When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi & Mordred)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Mordred on 27-03-2012, 01:23:02</h2>
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				Title: <strong>When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>27-03-2012, 01:23:02</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i1208.photobucket.com/albums/cc365/Medrau_Pendraeg/mch4.jpg)</div>In a small cabin deep in a dark wood, he sat in a chair, smelling a small flower. Smell had always been his favorite of the common senses. Smell told one things.. that lurked deep within. It held the truth, always. Smell could never be fooled. It combined what all the other senses held, and spoke in it's own wonderful ancient way. Once this primal tongue was learned, there was nowhere to hide. The truth simply was.<br><br>Yet as always happened, as he always secretly hoped against hope would be different this one time.. the small bundle of silky petals lost it's power. As he did with everything, this thing of organic fibers became drained of what made it special. The mild intoxicants now soaked into the pores of his greedy lungs. They were, as every other organ and cell within his body, insatiable. Horrifically so.<br><br>Without thinking, the flower was pushed inside his lips, chewed, then swallowed. There was still a small amount of usefulness that his body would rip from the molecules and devour. This small gesture, the final move that took the object of his focus forever into being part of himself, always resulted in a deep inner growl. Anger. Intense rage.. that his focus was now without a target.<br><br>The man who called himself Malcolm Brown stood from the chair and scanned the one small room that made up the small cabin in the dark wood. It had been his sanctuary for as long as he could remember, which was a very, very long time. Only he, his chair, and the items of his focus had ever been within it's small space. The man who called himself Malcolm Brown, dressed immaculately in a fine tailored suit and imported Italian shoes dropped to all fours and howled such a bloodcurdling sound, the surrounding land vacated of any creatures with any sense of fear. Fear was another sense he truly loved. It had such a decadent way of wrapping around the other senses. The common and the not so common.<br><br>After letting out this release of rage, a wave of calm rippled through his every pore. Standing, he brushed his knees clean, straightened his jacket, and quickly parted the small cabin deep in the dark wood. Focus has been realigned. It was finally time to pursue the object he had been waiting for.. for what now seemed an eternity. She was now ready. Ripe for the taking. Perfectly pulsating and luscious in every way possible. Yes, the man who called himself Malcolm Brown was ready to claim his new object. She was ready.
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				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JuliettaRossi</strong> on <strong>27-03-2012, 05:05:30</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e4/LittleRed2.jpg)</div><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Victoria woke that day but she didn’t feel any different. She was now twenty-four years old…<br><br>Slipping from under the covers, her bare feet hit the floor, taking her into the adjoining bathroom for a shower. She needed something to wake her up so she could actually make it through work and classes tonight. The hot water coming through the old pipes in the building were like fingers caressing over her skin, waking her from her dreams finally. She had the dream again…it was vivid last night. Different than before - in color this time, depth coming through in this version. It made it tangible. She put a hand flat against the shower wall and let the water flow over her body, soaking her long dark hair, molding it to her shoulders, her back. The shower made her feel human again after the dream…<br><br>Half an hour later she was out of the shower, out of the bathroom, dressing for her day. She had the slow morning shift at the bar. It was mostly prep time for the evening. Evening shifts earned more money. The daytime was for the businessmen who came in for their liquid lunches – their working meals. Attitude adjustment for dealing with heavy-worded bosses. A silky blouse, a black skirt, black high heels. The businessmen liked&nbsp; women in tight outfits, short skirts. Her attire differed from her evening work wear quite a bit. This was a subtle look. Long hair down, simple pearl studs, a thin silver necklace and matching bracelet. All the jewelry had been her mother’s. A cup of coffee and she would be ready to go off to work.<br><br>The morning passed uneventfully. No one at work knew it was her birthday. She preferred no one to know. She didn’t care for the foolish celebration of people who were simply acquaintances, the pressure of gifts, cakes, thanking people. Maybe it didn’t seem like much pressure, but to her, it was. Victoria wasn’t much of a…’people person.’ She played it off as much as possible as work. Night shift in the bar was much easier. She was able to insult the ruder customers and blow off the drunk ones who hit on her. She had no interest in men in the bar – whether they were businessmen with thick wallets or party boys in to try the newest fad vodka. She flirted with their money. She had bills to pay. <br><br>Back at home she only had a short time before school. Another shower – to wash the stench of alcohol from her skin – a clumsy man spilling his beer on her during the lunch rush had her blouse and side of her skirt soaked. She smelled like a brewery. Her hair smelled like smoke. <br><br>She got out of the shower once again, slipping into jeans and a red shirt. It set off her dark hair. The jewelry from earlier switched for something more…her – silver jewelry, a little less sedate than earlier – a hammered cuff, a crystal her mother gave her hanging from a satin cord. She didn’t wear earrings, but instead a delicate silver cuff with a garnet in it. She pulled up her hair, back into a ponytail, the ends reaching down to mid-back.<br><br>Grabbing her bag, the small toolbox and her portfolio she headed out. Tonight was her favorite class…art class. Figure drawing and painting. The toolbox held a variety of items – charcoals of all varieties, pastels, chamois, smudge sticks conte crayons, fine line pens, a few watercolor pencils and a couple tubes of oils and some paint brushes. Their instructor was sought after. His classes always filled up quickly and she was lucky she was able to get in with her late registration date. <br><br>She walked into class and took her seat her easel, perching on the stool, placing the toolbox atop the table next to it. She opened it to get out what she would need for this evening’s class, attaching the large pad of paper from the portfolio to the hard board set up on the easel. She played with one of her last pieces she did in class - a woman dancing in the middle of flames. She had an affinity for fire. She could never really explain it. Sometimes she dreamt of it, licking at her skin, surrounding her. It never hurt. She never screamed of cried out in her dreams. The woman she drew in charcoal - she was very detailed especially since they had a model that evening and she was very pretty - the vision from her dream simply flowing onto the paper it seemed. By the end of class her hands had been coated in the smudgy black dust all the way to her elbows, smudges and flecks on her face and clothing. She felt as if only minutes had past, but it ate up the full two hours of class and she still didn't feel finished. Today she played with it a bit more, rubbing the chamois along the lines, softening the harshness of it into more of a dreamy look. She wondered if the black and white was too stark...perhaps this weekend she would play with another version - one in pastels - to give it more of a fiery appearance...get the flames just right...<br></span></span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>30-03-2012, 03:06:51</strong>
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				Walking down the hallway towards his class, Malcolm took a deep breath. A breath so deep, the heart inside him almost had to beat, but didn't. It hadn't beat for so long, he forgot what it felt like. At times he wondered if it had ever actually done that very basic human function. Memory faintly told him yes, but it seemed more a fantasy than any true action. Yet in that deep breath, her scent filled two ravenous lungs. She was already within this building. Seated, if his perception of that delicious pulse was any indication. Denim hugged her skin, along with a thin fabric. And so many other wonderful little details that both masked her flow but also caressed it in such a way, his thirst for her soared.<br><br>As he turned a corner towards his classroom, he embraced a calming mood. He had, after all, seen young Victoria many times. Had even spoken to her various times throughout her life. Waiting, always waiting for this time that has finally arrived. In fact, this very day of her twenty-fourth birthday. Today, many doorways opened up for her and for him.<br><br>Entering the room, Malcolm headed towards the back, where the shadows seemed to congregate perfectly to keep him almost unseen. This was also the perfect vantage point to send his influence into the aspiring artists. He really knew little of art, but somehow his ability to tap into the students imagination caused their creative juices to flow. It also usually caused quite an infatuation to form for their instructor.<br><br>On the board he had earlier listed out the tasks to complete. He would usually circle slowly through the room, giving bits of advice, praise, and comments. Here is where the students would truly absorb his sending vibes. It was a give and take process for he would also be soaking in their energy.<br><br>What was wildly different this evening was the addition of his newest student. Approaching from behind where she was selecting various items from her toolbox, Malcolm lowered to a knee extending a hand towards hers. "Umm, Victoria Carmine, yes?" Smiling, her energy hit him like a blast of intense warmth. On the outside, his friendly smile was casual to the point of him seeming almost too relaxed. Inside, a torrent of soaring sensations as her close proximity always effected him intensely, multiplied by this special day. "I'm glad you were able to join my class. Your portfolio is quite impressive. In fact, I was instantly quite excited when I saw your work. I know with a few of my soft guidings, your talent will blossom exceptionally."
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				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JuliettaRossi</strong> on <strong>30-03-2012, 08:36:37</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">She felt…something when she heard the door open. Something that caused her to glance from her work toward the direction of the door, but with all the easels, students standing or sitting atop high stools, she couldn’t see who entered the class. She breathed in deeply and made herself focus, unclipping her pad of paper from the easel board, flipping the sheet to a new, blank canvas and reclipping it so she could begin on the assignment on the board. Time to break out the conte crayons. They would be working with the soft sticks and she chose the blue color out of all of them. It felt somehow better in her hand for what was in her head. She stopped a moment, the thin art stick in her fingers before staring on her project for the evening. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that came over her when the door opened though…she wondered who it was that came in idly, the thought nagging at the back of her mind.<br><br>This was the third evening of class she had with Mr. Brown. He had never really acknowledged her before besides the random ‘Yes, very good.’ Or ‘Nice lines…well done.’ before moving along. Tonight as he circled the room she felt a tingling of sorts…it didn’t hurt and she couldn’t really pin point where she felt it or why. It was a soft feeling, not unpleasant actually – she imagined it was much like the hum of electricity through a power line. The feeling in her grew until their teacher was beside her, his hand outstretched in the short distance between them for her to shake as he spoke her name in that low voice.<br><br>She watched the girls in the class practically swoon it seemed when he talked. She heard whispers of him on campus but never gave them much merit – just girls trying to embellish a fantasy – make it seem real as they gossiped. From the first day she met him three weeks ago she had this memory it seemed…She thought she remembered him from somewhere else, but that couldn’t be. Maybe a passing glance in a grocery store, in passing through the quad on campus during the day, perhaps even a picture…maybe. She had never had his class before this – it was always too hard to get into. She settled for one of the other art teachers during the morning classes. He was familiar somehow – like the touch of a cat’s fur. You know it will be soft, even though you’ve never petted this cat…your experience, your memory tells you the touch will be soft. The same with the burn of alcohol. You may never have tried this one kind, but you know it will burn going down. It’s experience bleeding through.<br><br>When she turned toward him she flashed on part of a dream she had – one that reoccurred. They always reoccurred though. She would go for months dreaming the same things, but never able to remember anything but the most vivid or painful parts of them. He was like a jolt to her mind telling her to remember something that was vitally important but you simply couldn’t put your finger on it. A soft smile tilted her lips as he spoke. He didn’t speak like people did…There were no shortcuts, no slang. It had an elegant sort of touch to it. It flowed over you…melted over your skin and into your ears. She nodded when he said her name and was surprised he had taken notice of any of her work. The college often selected works to be displayed in an on campus gallery – small, but still, it was a showing. She wondered what he had seen – what he liked. Maybe he was more the proactive teacher – culling students from other teachers – looking through her final portfolio perhaps from her last teacher. They had to turn in everything at the end of the term for the teachers to go over – give an honest overall grade and evaluation. <br><br>“Thank you…I’ve looked forward to your class for some time now. It’s quite hard to get into…” As if she needed to tell him that. He knew he had a packed class every semester. Mostly girls it seemed. There were a few guys who got in as well. She knew their work from other classes and the gallery showings. It wasn’t so big a school that you didn’t see the same artist over and over when they were good.<br><br>She breathed in deeply, she felt almost short of breath near him. She itched to get back to her drawing. Another dream…the one from last night…She had already started on some of the lines – the deep blue coming off the page as she tried to translate the somewhat fuzzy picture in her head onto the paper. By the end of class though she would have gone through three pages of sketches before the dream finally solidified enough for her to get it out of her mind. She mixed in the use of gray and white and black conte as well - the image of tall trees, darkness and a wolf staring out at her emerging as the class came to an end. <br></span></span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>05-04-2012, 00:46:31</strong>
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				It was natural for him to feel a strong wave of energy from groups of people. The more living creatures, the more intense it was. In time, those he absorbed this energy from would start to weaken. Nothing damaging, just a depletion of the source that fed life. Nothing a few hours of sleep, sun, and food wouldn't replenish. As long as there was a pause. If Malcolm remained near a lifeform for too long, he would drain it completely. The spark of life inside would dwindle to a trickle, wither, and die.<br><br>The classroom full of students was humming with this energy. With the right light, Malcolm would actually be able to see the soft glow in the air, like a fuzzy spider web that had him at it’s center. Being the destination of the flowing energy, it was always him at the center. Yet as powerful as the flows were in their combined mass.. her flow was stronger by leaps and bounds. Her energy was to these other pathetic creatures as the blazing sun to a dimly lit candle. There was really no comparison. Being so close to Victoria, now that she finally entered this new stage in her life, Malcolm realized never would there pass enough time for him to drain her. She was a living, breathing source of unlimited energy.<br><br>Smiling at her words, he leaned closer. In a low, almost growling sound, “I’d have shuffled the class in any way to make sure you got in, Miss Carmine. I’ve been a fan of your rising progress for some time now.” Which, was true. He’d been observing her growth since before she exited the womb. In some ways, even long before even that.<br><br>In the mere moments that passed, he soaked in every detail that sat so near. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Skin he could happily touch with a light caress for hours on end. Eyes that spoke to him of the hidden depths that hummed so powerfully. The fact that she felt a peer of these other simpler lives surrounding them was laughable. She had no idea of what lurked inside every vibrant cell and pore. Her scent, so near, could have alone wrapped around his senses to let him die a joyful death. If his death were even truly possible. Layers of succulent levels.. yet at it’s center, the pulsating desire that lurked between Victoria’s legs. Heavenly textures he’d nearly lost his mind in desiring. Desiring to penetrate, taste, pleasure, control, feel, wrap himself within. Flesh.. and blood. Ah yes, then there was this gorgeous creature’s blood. The song of sweet seduction that could have lured him back into the air even from miles beneath the ground.<br><br>For the last few years as he waited for this time to finally arrive, along with the rising of her energy, he was aware of the blood that coursed inside Victoria’s veins. Just the mere thought of her crimson nectar lured the fangs out from their dormant state. Forcing them to remain calm, Malcolm placed his hand gently on hers. Blasted by waves of sensation he’d later delve through and decipher, he spoke again for her ears only. “Some time when you are free, I’d love to have you.. for a while. Perhaps have a coffee together.” Fingers lightly squeezed around hers. “I can see the passion for art in your eyes. I cannot properly describe how enjoyable it would be to hear what drives you in this way.”<br><br>Almost losing his control, the desire to feel her lips with his own, he quickly stood. As if on cue, a few rows away, a student beckoned his attention. Eyes remaining on Victoria’s, Malcolm smiled, slowly moving along.
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				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JuliettaRossi</strong> on <strong>05-04-2012, 21:38:38</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">She was acutely aware of his presence, of his close proximity to her. When he leaned in – that voice, his voice, made her breath catch in her throat. Her eyes closed as she felt the caress of that deep voice, feeling it settle low in her body. Her back straightened slightly, the movement bringing her closer to him slightly. Even with her eyes closed she could feel his eyes on her, making her self-conscious – knowing that the only reason her hand was not shaking was because she held the conte stick in it. <br><br>It seemed like forever her eyes were closed, when in reality it was only a moment. She opened them to find him sliding a hand over hers, her eyes moving up to his, listening to his words. She didn’t know what to say. It sounded like more than just coffee. Like the coffee was an afterthought. He looked like he could devour her where she sat. Had she only known what was going through his mind, what his body wanted from her, she may have reacted differently. Just like that though, he was gone - walking toward another student in the class. <br><br>She brought a couple fingers to her lips, they tingled lightly – like the rest of her body. The feeling had intensified the longer he stood next to her. Her body felt like it hummed. It was a good feeling that ran through her, it was somewhat sensual – made her feel as if she was being touched all over by the softest of fabrics, the lightest of fingertips, a warm breeze. She watched him walk away, her breathing a bit quicker. She didn’t get to respond to him. No yes or no to his question. She wondered at her answer. What would she say to him? Was this truly just a question of him wanting to discuss art? <br><br>She got a bottle of water out of her bag, taking a long drink, trying to relax once again – get back into the artwork. She thought about his words through the rest of class. He didn’t come back by, but she would look up – catch him looking across the room at her, even while he was working with another student. She packed up her supplies a little slower, made herself the last student left in the room. She lingered – making herself appear busy, trying to find the nerve to talk to him. <br></span></span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>29-05-2012, 05:44:52</strong>
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				Being close to her even for those few moments was energizing beyond his expectations. More than he ever thought possible, especially now that she was of the desired age. He still wasn't entirely sure what it was about this particular amount of living years.. in this particular female.. that made such a difference, yet when he became aware of her years earlier, he simply knew she was different and unique in this way. As if meant for him to find. A rare exotic flower not too unlike the one he consumed in the cabin in the woods.. yet infinitely more intense and vibrant, she was. Limitless in how she fed his need.<br><br>Going through the motions with other students, he kept his eyes on her. Every smallest shift and breath, he felt as if she whispered each detail into his soul. As she took a long drink of refreshing water, even the way her lips tightened around the bottle's top strummed along his senses in a madly teasing way. Delicious creature, he thought as a grin escaped along lips that had their own dream of brushing along her every pore, must you taunt me so? Yet he knew deep down she knew nothing. At least not in a conscious manner. For somewhere deep inside her primal core, he was certain, she could feel their connection. He saw it in her eyes. She felt the pull as he did.. even if unaware of it being anything other than simple attraction. This mutual pull drove him crazy with consuming lust.<br><br>As the students later departed, Malcolm sensed her deliberate hesitation. Just as he expected. If she had been any other way, he'd probably have lost his mind there on the spot. As she shuffled through her bag, he approached from behind. One moment, at the desk.. not even a second later, he was directly behind her, so close if she moved even in the slightest, they would touch. "Ms Carmine", he whispered more in a thought than a sound, in a way that he knew would soak into her mind and be felt rather than heard.. directly to sources inside that would feel and hear him.. in ways that would freeze her entire physical self and absorb his desire into being her desire. Not exactly hypnotism.. but the deeper cousin of that much cruder method. Words then flowed that he knew she would not recall being from him but more simply in her mind. Words that he would soon repeat more in slight nudges and suggestions but that which she would.. he was certain.. agree to. As if they were truly of her own will.<br><br>Moments later he was back at his desk. Clearing his throat loudly, Malcolm watched as Victoria seemed to recover from the exact position she held as he stood behind. "Ms Carmine.. would you like to join me for a coffee.. the best coffee you can imagine, I guarantee.. at my home?" He watched as in milliseconds the thought process shifted through her.. as blood circulated inside her luscious mind.. as her own thoughts and those he planted within combined into one entwined path. Outside the building sat his Jaguar XK.. two days old.. enhanced with special modifications that would make their drive to his place quite exceptional for them both in both sound and feeling. But for these few excruciating moments, he simply watched her.. awaiting the answer from her flawless, full lips.
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				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JuliettaRossi</strong> on <strong>03-06-2012, 19:21:31</strong>
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				Victoria remained curious but cautious - though one could argue that staying in this room with him when all others had left was not caution at all. It was leaving the lamb to slaughter. She wasn't afraid of him though. Not in the least. He was more of a curiosity in the back of her mind. She had spent time in class listening to his voice in her head, telling her he would like to have coffee with her. She thought about what she would say...it all seemed silly in her head. <br><br>Suddenly though, he was standing behind her. Not a moment before he had been looking at her from his desk. Now she could feel his body behind her, so very close if she moved, her body would be pressed against his. His voice caressed over her skin, though she was sure he did not speak...and now he asked her to come to his home for coffee. This was different. Not a coffee house where they would be among others, but his home...alone more than likely. Were the stories she heard about him true? Were these other girls, other women speaking from experience or from gossip, or just from imagination? She was used to flirting with men at work for their money, but this...this was her teacher.... His presence behind her somewhat clouded her mind. Her thinking felt...fuzzy. Her mind answered 'yes, I would," before the words would pass her lips, a mere whisper.<br><br>He was back at his desk, clearing his throat...Had she imagined it? She could still feel him standing behind her, making her skin tingle, yet there he was, sitting back in his chair, watching her again with that look that said he would enjoy making a meal out of her. Without thinking she nodded and spoke softly. "Yes....I would like that..." The instant the words left her lips she wondered at what she had done. Had she seriously just agreed to coffee at her teacher's home? She licked her lips lightly, a slightly nervous action...He said all he wanted to talk about was art though. Perhaps she was just reading too much into this. He could just be a teacher who wanted to discuss his profession and her interest, nothing more. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>11-06-2012, 03:59:06</strong>
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				Something about the word <em>yes</em> always appealed to Malcolm. Long, long before this current time.. before he had evolved into the creature he was now.. he had spent far too long observing the finer details of how sounds escaped the human lips. Most words were said with no true depth in meaning or reaction in pulse or the countless other ways a human or animal reacted. A handful of words, however, with <em>yes</em> being near the top.. had a torrent of instant reactions. Yes had a way of lingering even in the air, luring those near towards that subliminal suggestion. Yes.. it certainly did.<br><br>As he led Victoria from the classroom and towards his car, Malcolm had to strain to contain his excitement. Still the residual effects from the word he refused to replay in his mind.. lest the effect continue rippling along the shores of his mind. Finally, the crunch of gravel thwarted those last small echoes. Without thinking, his hand reached towards hers, taking it as he had dreamed of a thousand times, fingers wrapping around hers for a long, absorbing touch. One that pushed his thoughts towards feeling her in so many other ways. Ways that nearly brought him to pouncing upon here right there as she lowered into the passenger seat. Releasing her warm fingers, he smiled. Ohhhh my delicious little bird, he thought almost gleefully, finally. This was simply the first step, he had to remind himself. The first of many.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1208.photobucket.com/albums/cc365/Medrau_Pendraeg/j-xk.jpg)</div>Moments later, he slid into his own seat and closed the door.. instantly overwhelmed by the closed atmosphere of him and Victoria in the small luxury car. The advancements he had put in place caused his senses to soar, saturated with every fluctuation she sent off with breath, beat.. even her luscious warmth. The concept of arousal didn't even capture the essence of the effect on his rising need of her. Composing himself within the barest fraction of a moment, he brought the engine to purring life and sent gravel spraying. Chopin filled the air yet not too loudly. Just enough to bring pleasure to any living being. For even if not entirely human, Malcolm Brown was indeed a thing that lived. Contrary to a very small circle of popular thought, he wasn't a vampire. Not entirely. Perhaps not at all. At least not in the conventional sense.<br><br>Leaning towards his beautiful student, he smiled.. taking in a deep breath of her intoxicating scent. "I only live about 30 minutes away." This wasn't entirely true. His place was more like three hours away.. yet one of his many handy skills was manipulating the feeling of time in a tightly closed environment. Thankfully, the car they sped down the road within was just that. And then some.
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				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JuliettaRossi</strong> on <strong>14-06-2012, 09:43:10</strong>
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				The was something about the situation that made her feel like she was floating. She could feel the ground beneath her feet as he walked with him toward the car, yet she couldn't help feeling like it wasn't her that was actually doing the walking. The echo of the words she spoke still drifted through her mind. She could hear herself over and over accepting his invitation. The sound of gravel under foot invaded her hearing and the slightest of gasps from her as his fingers touched her once again, setting her into his car. Instantly she was hugged by the plushness of the interior, wrapped in the cool comfort of the seat. She realized she left behind her toolbox full of supplies, her drawing pad that had been clipped to the easel now resting against the stool where she sat earlier, the box of artist tools atop it. She had completely forgotten them...<br><br>She found herself relaxing next to him, even as he leaned close - the look on his face was one of a predator, as if he could eat in her one bite and would find pleasure licking his lips after. She's not afraid...quite the contrary. Amazingly she wants him to lean closer, has a vision in her mind of him licking her lips, kissing her, a trail of fire down her skin, over her breast. The scene causes a shuddered breath inward. She can't help but lick her lips lightly, moistening them. He turns his gaze from her with a grin to focus on the road. It's smooth, fast, but she barely notices the passage of time next to him. The scent of him, the feel of his body even this close to her - not so much heat but energy.<br><br>It seems like no time at all - the passage of scenery outside the window changing from city to wooded - more serene, less traffic, more nature. It all passes in a calm blur. She finds herself settling into the seat, turning to watch him as he drives - obviously more than comfortable with the roads, the route he is taking. The thought occurs to her - and why not? He is taking her to his home... The car was filled with the sound of music during the drive - Chopin...the Nocturnes...She recognized them. <br><br>Her eyes closed as she let the feel of the music wash over her, the movement of the car down winding roads. The music was so sweet...so beautiful. Her mind's eye flashed on Mr. Brown...but he was dressed in clothing of that period, the same music playing....dancing with a dark haired woman in a ballroom filled with people. The dresses, the men in tailored clothing, the flutter of a fan, him bowing to the girl, she could feel his grip a little tight on her white gloved hand. Her eyes opened and once again she was back in his car...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>17-06-2012, 05:11:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Being in the closed environment with her was to him like a drug. He was an ageless being that really had no true beginning, having existed in some way since time began.. and yet as deeply as he understood how energy flowed through every living entity, Malcolm found himself descending into the mystery of how vibrantly limitless Victoria seemed to flow with a wildly humming sea of intense current. Somehow, that very soaring surge of hers gives his influence many places to take hold, to send tendrils of utter relaxation into her depths. The effect, an intoxicating swirling force that pulls them both. He can feel her desire, that core truth of the innocent prey.. almost beckoning his pounce. "Yessssss", he whispers along with the sounds of piano that caress the senses, willing the lovely woman to fall deep into a tranquil state of soothing pleasure. He can just about feel his own sound enter into her, soaking into her thoughts.. where he senses visions of older times. Times back when he first became aware of this future moment that would finally deliver to him the most succulent being he would ever find. Victoria Carmine.<br><br>As their journey moved deeper into a lush forest where his newly built house sits, the Nocturnes continue to absorb into their senses, arranged in an order that perfectly coincided with the outside surroundings. Certain pieces repeated throughout the journey, yet each one began exactly as Malcolm planned, with the scenes moving outside the car windows precisely as he expected. Each time Victoria's eyes gently opened, he could feel her mind travelling along with the sounds and sights. He could feel her inhale the combined scent of his specially blended oak and pine.. along with her own delicious perfume that accentuated her skin with perfection. He wondered if she planned such an exquisitely flawless mingling or if it was simply her using instinct while being unaware of how she effected the possible predator. The latter, he guessed she.. with her truly having no idea how deliciously precious she truly was.<br><br>Soon, as they came closer to their destination, he was nearly beside himself with desire for her. He could feel her beat drumming softly, perfectly in sync with his own. His own usually moved at an exceptionally slow pattern, one of the many puzzle pieces of who and what he was and how he existed for so long, but near her he was pulled happily into an insatiable bond of pulse that teased his mind with how utterly euphoric it will eventually be to taste and feel her in every way. To penetrate her beautiful heat, feeling every fluctuation of beat, breath.. sparking neurons and the rising heat of her pleasure.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i1208.photobucket.com/albums/cc365/Medrau_Pendraeg/NightHouse.jpg)</div>Reaching over suddenly, unplanned yet unable to resist touching her, Malcolm placed his hand over hers as it rested upon a thigh. Fingers intwined through hers, sliding inside to squeeze, not painfully but solidly. Leaning closer, his awareness divided perfectly as he can see her thoughts are in a time long past.. he whispers against her lips, brushing his softly against hers, lips sliding against then softly entering into Victoria's.. sending in a deep humming sound that includes words. "Lovely Victoria Carmine, we have arrived." The car then came to a slow stop just as the last Chopin piece comes to end. Closing his eyes for a moment, Malcolm lets himself fill with a strand of energy that seems to vibrate within the air around them. Feeling her still moments from fully waking, he whispers again. "Delicious creature, I do wonder what makes you so different." Releasing her lips slowly, the soft wet sound fills the sudden silence. Reluctantly, Malcolm pulled back as he watched his student wake, keeping his hand over hers. Outside the car, the lights of his house gently grew in brightness. He always hated abrupt, blaring lights.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JuliettaRossi</strong> on <strong>21-06-2012, 09:00:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/06/Ball-Gown-Wedding-Dress-and-Bridal-Gown_copy.jpg)</div><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">She was looking outside at the streaks of green and brown as they sped toward his intended destination, letting the music flow over her, through her. She would never be able to explain to anyone why she accepted his offer, or why she would again. She never strove to try and feel powerful, but this was the closest to feeling that way she had ever had in her life. Yes, there was a certain twinge of power to be able to flirt with a man in the bar where she worked just to sneak a bit more money from his wallet. If they were weak enough to give into something as silly the appeal of a woman using a few smiles and carefully placed words, who was she to argue?&nbsp; This though...this was different. The men in the bar were not in control of the situation in the least. She could have filled their glass with tap water and they would have thanked her for the best drink they ever had - just for another smile, perhaps a tilt of her hips or glimpse of a bit more cleavage. Mr. Brown though, he had control of this - right down to the feel of his hand sliding atop hers. She was compelled to be closer, to say 'yes', but she wanted to...She liked the feel his hand on hers, the squeeze of his fingers...she wanted to feel them elsewhere too, moving over her body, slow and light, tight and heated. It was as if she was right along with them in the ballroom, watching, feeling his hands holding to the woman's, to hers as they danced, then closer, pulled tight, his mouth lowering to the soft flesh of the woman's breast, to her breast, eyes closing as her head slowly tilted back with the lightest little moan. It was all so vivid - the sound the fabric made as they moved, the smell of his skin, the heat of breath on the swell of her right breast. <br><br>As if he could hear her thoughts he was closer and she turned to him once more, finding his lips near her own. When she opened her eyes it was as if the visions she saw were etched in clouds being blown away by the reality of being able to see what was truly around her. She wanted to remember and the music was helping. When she turned her face to look at him, she could see him once again, as if a ghost, the clothing she had seen on him in the enticing scene in the ballroom, disappearing away like fog over warm water in the evening. She would have asked if she had been drugged, but she knew she hadn't taken a thing, hadn't had anything to drink or eat since before coming to class. Perhaps it was just daydreaming, her mind playing tricks on her. She didn't try to question it, just shook it from her consciousness.&nbsp; They were then brushing, pressed soft, a sensual first intimacy that she knew she would recall for many days to come. His lips did not leave hers as he whispered deep and low that they had arrived at his home.<br><br>Her breathing was a bit shaky, feeling him so close, his lips feather light but not in a questioning way...this was more of an...assertiveness. It was understanding of what was his - possessive. It was comforting while being tempting. She wanted that feel of the daydream again. They were the same lips, she could feel it...what the woman in her mind's eye felt, the voice she heard the same. Temptation wrapped in fine threads, his fingers tracing the lacings tied tight down the center of her back, the pull of her into the circle of his arms. The music stopped and the imagery floated away once more, but his lips remained, kissing her again. As he pulled away from her she felt a blush at his words, the lifting of the fog, yet she still felt bound in icy blue silk and crinoline, the tightness in her chest clear down to her hips, despite the shirt and jeans she wore. His hand still covered hers and he made no move to get out of the car. She sat beside him, unwilling to pull her hand away, but she looked up, glancing out the windshield to look at his home. It suited him, yet it didn't. Angled lines, clean, modern when he struck her as old - not in age, but in soul - the daydream (certainly that's what it had to have been, brought on by the music) had perhaps helped along that image of him. He spoke as though he had centuries of time, the pattern of his speech and the words he used echoed of times forgotten. She loved every bit of it. No one had ever called her delicious, let alone in that way. He considered her different, or was that what he said to every woman? </span></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>06-08-2012, 03:42:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As Malcolm guided Victoria towards the door, hand gently holding hers, he could feel the familiar wave of his home absorb into his depths. It was not quite as potent a feeling as the cabin in the woods, but it was still quite high. The cabin was only just a hair less powerful in this flow from his earlier home in what was now called Lithuania. That home had been more of a small cave but was his truest domain.. where he first came to be. These three places were the only ones he had ever truly felt were meant for him. Both the cabin and this home where he entered with his student had caves underneath the visible structure. In each of these caves, Malcolm Brown would always descend into the beast he truly was at his core.<br><br>As they entered the front door, more lights softly came to life. When left to his own devices, Malcolm preferred as little light as possible.. his eyes sensitive to brightness. It was why he avoided being under the sun whenever possible. Oddly though, he adored how it felt on his skin. It was as if the fibers that surrounded his flesh would crackle slightly and burn and the feeling was exquisite. The dark would always quickly heal the subtle damage instantly. Yet his eyes would always be covered by dark glasses if and when the need to move about in daylight occurred.<br><br>Closing the door, the same effect as that of the car instantly struck him. Just like his car, the house was designed with an airtight quality. The air was filtered and fresher even then that in the most natural location.. but completely closed to the outside. Victoria's energy instantly bounced upon the walls and into his very soul from all directions. He was bathed in her presence. The sensation was what to most humans would be considered wildly sexual. Oh my sweet morsel, he thought as they stood silently for a moment, you are indeed magical. Again it took all his will to not pounce in every way possible. He was craving to feel, taste, kiss.. penetrate her warmth. Feel her energy wrapped around his, blending flesh and soul.. knowing she was like a luscious fountain to drink heavily from without any end in sight.<br><br>He realized a sound was coming from his chest. A deep growling purring sound. "While in my home, Ms Carmine", he said quietly yet in the silence it seemed to boom within the acoustically perfect hallway, "I have two rules." Smiling, he stepped closer to retake her hands. Their soft warmth again challenged his desire to be a polite host. Eyes travelled down for a moment, wondering at how perfect it would feel to have her breasts against his chest, her legs tightly wrapped around his own. Another step as his hands over hers rested against her hips, gently. More intimate than he intended yet she didn't seem to mind. At least her pulse.. was more of an excitement than fear.<br><br>"First rule.. I am Malcolm. Not Mr Brown, or Professor or any other title. Malky.. heh.. if you wish.. but nothing more formal than my first name. And I shall from this moment call you Victoria. Or any other nickname you prefer. But no surnames. Agreed?"<br><br>Before she could respond, he leaned closer. Lips brushed along her soft cheek towards her ear. Closing his eyes, taken by the intense intoxication of her here in his home, her body mere threads from being against his own, he whispered, "My home is your home. Do as you wish. I mean this in every way you can possibly imagine. Explore, search, open doors and cupboards. Eat, drink, and be merry. I have an extensive pantry and the most fully stocked bar you have probably ever seen." The temptation suddenly to wrap his lips around her earlobe was overwhelming, causing Malcolm to pull back slightly. "While in these walls, from now onward and forever, my home is your home to the fullest extent. Agreed?"<br><br>Watching her beautiful eyes for reaction, he could see something in them that escaped his attention before. History. Something in her dreams.. some kind of swirling of images and past memories that left impressions and whispered to her in ways he hadn't expected. The way she breathed in the car, while floating in and out of sleep.. suddenly flooded his mind. Yes.. yessssss.. he thought. She was starting to make more sense to him. To be sure, he knew he had to visit the library down in the basement. In the cave. Soon he would.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JuliettaRossi</strong> on <strong>07-08-2012, 08:43:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Victoria walked quietly with him, her eyes scanning over everything they passed, ushered into a softly lit foyer. She looked over her shoulder to him as she heard the door close tight behind them - closing her off from the world outside. She felt her pulse pick up just slightly - he looked at her in such a curious manner as if there were shackles on him, restraining him from coming closer to her. She felt her skin prickle once more, but she didn't rub her arms nor try to hide the effect. In the daydream she had in the car, he hadn't held back with the woman in the light blue silk, the one that looked so much like her...Her thoughts of him were broken by his voice.<br><br>He took her hands in his and she once again turned to look straight at him. He didn't try to hide the fact of his gaze traveling down her body, assessing her once more and quite blatantly at that. Then he was closer, his hands on her hips, sliding over the thick material of the jeans that hugged her flesh. The sound of his voice was more than a little intoxicating to her, her chest rising a little faster with her heartbeat as it sped up slightly. No, she was not afraid of him. She hadn't been afraid of any man for a very long time...<br><br>He told her what she could call him - it would take some getting used to not to call him Mr. Brown. She settled on his full first name though. She didn't get a word out though before he had closed the space between them, stepping closer and he leaned close, closer, his lips brushing her cheek and breath on her skin, her eyes closing a moment. Her hands came up instinctively, touching his sides lightly as her head tilted to the side slightly. Being here with him was like being high, heady and tempting and dangerous. He told her his home was hers. It was such an odd thing to say - he barely knew her. Did he feel what she felt when he was close like this? He must, he had to... Why else would he say something like that to her? Those nagging words from the back of her mind trying to clear the fog and cobwebs. He was her teacher and she his student. She shouldn't be here, in his home with him so very, very close...With him telling her what was here was hers as well. The voice was quiet all of a sudden as he looked into her eyes. The question loomed - not even a question, but an acquiescence of his command more than anything. <br><br>Her thoughts drifted back to the Nocturnes and dancing and the smell of his skin and his words in her ear. "Yes...Of course, Malcolm." The words were soft and little did she know what she had just agreed to - she just knew part of her was pushing her to say yes...please say yes. We are meant to say yes... Soft lips were parted just slightly and though his hands were still at her hips, she felt like his hands already knew her body, had explored her, felt, touched, kissed and tasted her. The trail of fingertips down the line of her spine, leading down, down further...Laying on a bed of soft linens, his fingers baring her skin inch by inch from the clothing she wore, a stockinged leg raised - that childish lazy kicking of a girl getting what she desired. Toes pointed and the soft material falling back in a whisper of fabric to the backs of her knees, her thighs. Her long hair was a contrast to the sheets and her skin, inky dark against pale, exposed by the second to his eyes. </span></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>22-12-2012, 04:20:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was a wild mixture of contrasting sensations Malcolm was feeling inside the closed environment of his custom-made house. It was as if a multidimensional volume control was slowly being turned up. Each moment so very close to Victoria was both like the most intense drug-induced trip.. where he could hardly contain legible thought.. and so purely focusing in how he could feel her senses reaching out and wrapping around his own.<br><br>The temptation to simply tell her why he had taken such an interest in her was overwhelming. Ah but the idea of her thinking he wasn't also drawn towards her because of all the delicious details of what made her so precious to all the lower, human senses.. was something he couldn't do. He could feel her desire. It was a magnetic force that caressed his own probing need. A soaring positive to his deeply insatiable negative. In way, Malcolm was starting to believe they were meant to be, somehow. As if not only did the complex rules of the universe decide to gift him with such a succulent treasure, but he was as well something perfectly suited for Victoria as well.<br><br>Unable to restrain himself completely, he took the close leaning to a new level, sliding a thigh inside hers. Without physically moving, he pushed his mind into hers.. a soft brushing along the synapses.. a grinding of his will telling her in no uncertain terms that he wanted her in the most intense, intimate way.<br><br>"Victoria", he whispered without any movement of the lips, "do you wonder why I truly brought you here? Why when our eyes lock.. mmmm yes I know.. I feel.. you can sense it just like I do.. that surreal need to.. reach beyond everything you have ever felt and known?"<br><br>It was more a sliding in of his seed into her vibrant, sensual mind. Watching her eyes, which spoke through those intense swirls and flecks like none other he had ever seen, Malcolm reached into her softly.. expecting to simply gently withdraw. Yet that was easier said than done.<br><br>He could feel the echoes of the Nocturnes filling her. A snapshot of their time in the car, but more. Much more. The notes were perfect, beyond perfect.. inside her thoughts they were enhanced, evolved.. as if Frederick Chopin himself existed inside her mind and was improving what was already thought by some as the most flawless piano ever composed. He felt himself lured deeper.. so deep where colors were far brighter, so bright they seemed to jump at him like wild little forms of life.. where her own thoughts infused with the gorgeous notes.<br><br>Suddenly, he pulled free. Staring into her eyes, his lips pressed against hers. "Ms Carmine.. ummm.. Victoria.. what sort of enchantress are you, exactly?", he asked smiling. Aroused more than he had ever been in his long existence. Knowing she must feel it, maybe even on a primal level smell and completely absorb it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JuliettaRossi</strong> on <strong>02-01-2013, 04:00:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">It was the slightest of movements, the slide of his thigh between her own, the sense of how close the wall behind her was - and just how easy this all was. How much she didn't want to pull away, but then even further, <em>"Victoria, do you wonder why I truly brought you here? Why when our eyes lock.."</em> his voice inside her mind. Her eyes met his quickly, as if on cue, <em>"mmmm yes I know.. I feel.. you can sense it just like I do.."</em> His lips were not moving...Was she imagining this? Were they just words she wanted to hear? <br><br>It felt like the easiest caress, the most sensual of touches, an intimacy she couldn't hope for with anyone else. Nothing on such a level like this. Like cashmere against skin, warmth and the spark of something...more. Her eyelids felt heavier, her breathing shakier as he sought deeper within her - opening, exposing her memories, her dreams, everything that made Victoria the woman before him. The lacing of music, the past that bound them - threads unraveling and woven back together. A fleeting memory of the touch of skin against skin, of pleasure, of decadence - arching bodies and sweet cries, dancing, swirling and candlelight flickering on a canvas of creamy flesh.<br><br>Her chest felt bound tighter, her breathing a little shallower. The voice that spoke inside of her mind was silent now and she wondered still if she imagined it all, the whole time, the background felt infused with music to her. Chopin still played and they still danced, but then she was sitting beside him in a speeding car, but then reality as he pulled away - she felt it physically, a slight gasp leaving her lips.<br><br>He spoke softly against her lips, sharing space, sharing breath. "I've never been accused of such..." Her lips parted a little more, that light pressing brush of her bottom lip against his own as she whispered back - not a kiss, but that petal soft sensuality of something more in a promise, in the tone of voice. Her fingers tightened slightly on his side, gripping his shirt gently. "I feel like we have known each other for ages..." Her eyes closed and she breathed him in with the slightest of an uptilt of her lips. "You are familiar and strange to me all at the same time. As if I'm having to put together a puzzle without knowing what it will become in the end." Her eyes met his and she wanted to kiss him, wanted to touch her fingers to his face, feel his hair between her fingers - to realize that familiarity she felt clear to her core, yet she didn't. She restrained herself within just a breath.<br><br>"You asked me here for coffee Malcolm..." Her words were whispered as she caressed his cheek with her own and a turn of her lips against his jaw line. "There's more though...I can feel it through my entire body."</span></span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mordred</strong> on <strong>20-01-2013, 08:53:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her whisper absorbed into him in waves. First, the sound that traveled within the air as their lips touched. Within this bundle of sense caressing pleasure, Malcolm's mind felt her words wrap around his mind, prodding as if she were also truly aware of this humming bond between them. <em>I've waited nearly a thousand years for you</em>, he was tempted to whisper into her mind. This, however, might break the spell that seemed to be wrapping around them. Such a thought didn't need to be spoke quite yet.<br><br>He also couldn't keep Victoria completely in the dark. As easy as deception was to him, basically being the essence of who and what he was, being untruthful to her was an almost painful thought. Lips just barely still touching hers, body pressed even tighter than intended, Malcolm whispered. "There is more. There is so much more. There is an entire universe pulsating with more, I promise, than you can possibly imagine. Maybe more than I can."<br><br>Feeling that pull from her mind, again, his hands found her hips. Sweet treasures he so wanted to lure around his own, to press within and become lost in the euphoric pleasure he knew awaited for them both. Kneading into them as the sounds of perfect piano filled the air, a smile spread without warning. "Where are my manners? Trapping you against a wall, my lovely Victoria, was.. I promise.. not my intention." Leaning back a bit, his hands found hers. "Not yet, at least."<br><br>"Behind you, there is a couch." Stepping back, his fingers gently remained in hers. As the air swept between them, Malcolm realized how utterly cold and wrong it was to be any distance from Victoria. Sighing inside, he wondered if this was a madness or if it were truly possible she was this perfect for his needs. Thoughts drifted back to her own words as he wondered if in some possible way she also felt the effect. How was that even possible, he wondered? New territory was unfolding, of this he had no doubt.<br><br>"Please, lovely creature.. make yourself cozy and I will concoct for you the best.. and I do mean <em>the</em> best.. cup of coffee your perfect lips have ever tasted." Smiling, his fingers left hers. Inside him, the lights dimmed a bit at the parting of their touch. The sudden drop in energy flow was enough to shift the beat of his heart. Not by much, but enough for him to feel as if the ground shook slightly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When Little Red Met The Big Bad Wolf (JuliettaRossi &amp; Mordred)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JuliettaRossi</strong> on <strong>20-01-2013, 09:51:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Along with coffee, he promised her a universe...She didn't mind the press of his body to hers. Not at all, in fact. Not in a hundred years would she have pushed him away. She would be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying this...Even if it wasn't a kiss, it felt like something more. That closeness, the intimacy of the space they shared and the energy that hummed between them. She ached to kiss him though, that brush of their lips against one another was a sensory experience - a lesson in control, and an exploration all its own. <br><br>Like a child on Christmas Eve, she wanted it all and now. She didn't want to wait, didn't want to have to close her eyes in case she missed something. His hands moving to her hips, holding her there, sent her lower body into even more of a response mode - tightening, the thought occurring to her that she could wrap her arms around his neck, lift herself up a bit , jean-clad legs wrapping around his waist, holding him close just as he held her tight against the wall. She could press her lips to his and kiss him, the sound of music drifting into her thoughts, his words breaking into her thoughts as he pulled away from her slightly - those ideas of pushing toward more, quicker, now drifting off as he took her hands. She couldn't stop the playful tilt of her lips at the words 'Not yet, at least.' in reference to his keeping her against that wall. <br><br>He walked her to a couch, setting her down on the soft cushions. The entire time, he kept her hand in his, that connection between them never faltering, only lightening it would seem with the distance between them. He promised her coffee once more, remarking that herlet lips were perfect before leaving her there in the living room. No one had ever said such things to her. <br><br>Victoria could already feel a semblance of loss, of something missing, the moment his hands left hers. That's just crazy though...She barely...no...He <em>did</em> seem to know her, and there <em>was</em> something between them - of that she was not mistaken. With distance between them though, the fog began to lift and she could start to think once more. Those doubts, those insecurities, the questions - it all invaded her mind as she looked around the room. Her body felt a loss without him beside her and she noticed the music and the lights that dimmed, wondering why she didn't before. <br><br>Victoria, knees together, tucked her feet back slightly, the heels of the black flats she wore pressing back against the couch as she sat on the edge. The thought of going after him, following him to the kitchen did occur to her, but he told her to stay there...One knee bounced slightly and her fingers occupied themselves by playing with the silver cuff on her wrist, sliding slow over the hammered ridges until she suddenly stood, following the direction he went in, hoping he wouldn't mind her doing so. The echo of his words saying his home was her home and the first thought of that being such an odd statement from someone she barely knew, yet, it really was like they had known each other forever...Perhaps she could help him with the coffee...She could not hide the fact that it wasn't just the coffee though. </span></span>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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