolness of his flesh below her finger tips. Softly she ran them over his chest, exploring him until she discovered his nipples. Fasination filled her and she drew her finger tips around one slowly, not touching it until the very end. Then she drew her hand across his chest to the other nipple and did the same thing. Licking her lips, she imagined what it would be like to touch his bare skin, to press her lips to his breast and tease each tight nipple with her lips and tongue.

Moving her hands to his hair she could not help but touch it, run her fingers into it and pull him closer. She wanted him to kiss her again. Her lips parted slightly, and she quietly moaned as she imagined his lips on hers hoping he would kiss her like he had again.

"Please" A whispered plea escaped her lips, her eyes watching him, the pupils clearly dilated with desire and the slight touch of intoxication. His presence alone was intoxicating, add to that the brandy and the heedy rush of arousal and she was done for. Nothing in her could withstand the desire that was mounting.

The heat started deep within, she could feel herself wet for him. Some back part of her mind knew this was wrong, knew that this strange man should not be in her bedchamber much less on her bed and knew that she should not be begging for his attention or wanting him like she did. Yet that part was drowned out by every other fiber of her being.

He would hold the salvation to this hunger started within her body, he was the key. She knew it as firmly as she knew her name. The hunger was for him, he would feed it. How she wanted it to be now.

 

[MaiusImperium]

*uses phoenix down*

Dark green eyes glinted darkly in the pale moonlight as it cascaded through the large window, he regarded her, his eyes burrowing into hers, and behind those brilliant blue eyes of hers he could see within the workings of her mind. He watched on silently for a moment, he could feel her mind open like the petals of a delicate flower, he saw new vistas of depravity, of hidden lust open before her, ones he had known for centuries were beginning to foment in her young mind now. Looking down upon her young, vulnerable and completely delectable body, her fevered plea reached his ears and a wicked grin began to form on his lips. He had won, all there was left to do now was to indulge in his prize, his Isabelle.

Slowly he lowered his face to hers, his nose brushed against the side of her own. Their lips met as they had before, his firm and insistent and hers yielding like soft downy pillows, his tongue probed earnestly past her lips and into her mouth, slowly raking across her pristine teeth, against her own tongue. He explored and coaxed every recess of her mouth, but took his time, his tongue moved languidly and smoothly, her body deliciously warm to the touch. The mortal fire within her body slowly warmed his unearthly flesh. The scent of her arousal was thick in the air, brazen and obvious now, sweet and seductive to his senses, he could hear, feel, the blood rushing about her body frantically.

It was such an intoxicating siren’s song to him, he had forgotten what it was like, it had been many years since he had fed from a mortal in such a manner and it took all his willpower to stay himself from devouring her completely. That time would come soon enough for him.

She was so sweet to his lips, such a thin layer of skin separating his appetite from her rich blood, for a vampire to kiss someone was a heady form of torture and Davion could feel even his will eroding slowly to the beastly thirst that was crying for its slaking within him. The kiss seemed to last forever, every second seemed to span for a day before he broke away. Immediately he missed the softness of her lips on his, yet there was much more of her body to explore; so much untouched flesh to experience.

Straddling her, her silk slip parted with a soft tearing sound between his fingers, peeling away to reveal the carnal treasure beneath. Before him was his prize, now completely unbridled, free of her modest trappings, there was nothing to separate him from the wanton young thing that lay sprawled before him. Her sex glinted salaciously in the quicksilver moonlight ‘neath her pubic thatch and her breasts stood pertly to attention. It did not take long for him to divest himself of his own attire, his shirt fell away from his willowy frame softly and his britches pooled at his knees.

Hungrily he allowed his hands to slip over the firm ample mounds of her bosom, fingers spread to encapsulate the crown of each breast, her nipples hard and brushing against his palms. And there he left them resting for a while, not moving, squeezing so lightly, imperceptibly, his eyes lost in a trance as he felt her delicate body rise and fall with her breathing, the thumping of her heart resonating through his hands and up his arms.

It was easy to lose himself in those minor movements, to become entranced by the rhythm of her life force. His manhood stood erect and proud, gazing a moment to sample her virgin flesh one last time he took in a breath and plunged into her. His naked body swept forward and down onto her own, in one fluid stroke his manhood parted the silken folds of her sex and broke her maidenhead swiftly and unnaturally painlessly, his arms snaked around her shoulders and held her prone body against his, her bosom pressed to his chest, their bodies melding into one entity, a tangle of arms and legs as he claimed her, body and soul.

 

[AngelicAnguish]

A cry caught in her throat as his body invaded hers, claiming her in such a way that she could not even being to imagine. For a moment her eyes widened as she looked at him, clarity flashing in their depths. This was more... but what.

That clarity vanished as her body responded to him. His madden touches had driven her to the brink, she was wanton for him. Sheer pleasure exploded through her, her skin flushing as her sex clenched him. So close, these thing she strove for remained just out of reach.

Her virgins blood tainted the air, mixing with the fine spice of their sex. Overpowering. Panting she could almost taste them on the air.

"Oh..." she gasped, holding onto him and drawing her nails down the plain of his back. The muscles below her fingers a sign of the power he held in check.

"This is... " She panted in between, her words not forming in her head, her mind not focused on more than what he was doing to her.

Wrong. That one word made her freeze against him, the desire her body craved and the power of her mind warred against one another. Each demanding their own satisfaction. Wrong.

No words came out but all her movement stopped, it seemed even as if her heart stopped beating within the confines of her chest. Everything stilled, waiting... yet wanting.

 

[MaiusImperium]

The feel of her body submitting under his own was exquisite, he could sense every curve of her flesh, every tendon and muscle in her body twitch, loosen and tighten beneath his manhood. He began a slow but steady motion, slowly driving the full length of his girth into her tight, slick channel before gradually withdrawing, over and over again the muscles of his buttocks, of his thighs tightened and flexed with each powerful stroke. Slowly he drove himself towards climax, slowly but inexorably.

He was in no rush, there was no need to claim her quickly and be off, this moment was special. The moment was special because he had watched her all his life, quietly and patiently from the shadows, he had watched with a genuine smile on his lips the way the young girl would play in the garden and chase imaginary fairies through the grass. He had watched with anger and concern when her parents had beaten her for misbehaving. He had watched with a burning jealousy as she got older and began courting young amorous men. And now he had her in his grasp, squirming beneath his cock. He could scarcely believe it.

Her hazy words, the frantic rise and fall of her breasts, her glazed eyes, they all sung to him, told him that she was his and his alone, now and forever.

“My Isabelle.” His voice was little more than a breathy whisper as he bent low over her prone flesh, he pressed his face to her ample bosom and nuzzled his face there. The beat of her heart continued it’s relentless drumming, hypnotising him, soothing him. He purred oddly into her chest as he kissed the soft underside of her breasts and gradually worked his way over her mounts. He paused for a moment over her nipples, pulling the taught tips between his lips and grazing them teasingly with his teeth. All the while his taking of her did not slow or stop, he continued to drive his slick, warm member into her tight cleft, the scent of her virginal blood heady on the air.

“Isabelle.” His right hand came up over her breast, his wrist twisted and the hand pressed against her left cheek. His hand cocked her head to the side, completely baring her neck and that tender jugular, he could almost see it beating under the thin layer of flesh enticingly.

“You are mine.” He craned down to her tender, warm neck and pressed his lips to the soft skin. Canines sharpened unnaturally and sank into her softness like hot metal through butter. He could smell the fear, the tinge of pain in her, and as his mouth was greeted with the powerful flow of her blood he felt his manhood twitch and explode deep inside her. He sucked at her neck hungrily, drinking her life, her very essence as he emptied his seed into her womb.