A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Dariusfallenstar on 01-06-2016, 06:48:02</h2>
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				Title: <strong>A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>01-06-2016, 06:48:02</strong>
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				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"> A Dance at Dusk </span></div><br><strong>Featuring:</strong><strong> Darius Fallenstar </strong>as<strong> Lorren Hale</strong> and <strong>Atroxa</strong> as <strong>X. </strong><br><br><strong>Setting:</strong> This story takes place in Victorian London. The world has various supernatural elements (witches, vampires, werewolves, etc.), but most are either extremely rare and old (i.e. from Biblical times) or well-hidden. Things move deep, deep in the shadows and like to stay there – usually until lured out, stirred up, or driven into the light (however briefly), by hunters.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>Fetishes Include:</strong> This story will grow organically, but will probably feature dynamic relationships and some rough, intense scenes that may feature beasts/shapeshifted humans/weres/anthros, etc.<br><br>-<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/otvuCJ5.jpg)</div>The sound of Lorren’s boots hitting the wood planks of the dock brought a tingling peal of pleasure through the man. There wasn’t much the stories got right about his kind, very little in fact, but one key attribute was quite true; unlike werewolves, his kind grew in strength as they aged. Drained life essence accumulated in the humors, granting preternatural creatures ever-evolving powers. It just so happened that only now, in the last decade, had Lorren grown powerful enough to step beyond one of the other true limitations of his kind. He’d taken a ship across the sea, and not in a coffin lined with soil from his home.<br><br>“A few thousand years and countless lives and I suppose we can all outgrow our limitations,” Lorren murmured to himself in the ancient tongue of his first people. <br><br>London stretched before him, ripe and bright with smoky lanterns hung over tight, cobblestone streets. It had been nearly a century since he’d visited, then with his coffin full of dirt, nearly a century since that bad incident with the hunter who’d figured out who he was and had chased him off, killing his bride in the process.<br><br>A century of healing for a man who’d known relatively little personal loss in his long life. Seeing all the new developments, the rush of evolution and technology, he couldn’t help but wonder whether or not he’d allowed himself to wallow for far too long. Humans, it seemed, had become quite interesting in the time he’d spent away.<br><br>“Sir. Excuse me, Sir? Are you Mr. Hale?” A pinch-faced man rushed up, meeting Lorren as he turned to meet the fellow’s gaze.<br><br>“I am,” Lorren replied, his English accent fixed, his slight smile the perfect degree of appropriate on his pale, eternally handsome features.<br><br>“Good, good. I am Mr. Frakes. I believe you’ve been expecting me, yes? The banking house of Johnstone and Everbright are quite pleased to have you here. We have made the purchases you requested, of course, and are at your disposal.” The man bowed, making a doffing motion despite having no hat.<br><br>Lorren bit back a retort that was sharper than this century would have accepted. Of course the bank was happy to oblige him; he’d founded the thing years ago, invested a fortune in it and overseen its growth ever since. They were, to a man, his creatures, whether or not they all had a drop of his blood swimming in their veins, influencing their actions.<br><br>“Very good,” Lorren forced himself to say, maintaining his discipline. “I shall be by the banking house in a few hours. Tell Mr. Johnstone to wait me. I should be there before midnight.”<br><br>Mr. Frakes squinted in a rather mole-like manner, looking up at the pitch sky. It was eight already, past time for reasonable people to be in bed. But Mr. Johnstone had been quite clear about things: anything Mr. Hale wanted, he got. Period.<br><br>“Yes, yes sir,” Mr. Frakes said at last.<br><br>But Lorren was already walking past, his opulent storm cloak billowing grey and black around his broad shoulders as he vanished into the night. And toward the more interesting locations the town might offer. He hadn’t fed on fresh, new blood in some time and was quite eager to sample the local cuisine. <br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>02-06-2016, 08:01:31</strong>
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				Lorren did not move through the darkness; he owned it. Whereas some clung to it as a veil for their predictions and others shied away from it, toward the lambent pools of flickering light defining the street corners, he drew it to him like a second cloak. A mantle that helped defined his tall, statuesque presence, his wolfish refinements and mesmerizing eyes that shone, despite their inherent darkness. His full lips pursed to a half smile as he made his way through the “dangerous” parts of the city, each corner and street reminding him just a little more of the way things once had been. Although, that was only a shadow of a shadow. <br><br>No one was being raped or murdered here. At least, not out in the open.<br><br>Not that Lorren was a particular fan of murder or rape. Murder was a temporary, quick solution that often left a mess behind. A tool from an age that lacked refinement or the long view of things. Rape was something for an impatient, inept cretin – for lesser men, animals really – and he viewed the act with the same sort of distaste others might for a cockroach in their breakfast. <br><br>“Hey, Mister, how about a little company?” Called a voice from an arched window. Lorren glanced that way, saw pale, creamy skin caked in makeup to cover the signs of age and rot, continued on.<br><br>More calls joined the first shortly after, a calamity of invitations that had everything to do with how wealthy he looked and where he was, not his overall physical appeal. Other men and a few women had joined him in his progress – pimps, johns, and women who lived in this side of town going from place to place. Or, perhaps, to their jobs as whores for pimps in other locations. It was, all of it, delightfully sinful. Had Lorren been a sin eater or another creature of that ilk, he’d have soaked it up. As it was, he savored the bouquet, regardless of whether or not he actually wanted to sample its wares.<br><br>His desires had grown refined over the years and such things could no longer sway him any more than the aforementioned murder or rape.<br><br>And then he rounded a corner and hesitated. His eyes flashed across the beauty walking his direction, across the flawless skin and proffered physique, the unspoken offer of youth and ripeness. Despite himself, Lorren felt his gaze drawn upward, away from cleavage, and to a face that held eyes older than they should have been. Hungry, fevered eyes that reminded him of something…long ago. Something bestial that made an echo of pain thrill through his chest. <br><br>In an instant, the ancient man knew that he had to have her. And in knowing, froze where he stood, visible in a pool of stray silvery moonlight, his features – those of a man easily twice her age – as still as the surface of a pool of water. And, like that water, clearly hiding untold depths beneath. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>03-06-2016, 06:56:41</strong>
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				Lorren stood still as the girl circled him, asserting herself as predator – or, perhaps, prey assessing a predator. Now that was an interesting observation. It wasn’t a new thing, not among humans; valued prey selecting their would-be conquerors had been a thing for thousands of years. The trappings of civilization just put more rules on top of it all. Rules that Lorren chose to obey, for now.<br><br>He was a tall man for their time and place; just over six feet, with broad shoulders and a chiseled, hard edge to him that was slightly softened both by his taste in expensive clothes – that and his lips and hair. Both of those were full, ripe, inviting touch or more. Such was the way with this man though; all hard danger limned with an overwhelming sense of the sensual, the erotic. As forbidden as a dagger soaked in sandalwood and concealed in a gem-studded sheath.<br><br>“I am new here, yes,” the man responded, his voice deep, vague accent hinting at far, far away places without putting him in any one specific region. Now it was his turn – stepping forward, walking around the girl, his motions the stuff of flowing honey, his presence somehow simultaneously cold and frighteningly hot. Watching her as he slowly made his way around her body, sizing her up moment by moment, he continued, “I am new here, but I know an expensive prize when I see one.” He stopped before her, waiving a hand at the women in the windows, then gesturing at her wardrobe with a flourish that accentuated the stark white of his gloves.<br><br>“Tell me, what does it cost to possess a marvelous creature such as yourself?” He said the words with a half smile, but the creature lurking within his dark, mysterious eyes didn’t mean them in any sort of ironic way. Intrigued despite himself, Lorren felt real desire stirring for the first time in decades, perhaps centuries. <br><br>This, he decided, would be his indulgence for the evening. One way or the other. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>03-06-2016, 07:52:50</strong>
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				A flash of movement, slow to his eyes, yet surprisingly adroit for a girl looking like this one was. For a moment, Lorren considered her suggestion – the exchange. His watch was quite a prize; something unique from a Swiss engineer who’d only made a couple of the things in his entire career. It was worth a small fortune to anyone who recognized things of such value. Not that this girl, this street walker, would know that. Not that he, a man with a history of wealth and subtle influence stretching back millennia, cared about it in specific. Against the weight of a few moments of passion, there’d be no comparison.<br><br>But he didn’t intend to actually let the girl keep the watch. She might have stirred him, piqued his chest and his loins, but surely once he’d sated himself there would be no need for her to keep any remnant of him. Especially not that. <br><br>Lorren’s fingers wove in and out of a pocket, manifesting the gold and silver pocket watch as if by magic. The chain unclasped from a neat little hole expertly concealed in his pocket – a sure restraint against would-be thieves. Extending the watch toward the girl, Lorren couldn’t help but feel a pang of surprise that he was agreeing to go even this far. Surely he could have managed something more advantageous for himself, even if he was obeying the rules of society.<br><br>But then the watch was sliding against her palms, smooth and imbued with that odd combination of chilly heat that seemed to infuse everything about the mysterious man. Looking about, Lorren remembered a fairly (for the area) nice looking establishment a block away. Gesturing with a hand, offering his elbow with another, he murmured, “Shall we go and cement this little arrangement, M’lady?” <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>03-06-2016, 23:55:30</strong>
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				“You may call me Mr. Hale, or Sir,” Lorren replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Feelings or not, there was an intimacy in first names (no matter the fact that Lorren was not his true birth name at all), and he was not prepared to share that with someone he was about to use and eat. “And yourself?” That was odd. He hadn’t intended to ask her name, not consciously. He told himself he was being polite, playing by the rules that he’d determined to abide by. Still, lurking at the back of his awareness was a hint of unease. He didn’t care about this creature. Couldn’t. Feelings faded. So would she. <br><br>They came to the establishment – a dirty, wide, two-story affair with windows clogged with soot and a door that had been repaired so many times that it didn’t resemble anything so much as a collage of colors and shapes stapled together. Other than that, however, the interior of the place was relatively clean (if dark), and the proprietor, a balding, jolly-looking man standing behind the counter, accepted Lorren’s coins and directions for a key and a few drinks without asking awkward questions or giving any lewd looks to Lorren or his lady. Lorren appreciated that and made a mental note to remember this place before accepting a waitress’s guiding lead up the stairs. The chubby young woman carried their tray of drinks for them and even managed to balance it lightly in one hand as she opened a door and proffered a real metal key to Lorren. <br><br>A magnificent room for a place like this, indeed, to have a room with a lock. Perhaps this was the only one in the whole place.<br><br>The room beyond was relatively spacious, featuring a simple, low bed and a tray table with a dark window facing the alley beyond. It wasn’t much to call home about, but the bed looked to have real feathers in it and Lorren’s senses detected no lice. Hell, it might as well have been a prince’s room compared to most of the other offerings on this side of town.<br><br>“Leave us,” Lorren directed the maid, who obeyed, ducking out and leaving the big man and his companion alone for the first time. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>06-06-2016, 09:48:57</strong>
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				Lorren watched as his companion disrobed, enjoyed the taut professionalism of her maneuvers. Clearly, she’d done this before. To his surprise, he found the sumptuous curves of her body – her refined, protected beauty, contrasting with the fact that she was a common whore in a pleasant way. She was as honest in what she did as he was in what he did. Well, some of the time. <br><br>A flash of a smile creased his lips as he stepped forward. Still clothed, he pressed his chest to her breasts, his body radiating that heat-and-cold, the fabric of his suit rough against her nipples as he leaned down to grip her ass. His fingers drug little lines of white in her skin as he savored the feeling of her in a single, long, gliding caress that wove up between them, across her abdomen, and beneath her breasts. <br><br>A stab of desire followed the caress, a hunger not for blood but something deeper, more meaningful. Without comprehending why, Lorren felt a desire to possess the woman he’d touched, the woman he’d thought he only wanted briefly. A woman in control of herself, who sold herself and then took back what she’d given away each night, only to become pristine again after. He wanted to touch her in a way that could not be untouched, to claim her in a way other men could not, had not. <br><br>Which meant he couldn’t kill her.<br><br>The thought aroused his senses further. At his age, limitations more than allowances piqued his interest. Killing the girl would have made sense – he’d be fed and get his watch back, and he was hungry after the voyage. Then again, being so hungry would only add an edge to what was to come. <br><br>He didn’t undress. His hands found hers, drug them to the fastenings of his pants, to the substantial member concealed within – hard enough to strain the pristine fabric. “Free me,” he commanded, voice a whisper of delightful anticipation, eyes narrowed to meaningful slits. He wanted obedience. He wanted her. And, soon, he’d fucking claim her. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>09-06-2016, 07:47:07</strong>
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				There was no patience in the man by the time his companion had freed him; his passion had mingled with his confusion about his feelings, his hesitation to kill this woman, and the resulting mixture was potent tonic indeed. He growled out his frustration, reaching out and taking her hips between his hands, the motion forcing her away from her teasing touch. He was already rock hard, throbbing in a way that he hadn’t been without spilling blood in decades. Perhaps longer. But now was not the time for contemplation of past conquests.<br><br>Lifting her, he shoved the petite young woman against the wall, his chest against her breasts, his breath hot and cold against her neck. His hips met hers, the tip of his velvet manhood playing at her slit, across her golden thatch of down hair, across her entrance. “I will make you mine,” he growled against her ear, taking it between his lips more to silence himself from voicing any further passions than to give her any pleasure. Making her enjoy this would have been, in some way, an admission that he felt anything at all.<br><br>He arched. Once, twice, cockhead sliding across her entrance, searing her with his odd aura, scintillating across her concealed clit and folds. Then he found her core, speared into her with a sound that seemed oddly vulnerable for a man clearly so interested in selfish pursuits; a cross between a sigh of pleasure and a groan of increased, surprised even, want, as he sheathed himself within her.<br><br>“Made for me,” he groaned in surprise, releasing her captive ear. “You were made for me.” And, indeed, she felt like it. Warm and soft and inviting, yet beyond all those things, as if his manhood – as if all of him – was complete only once he was fully immersed in her.<br><br>Growling again in denial, he struggled to find a properly abusive tempo that wasn’t soft or patient. He couldn’t afford to take his time, not with all these new sensations, not with this woman. He had to use her and be done or else risk everything.<br><br>But then her body gripped him and the ancient man’s thoughts went oddly sideways…<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>16-06-2016, 00:16:42</strong>
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				Lorren was ill-prepared for the pleasure milking him, the sensations granted him by the woman. Thus, he didn’t consciously realize when he made the decision not to kill her. It just slipped to the side: one moment he was thrilled to the point of near-climax at the thought of using, fucking, and killing the girl – and in the next, he’d decided that he didn’t want that at all. Nor did he want to turn her, to force her into his servitude whether she wanted to or not. That wouldn’t be sporting, nor would it fit the sort of man he was trying to be. <br><br>That transition, from devouring and killing to wanting to possess, was enough to push the pumping, humping, arching, fucking creature over the edge. One moment, honestly not long into the process of taking her, and he was on the edge – and in the next, he was growling in his partner’s ear, the sound so bestial that it might as well have belonged to a wolf, his seed exploding in a white hot shower of pure satisfaction and release. The man didn’t finish with his ejaculation, not even close – he arched, pumped, rolled his hip, forced every single drop into the girl, the supernatural man’s volume matching the other improbable aspects of his façade. <br><br>And then he’d lowered the girl back onto the cheap mattress, his eyes gone red over her face – his passion clear even as he wetly slipped from her core. His erections were not dominated by a normal man’s limits and Lorren’s desire knew few bounds. But he’d claimed the girl once, and in a far less satisfying way than he would again – and again – later. <br><br>Smirking, his heat permeating Violet’s core, the man blurred and vanished from the room without a word, only his eerie essence and the watch left behind to prove he’d been real at all. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>21-06-2016, 19:19:21</strong>
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				Lorren made his way to his meeting with his bankers, a sense of lingering hunger working its way through his veins as he did. Once he’d found a beggar to feed on (knocking the man out, then using a knife to slice a vein and feed, rather than using his tell-tale teeth), and the hunger remained unquenched, he was forced to admit the fact that the problem was the girl. Once hadn’t been enough. Sex wouldn’t ever be enough. He wanted to possess her, and as unlikely as it had seemed earlier – when he’d decided to let her live for this very reason – the fire wasn’t banked at all by distance or time. If anything, it was growing hotter, as though the fluids of her sex were seeping into his half-hard cock like some drug.<br><br>It was preposterous, and Lorren did his best to focus on the meeting at hand. His bankers were good men, men he’d overseen for years – fostering, providing wealth and influence from afar, helping them grow and occasionally removing an obstacle or two – and they were quite aware of it. Mr. Hale was treated as he’d have expected: as a king. It took a few hours in the tall, bespoke mansion of Johnstone and Everbright, but he managed to sign and date all of the appropriate forms needed to cement his ownership of a substantial manor and several tracts of land. Including a cemetery and an asylum that he already owned through a subsidiary.<br><br>Once he was done and in his new home – a truly magnificent manor overlooking the bay – he began making plans for the night tomorrow. He wouldn’t go looking for that whore, he told himself. He needed to make himself known in the city, to attend parties and start cultivating friends and influence, not seducing a random street walker. Sleep came briefly, but the absolute darkness that the infernal creature had known since his turning was punctuated with odd things – smells and sights, things that he hadn’t known since he’d had a proper soul. This, more than anything, convinced him that he should avoid looking for the girl at all costs.<br><br>Which was precisely why, when he made his way around the next evening and found the scent of the girl emanating from the building of one of the many parties that his bankers had secured him invitations for, he turned and walked straight up to the valet and presented the card.<br><br>His mind made, despite the potential risks, Mr. Hale made his way into the opulent estate, firmly expecting to discover his whore as a serving wench, perhaps made “available” for some of the guests. The idea was tantalizing. Lorren wasn’t sexually possessive; the thought of his lover fucking other men was more amusing than anything else.&nbsp; <br><br>Thus it was that Lorren Hale, wearing an immaculate black suit with a double-buttoned breast and a grey shirt beneath, his pants black with grey piping, strode into Violet’s family home. His leather-gloved hands wrapped around the end of a dragon-headed cane as he doffed his fashionable grey hat, revealing a rich mane of dark hair and those too-handsome chiseled features that she’d become so intimate with the night before. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>01-07-2016, 06:29:20</strong>
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				Lorren looked over at Violet and quite nearly broke character. Only his experience through the ages gave him the complete control that it took to prevent him from telegraphing any emotional response to seeing the familiar, enchanting young woman. Looking from her to Nathaniel, Lorren gave a moue of a smile – just a hint of interest, even as Nathaniel pawned his beautiful daughter off on him. <br><br>Once they were alone, Lorren murmured, “It’s because he knows I own a large amount of property and command vast wealth. He wouldn’t have left us alone otherwise.” The man sounded amused, his deep voice containing an echo of the pleasures that they’d briefly shared the night before. <br><br>Ah yes, the night before. When he’d taken the girl once and forced himself away lest he lose control or lose himself. Yet here he was, standing in a vast house with the very young woman he’d gone hunting, only to discover an unforeseen mystery. Dark brow arched in a calculating maneuver, Lorren added, “You are not what you seem, M’lady.” He didn’t sound displeased; if anything, the warmth in his voice had risen from his earlier amusement to something deeper and more genuine.<br><br>Offering her an arm, he said, “Allow me to introduce myself formally. I am Lorren Hale, and I would enjoy it if you’d escort me for a dance.” As if being close to her again were some sort of magical talisman, the supernatural being felt his blood stirring at her proximity, at the thought of what he’d do to her the next time he had her. What he wanted to do to her now, in front of the guests at her father’s party. In front of her father.<br><br>Alas, the pains of being a modern gentlemen.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>12-07-2016, 08:00:03</strong>
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				Lorren moved with a grace that seemed somehow profound, as if he were balanced on the edge of a knife between being inhumanly graceful and simply having an unhealthy mixture of raw talent and skill. He carried himself with a surety, his every motion positively commanding – possessive of all in the room – yet aloof, separate from all save his partner. The young woman who had captured his interest the night before. Had he known that he would see her again, see her like this, and feel the familiar fire in his otherwise icy veins, he’d have taken her again and again, pausing to feed if he needed to. All so that his seed would be leaking from her during this very dance.<br><br>Alas, missed opportunities.<br><br>“Tell me about your father,” Lorren invited, voice all velvet and soft. “I came to this party purely by happenstance, one of several that I was invited to this evening. I honestly don’t know much about him.” Lorren’s breath was sweet, almost floral, as he whispered his words, nothing in his tone suggesting that he might be misleading her – if anything, he seemed genuinely curious about her familial circumstances. <br><br>The crowd seemed to surge forward, then away as Lorren drew his partner into a swirl of motion, sending her in a spin to his outstretched fingertips, then pulling her gracefully back – not quite against his chest. These motions, so unlike the ones from the previous night, suggested an ocean of untouched potential in the too-passionate man. Sensuality. Patience. Elegance. Even if the heat that he pressed against her body as they briefly brushed suggested anything but a desire to wait for propriety to be alone with her again. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>14-07-2016, 08:17:09</strong>
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				“Nathaniel Fairfax, you say?” Lorren spoke the phrase musingly, his intense expression shifting from the girl in his arms to something thoughtful and distant. It wasn’t that he was entirely unaware of where he was or which home he’d come into; Lorren’s mind was as sharp as a trap. Rather, he’d been so focused on his conquest that he’d let such facts and factors slip from his grasp. “Shipping is something near and dear to me. I’ve been looking to invest in such for some time, actually.”<br><br>Despite the fact that he owned a significant portion of the city, Lorren’s investments into shipping had been largely disastrous to the bank of Johnstone and Everbright. It had taken years for his other investments, many of which relied on other shipping firms, to recoup those losses. Not that losing money meant much to Lorren Hale – but it was a way to keep score and handle influence, and Lorren wasn’t the sort of man to lose easily.<br><br>“Perhaps I shall have to talk to your father intimately some nigh soon.” His gaze slipped back to the lithe girl in his arms, her presence reinforcing his desire to return to the premises, making it a rather fortuitous coincidence. Looking down at the girl’s face, Lorren couldn’t help but wonder how she felt and what she was thinking. He had enhanced senses, an ability to scent arousal and practically read minds, but the room was crowded and Lorren’s desire for her clouded everything he did, making getting a read on the girl seemingly impossible. Did she want him? Did their brief liaison leave a positive mark on her, or did the fact that he’d been so quick – to reach his peak and to leave – douse the fires of her interest? <br><br>The fact that she was dancing with him meant nothing; her father had encouraged the interaction and her mother was practically gesturing for her to strip and suck his cock on the dance floor. Hale was handsome, older, and extremely rich and the older woman clearly knew that score as well as he might. <br><br>No, social pressures aside, Lorren wanted the girl as infatuated with him as he was with her and he would settle for nothing less. Smiling a secretive, mysterious smile, Lorren murmured, “I may have to leave and dance with that handsome woman over there if she continues making eyes at me.” Violet’s mother, actually, wasn’t handsome – she was beautiful, a blossom very much like a mature version of her daughter, and at Lorren’s glance, she blushed furiously, which made Lorren’s grin turn positively predatory. The forbidden was always fun, even if he was playing games simply to see if his partner’s fires stirred. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>15-07-2016, 05:18:36</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Lorren watched the girl go, a vague sort of amusement warring with his sense of surprised agitation. He hadn’t wanted that to happen, hadn’t expected the girl to be so spirited. He’d been toying with her to see if she had a possessive side, but instead he’d apparently hurt her feelings. Which told him there were feelings to be hurt. Which, ultimately, amused and pleased him. <br><br>Looking to Abigail, Lorren let his hypnotic gaze travel across the older woman’s physique. She was beautiful in a refined sort of way that most women didn’t have these days – not after they gave birth – and even more unusual when compared to her doughy husband. He briefly considered what he wanted from her, then made a snap decision that felt incredibly right. “M’lady, I should go explain myself to your daughter. However,” he paused, reaching down and removing a golden ring with a red stamp from his pinky finger – then he held it out, pressing it to her hands, “please take this token as a promise for a dance and a conversation sooner rather than later.”<br><br>Lorren leaned in and kissed the woman on the cheek. The aroma of her blood was tantalizing in a way that her daughter’s was not. Lorren wanted Violet to be his willingly. Abigail, however, could comfortably become his pawn without any sense of loss. As it should be. Turning his broad back to the mother, Lorren moved with an apparent lack of haste – though his every step seemed to devour yards – after the object of his true affection. <br><br>Her scent was clear and he couldn’t help but wonder where she’d lead him this night, a thrill of anticipation accompanying the thought and stiffening his body deliciously. Oh, how he wanted this magnificent girl! <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>15-07-2016, 07:47:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Following that magnificent scent wasn’t difficult in the least, yet Lorren did find himself privately pleased with the girl’s alacrity. She’d managed to stay ahead despite his innate speed. Of course, he could have applied *real* speed to the chase, but that wouldn’t have been fun at all. In a way, doing so would have broken the spirit of the game that he’d decided they were playing.<br><br>Passing through the house and into the starlit outdoors, Lorren felt his awareness prickle at the sounds of others nearby. Low speech and, perhaps, more than a few low moans, rose from the thick hedges around carefully cultivated nooks and crannies. Idly, the man wondered if Violet’s father might have been out here; he hadn’t seen the fat man in a few minutes. Was it possible that he was engaged in an illicit liaison? It would be quite appropriate.<br><br>Moving through the growth, Lorren turned through a series of winding curves until he came to a small fountain depicting some vaguely sensual roman god cavorting with a goddess. It was an improbable piece, but perhaps there was some sort of kismet in his landing and discovering this family – so teetering on the cusp of real corruption. Past the fountain and around another turn, Lorren found her. Voice low, sepulchral and almost violently hungry, he spoke.<br><br>“It is not good to run from me. It brings out certain….” He paused, letting the moment linger, “instincts.” And, for just a moment, it seemed as through the tall, dark man’s eyes glinted amber in the darkness. But then it passed, just an action of the night, and he was moving closer, crowding her in her space. Giving her no room to flee him again.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>20-07-2016, 07:36:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A smooth motion, barely a ripple in the dark, and Lorren’s arms were around Violet’s waist. Capturing her. Drawing her before him with the inexorable strength of stone. The man’s musky, spicy scent seemed to enfold her as he pulled her near, the familiar chill-yet-heat of his proximity filling the air with anticipatory frission. He held her there for a long moment, letting her see the hint of desire filling his eyes as he simply took her in. Her petite size. The feeling of her curves where his hands had naturally come to rest – just above the swell of her hips. Her softness at odds with where he was hard.<br><br>“Make me forget your mother,” Lorren said at last, a wicked, challenging dare that he suspected was doomed to bring the girl’s stubborn nature to the fore. He didn’t care. His wicked hands had pushed her back against the bench, forcing her with deliberate ease back onto the cold, hard length of the thing. One of his mischievous hands slid beneath her bustle and the hem of her dress, past layers of protective clothing and to ankles. Then calves. Then thighs. Ever upward his reach went, his other hand rigorous in its stalwart offense – holding her down, the fingers shifting from arm to chest as he looked into her eyes.<br><br>Making sure she understood what he intended to do to her. The opportunity that her words and actions had won her this night. “I will have you again. And again,” he declared in a husky, warm voice, bending down to capture her lips with his in a predatory kiss even as his hand found the molten core between her thighs and began skillfully coaxing at the treasures that would surely be his in mere moments.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Dance at Dusk (Darius Fallenstar X Atroxa)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dariusfallenstar</strong> on <strong>02-08-2016, 06:50:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lorren was merciless in an entirely different way this night. He wanted to claim the girl, naturally; the feelings pulsing in his long-dead chest were ones he sought to foster, novelty in a universe of unrelenting sameness, but those very feelings pushed him to act other than the girl might anticipate. The night before, he’d taken her. Roughly. Quickly. Without grace or skill, he’d become little more than an animal rutting between her thighs – yet another John in a line of men who’d no doubt claimed her core. <br><br>Tonight would be different.<br><br>His lips remained on hers, kissing, seeking, breath mingling with that cool minty quality that that bespoke his unique condition. His warmth seemed to come entirely from her, or their contact; only through their kiss did his lips take on heat, only through her quivering need did his fingers catch fire. And wicked fire that was, working across her downy folds, finding the secret combination of motions to make her gasp – one finger sweeping around her captured treasure, then across, with less and then more pressure – methodically discovering which pressure and where made her respond with the greatest vibrancy. He even walked his hand higher, teasing her pelvis and hips, before returning beneath to tease her entrance.<br><br>Only when he’d felt his fingers come close to that unique combination of caresses and sharp, hungry squeezes, did he break the kiss and make his next move. “Shh,” he said against her lips, cautioning her to silence.<br><br>Then, against all odds, the wicked man lifted her skirts and ducked his head beneath. An instant later, a cloud of that lukewarm air – oddly electric – slid across Violet’s inner thighs, followed by the sharp, strawberry-blissful sensation of mild penetration as the man bit down near the crux of thigh and hip joint. One drop of blood, perhaps two, and then he’d lapped the wound away, making it vanish as he tormented the girl with his commanding, erotic proximity to her center.<br><br>“Be mine,” he growled against her, the words vibrating through her extremities, before his knowing tongue began a second round of exploration – taking what his fingers had learned in account, of course, before circling her entrance. More tease, more wicked enticement. All of a different sort. <br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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