Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Subtle Trouble on 09-03-2011, 16:38:11</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>09-03-2011, 16:38:11</strong>
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				Morena sighed to herself softly, her mouth silently working as she lay on the roof of their house, counting the infinite stars that perforated the inky sky. Soft strains of jazz floated across the city, and the woman smiled softly, finding comfort in simply being allowed to relax, away from the insufferable Michael Solomon, listening to far off strains of music, counting to infinity and back. Long, black hair spread across the shingles of the roof, blending in with the tar that had long since dried, dark-framed golden eyes slowly drifting across the sky, as if she could read what the stars had to say. As if they held the secret to Michael's unreadable emotions. His mind. Finely shaped black brows crowned a porcelain face, a straight, thin bridge running down the center of her face, ending in a rounded nose, slightly upturned. Below lay a perfect pair of pink, bowed lips. She had been gorgeous alive, she was stunning, dead.<br><br>She was fairly young for a vampire, not even a century old. Still, she was alone, her Sire having caught the bad side of an artillery shell in the Great War about ten years ago. That had been the hardest time, his absence, before she found Michael. Long fingers, tipped with almond-shaped nails ran across the thin leather that encircled her neck, sitting low, a heavy, circular clasp nestled in the hollow of her throat. It was what made her and Michael's... partnership possible. That's what he called it, a partnership. A pang of pain shot through her still chest every time he said the word. He knew she loved him. She'd only told him about a year back. Maybe less. It had taken her the better part of a decade to realize what she felt for the human, come to terms with it, and share it. Not that it had done her any good.<br><br>Finally, she pushed herself upright, and began her descent back through the window. The straight line of her dress allowed for a range of movement she'd never experienced before, and she liked it, one of the good things to come from the war. She would never have been able to climb to the roof before, at least not conventionally. Her bare feet found the floor, and she took a long draw of air, going to search for her love, following his sent trail. He always smelled faintly of rosemary, and hair oil. Blood and magic. It was like electricity to taste him, it made the world so much more vivid. She walked silently, her stomach cramping. It had been a good two months since she'd tasted live blood... his blood. <br><br>Morena peeked around the doorway to his study, and smiled softly, and padded in. He'd aged. She hadn't. She still looked about twenty years of age. She'd been twenty when her Sire had taken her from her home, turned her, and taught her. She'd been frightened at first, but he had been kind. Stepping around the door, she allowed herself to adopt a drawn, hungry look. Butcher's blood only did her so well. It was dead, like eating rotten fruit. She did it for him. "Michael, Darling." She announced herself, fingers straying across the back of his bent neck. "I'm hungry."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>09-03-2011, 17:21:06</strong>
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				(http://img59.imageshack.us/img59/8097/1180510386a10775564676l.jpg)<br><br>The book was definitely from Germany, sometime in the early 15th century, and was, but for the few necessities to keep body and soul together, the only thing in his life. He lived on automatic at such times, some higher part of his mind ensuring that he ate regularly, drank as much as was needed to keep him focused, and dragged him off to a shower and a few hours sleep every night, everything done purely to make sure that he was working at his optimum. There were other cravings, but they had little power against the allure of sorcery, and although he was able to consume a steady chain of cigarettes and finish off two bottles of very good scotch during his week long binge, he had little time to pursue any of the more affectionate aspects of the partnership.<br><br>He preferred to think of it as a partnership because, as he saw it, it was the pure and simple truth. They worked together, they lived together, and they even had quite a lot of fun together, but at the end of the day he could not ignore the fact that no matter how hauntingly beautiful or gently charming she was, there was no objective description of her that could leave out bloodthirsty and undead. It wasn't cruelty, though he was bright enough to suspect that his need for control made sure to keep those two details at the forefront of his mind, although in fairness to his paranoia there was a rather high risk of being mauled by her without certain precautions.<br><br>He might have felt guilty, but magic was a life for people driven by an obsession with control, it was almost the only real requirement for the vocation. Life had thought him exactly what happened to people who were content to follow orders, and he was in no hurry to play cannon fodder ever again. Like her, he had realised that age was a burden only one of them had to carry, but he appreciated the wisdom he had gained from years of being a very good survivor. "Can't you catch a pigeon or a cat?" He was not at his best, and it was at those times when his dusky complexion, and bright green eyes gave him a diabolical appearance, his expressions lent themselves well to annoyance. Careful not to let his temper get the better of him twice in one day, he turned back to look at her, sighing ever so slightly. "I need my concentration, I'll look after you later."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>09-03-2011, 17:39:21</strong>
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				Morena's bottom lip pouted out petulantly, as he dismissed her, and she stepped back, fingers falling from his neck. "It's been two months." She replied softly, her eyes skittering from his face. She tried not to be hurt, bt it was impossible not to. He loved that damned book more than he ever would her, and once he was done with it he would find another. "Please." She added. "Just an hour, and then I'll leave you alone." She wandered to a nearby book case, pulling a pair of shackles, etched with runes similar to those on her collar, down, and held them out to him. "You've been reading that book for weeks. Don't you want me at all?" She begged. She knew all to well how whiny she sounded, how petulant, but it was that or break down, tear her throat open trying to get the damned collar off and try to attack him. None of which would work.<br><br>Her eyelashes shaded against her high cheekbones for a moment, before she looked back up to him, eyes wide, shining with unshed, blood tainted tears. "I've counted the stars four times already tonight. I want something else. I want you..." If he did not relent sometime soon, then she would have to pull out the big guns. The way the light from his lamp slanted across his brow, the stubble grown out on his cheeks was somehow even more attractive than when he took the time to look presentable. "I've let you have your concentration for so long. I'm bored, Michael, and I'm hungry, and I'm about to go crazy with it."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>09-03-2011, 19:04:01</strong>
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				The sensible thing for him to do would be to give her what she wanted, most men would have given her anything she wanted even if it proved to be suicide, which it could well be without a bit of good sense. Unfortunately, sensibility was hardly a trait he had ever laid much claim to, although a combination of paranoia and cunning had allowed him to manage a decent simulacrum of it. "You know that I always like to have you around, but I don't have forever." He turned in the chair to follow her, lighting himself a cigarette as he watched her fetch her shackles like a puppy with a leash, and a rather similar look of wounded loyalty. "I've only got so much time to learn what I want to know." It was a cruel thing to say, but he was in a cruel mood and it was hardly the right moment to have showed vulnerability to him. He understood the need, it was just that her addiction required him to forsake his own, even for a moment.<br><br>Shameless to the last, he stubbed out his smoke and rose to approach her, his arms wrapping around her shoulders even as his lips framed softly soothing noises. Drawing her closer, his hand rose into her hair, tangling around the soft dark tresses, and he gently guided her head back so that he could look into her eyes. "What kept you occupied before you met me?" Taking advantage of the opportunity to secure a little leverage, he let his cheek press lightly against her own, his lips brushing against the lobe of her ear, and he knew that she would be able to feel his pulse dancing so close to her hungry mouth. "You know you don't need it. It's just in your mind." A kiss just behind her ear, and he tightened his hold upon her, nibbling ever so lightly in just the sort of way she was bound to hate when she had no way to bite back.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>09-03-2011, 19:19:57</strong>
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				Every word, move and thought was meant to hurt her, and he was an expert at it. Her eyes closed, face wrinkling as she turned away, tears threatening, as he reached her, arms sliding around in a perverted act of compassion. Her eyes opened, staring into his, and she bared her teeth, fangs elongating. She couldn't bite him. She'd tried, once, with the collar on. She'd slept for four weeks from the blast of magic that had shot through her, frying her innards like lightning. Damn near killed her. "My sire," she hissed in reply. The man had treated her kindly, taught her as much as he could. Taught her to be whimsical, enjoy everything she could. Michael was teaching her never to trust anything. Not even the man she was in love with.<br><br>Her eyes closed, a painful moan escaping as he pressed his cheek to hers, his pulse beating nearly against her lips, his voice teasing, teeth on her throat. She groaned again, her chest feeling empty, pain, cramps, everything curdling inside of her. She stood a moment, before her hands flashed up, slamming into his chest to push him away, not caring if she sent him into his desk. Any injury he sustained he could heal. The only book she'd ever gotten him was one of healing. "Have your books then." She hissed, eyes flashing red, twin trails of blood tracking don either side of her nose. Without another word, she whirled, flashing to, then out the window. She leapt across the roofs of houses, her dress hiking up to her waist from her strides, until she found the grave yard. Carefully, she picked her way through, to the mausoleum she went to stew in, avoiding the shadows cast by headstones, and pulling the rusted gate easily. Sitting behind the tomb, she allowed her tears to flow. She hated him, she loved him. And he was getting older by the day, he knew how much it pained her, and the cruel bastard used it. An he would die, and she would be alone again. Just like after Andreas had died. She'd only been alone a year, but she'd been half mad at it. wandering across the muddy trenches of France. He had been a godsend then. He was the worst kind of curse she could endure.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>09-03-2011, 19:35:05</strong>
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				There were half a thousand different ways to heal the flesh, and all but a handful of them were too costly, exhausting or inefficient to be of any realistic usefulness. The few more required materials or methods not readily available to him, and so he had learned to get used to just using the old fashioned business of resting and letting his body repair itself while he took something for the pain. It was true that he could use certain natural energies to increase the speed and efficacy of natural healing, but that was the sort of thing that also took a very clear mind and plenty of peace and quiet. It was deafeningly silent on his own, even after the blood had stopped storming through his ears like a cavalry charge, and he realised that the bloody taste in his mouth was from a busted lip and not a ruptured lung.<br><br>Hauling himself to his feet about half an hour after she had left, he knew that the consequences of not taking a sensible action required a more drastic course if he was going to have any peace. It took a while, and an awful lot of scratches, to get a cup full of cat's blood, taken fresh from a black tom particularly. After all the trouble, it was a matter of saying a few words and dipping an ornate old key in the blood. It was the only thing he could rely on to draw her back home.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>09-03-2011, 19:44:20</strong>
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				Morena had planned on being gone for a few days, maybe weeks. She wanted so badly not to need him. Hell, she was about ready to go for a stroll at noon if it would make it easier. But it wouldn't, and she wasn't strong enough, any how. As the taste of blood filled her mouth, and the familiar tug at her chest began, she swore, smudging bloody tears into her cheeks as she attempted to wipe them away. She knew he would call her back eventually, whether she wanted or no. She was living in hell, and he was happily pulling her strings along. It perhaps took her five minutes to get back, and she swung expertly into his study, silently staring at him, as she crouched on his desk from where she'd landed through the window.<br><br>Blood smeared across her cheeks, and her eyes were deep red, as if they'd been bruised moments beforehand. Purple ringed around the hollow looking eyes. Her lips were dry, white, cracked. She'd lost blood crying, and she'd bitten at her own wrists, drinking her blood to try and help the cramps. She looked terrifying, truly like a monster, elongated fingernails, and gums receded. She would have eaten the vermin that happened into the tomb, let herself heal and let the emotions fade had she the choice. Her feet smudged his papers, and her bottom rested on his precious book. Morena stared a her love as if she wished he were dead. Hell, she did wish he was dead. She was just unclear whether she wanted him a corpse or a vampire.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>10-03-2011, 00:18:11</strong>
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				The thing about magic was that, sooner or later, you got used to seeing truly horrifying images. The thing was, most of those things were manifestations of the spirit, as intangible as hope and memories, and they were made to be terrifying, their inhumanity was part of their nature, it could be understood, after a fashion. Looking at what had been a beautiful young woman turned into an almost feral predator was disquieting on a level that even his rather tainted soul was unfamiliar with. It took an effort of will not to turn away, but he mastered himself, moving towards her without hesitation once he had chosen the course of action.<br><br>"You're a crazy bitch, you know that, don't you?" He smiled faintly, letting his arms encircle her delicate shoulders as though she was as dainty as her build suggested, and couldn't have eviscerated him with a single swipe of her usually perfectly manicured nails. There was a scalpel taken from his collection in his pocket, and he slipped it into one of his hands as, behind her back, he carefully opened a vein in his wrist, choosing the hand most savaged by the recently exsanguinated cat. Letting the scent draw her attention away from her own self pity, he shut his eyes as he lifted his wrist in offering, trying to remind himself that she wouldn't bite with the collar on. There were times when he could calmly draw his own blood for any number of reasons, and then sometimes it was just a reminder of pain and terror and it was all he could do to keep his hand steady as he fed her.<br><br>He would have to start stocking up on seeds again, though it was better not to let her notice, she knew him too well to believe that he would ever make a deliberate attempt to eat quite so healthily. There was nothing quite like watching her gather and count each and every seed, scowling and muttering curses all the time, but it was more than just mere amusement. There were times when he had to put genuine effort into thinking of ways to protect himself from some of her more dangerous aspects, just to safeguard his peace of mind.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>10-03-2011, 02:20:03</strong>
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				Morena snarled, as he walked closer, his taunting words piercing an already wounded ego. But she didn't bite. Her fingernails pierced deep into her palms, as his arms encircled her, grinding against bones, scoring them deeply. As the scalpel slipped through his skin, like a shark through water, her nostrils flared, taking in the deep scent of his blood. A moan, sounding nothing like a human would make threaded through pointed teeth, and her head craned, looking for the source. And as it was proffered, she let her hands loose, grabbing his arm, smudging her own blood into his wrist, as her eyes closed, her tongue slipping out to glide along the cut, smearing it with her saliva, and gathering all of the blood. Her lips closed around the cut, and she moaned again, sucking against the flesh, teeth careful to avoid the skin.<br><br>As she drank, her skin evened out, a certain plumpness returning to her cheeks as the bruises around her eyes cleared, as storm clouds would evaporate. Her hair regained its gloss, ans her fingernails receded, no longer stabbing against his flesh. She drank her fill, though not much, before she released his wrist, dropping his arm, and standing from the desk. She hopped down, avoiding his touch, and stared at him, mouth set, and eyes blank, before she strode from the room. His wrist would be fine, and libido up. Her saliva would ensure the healing without a scar, and that his blood was heated. Let him stew in it, let him want her for once. She closed the door behind herself, and lightly jumped down to the next level, not even bothering with the stairs. Her knees bent with her light landing, and she began down the next set of stairs. She would go to the cellar, where her coffin was, and where she slept. <br><br>Morena didn't bother with a lock. That was child's play to Michael, and if he wanted to follow he would. But she was not going to give him any satisfaction without a fight. Her blood, too, pumped through her veins, the aphrodisiac of her bite making her slightly dizzy, her womanhood flare within her groin. She ignored it, as she opened the slightly scuffed coffin's lid, and slid herself in, pulling it down with a heavy thud from a handle on the inside.<br><br>Fuck Michael Solomon.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>10-03-2011, 20:30:00</strong>
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				There was a hard way and an easy way to solve the particular problem of a woman scorned, but he had trouble deciding just exactly which was which. Logic and rationale were never acceptable guidelines to a woman's behaviour, especially not one more then four times as old as him. The possibilities rolled through his head as he considered leaving her to sulk while he went for a drink, and, less temptingly, making an effort towards reconciliation. His ego did not naturally approve of such base sentimentality, and no matter how much he might have wanted to apologise he nevertheless found it impossible to manage to voice his otherwise sincere contrition.<br><br>Deciding to take the path of relatively lowest cost to himself, he tried to focus on the consequences of doing nothing as he did what needed to be done. It took a certain sort of mind to weigh a great deal of physical pain against the emotional torture of admitting fault, and decided on the pain. To his credit, he tried to minimise the damage and the pain, but there was no way to make breaking one's own rib a painless affair, no matter how surgically applied the blunt trauma. Though he had certain talents to help him cope with the sudden tumult of agony, he was nevertheless knocked to his knees, snarling as quietly as he could until the waves of pain subsided and he could try to focus on a single thought against the backdrop of flaring nerves.<br><br>At least it helped to take his mind off the damned woman, and the relative simplicity of finding a hammer and a sharp piece of wood. That wasn't as comforting as he might have imagined, but at least, and unfortunately, he was well used to pain. Struggling along the descent without getting a jolt was as easy as he might have wished, but it was worth the suffering to make sure that she felt enough guilt to forget his own misdeeds. He flipped open the lid of the coffin, leaning on the edge as he tried to catch his breath, and peered down at her.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>10-03-2011, 20:42:31</strong>
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				"Go <em>away</em> Mi-" Morena stopped short, flopping on her back to see his drawn expression, the lines of pain and the thin lips. A soft curse escaped her lips, and she sat up, looking at his rumped appearance. She'd hurt him. She could smell the way his blood was pooling at his rib, bruising and swelling. It was the worst she'd ever hurt him. She stared at him, stunned, pain for his damage already pooling in her gut. "I'm sorry." She whispered, voice breaking. The blood of her previous tears still smudged against her cheeks, like a macabre one type of blusher, and she looked down. It must have been when she pushed him. She couldn't believe what she'd done, and guilt coursed through her veins. She should have just left him alone, caught cats and rodents, and been patient. Never mind their blood was nauseatingly abhorrent, never mind that she couldn't stand chasing the vermin, being reduced to a mouser. She should have let him have his damned books. Then he wouldn't have said those things, and she wouldn't have pushed him.<br><br>"You can heal it, can't you?" she asked, not even pausing to wonder why he hadn't healed it upstairs, why he had managed his way down two fights of stairs with a freshly broken rib. She didn't wonder why he hadn't shown any signs of it twenty minutes before as he fed her. It wasn't that she was stupid, just that she was distracted, horrified at herself, hating what she was and what she'd done.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>10-03-2011, 21:18:53</strong>
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				Michael knew how to counteract any possible queries, an accomplished liar was always prepared with a few contingencies although he was more than willing to make use of his talent for improvisation if it came to it. He leaned towards her before she could muster any suspicion, laying his head upon her shoulder with a weary sigh, the arm not held tightly to his injured side rising to wrap around her waist, drawing her closer. "I don't want to fight with you." He spoke as softly as he could, communicating his contrition with string of light kisses along the line of her jaw, lingering close to her ear to whisper the closest he could come to an admission of guilt. "I just don't like it when you manipulate me like that."<br><br>If he had any shame over his hypocrisy it didn't show, and he let his fingertips brush over the clasp of her collar as he uttered a word, letting it fall open. Though he never trusted her entirely when she was free of it, since her higher nature was nevertheless rather different from the bloodthirsty demon that kept her from ever truly dying, it was slightly safer once she had fed and was feeling at least a little guilty. "Stay with me tonight." Taking her hand in his, he sought to draw her away from the coffin to lead her up the stairs to his own room.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>10-03-2011, 21:29:28</strong>
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				Morena's eyes closed bitterly as he leaned close, whispering to her. Confirming her guilt. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I didn't mean to... I was just angry... You know how I hate watching you age..." She tried to explain, opening her eyes to him as he drew back, a shiver running up her spine from his breath in her ear. "Why won't you let me turn you?" She asked, voice pleading. "Then you would have forever and a day to read your books, you wouldn't have to pour over them for weeks on end..." Again, her eyes closed, a sigh of relief escaping her throat as the worn collar fell away. It was comfortable, but it always was there, reminding her of the restriction put on her. "You would heal that rib in a day."<br><br>She stood, as he drew her out of her bed, nodding as he invited her to stay with him. Her bare feet were silent on the dirt floor, as she followed him slowly, to, then up the stairs, watching him carefully, his gait, the way he clutched his rib. She would bind it for him, if he wouldn't use his magic, try to kiss away his pain, her guilt. She was the reason for his injury, and she would do all she could to aid its mend. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>10-03-2011, 23:08:16</strong>
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				Not one to spoil the mood by speaking out of turn, at least not more than twice a night, Michael sat upon the edge of his bed while Morena tended to his injury, and for once he actually needed her help in getting out of his clothes, and if he was more comfortable with such affection he would rather have enjoyed her nurturing touch. He would heal up sooner than most men would, but he had no desire to die just to get around a few inconveniences, and he frowned slightly as he peered up at her. "I'd just have to drink blood, sleep all day and get used to an obsession with orderliness." Smiling softly, he lay back, wincing only slightly at the pain of the movement, and beckoned her down to join him.<br><br>"You know that we both prefer me alive." Laying his head back, it took an effort not to slip straight away into the depths of slumber, but he fought back the exhaustion long enough to get beneath the blankets, holding the edge up as he offered her a chance to nestle into the warm hollow formed by his body as he turned to lay on his uninjured side. "Would you really be able to kill me?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>10-03-2011, 23:24:57</strong>
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				Morena carefully eased him from his shirt, as he sat, and used the bandages he kept in the room, for when their play got bloody, to tightly bind his ribcage, before she bent to carefully take his shoes, and trousers, folding his clothes to set them on top of his bureau. "It's not terrible, you know." She replied. "Is it really so bad to be tidy? And sleeping all day is just the same as sleeping all night." She added. "Just the sun is up instead of the moon."&nbsp; A sigh escaped her lips, and she shook her head at his reply. "I don't." She contradicted. "Because when you're alive it means that you can die without coming back." <br><br>She slipped between the sheets, after shedding, and folding her own clothes, nestling carefully against him, her head resting beneath his chin. "I would if I knew you were coming back." She repeated, one arm looping lazily over his stomach. Her lashes cast shadows on her high cheekbones as she rested against him. She would have to leave eventually, go back to her coffin for the day, but until then she would rest with him. Her lips pressed against his chest lightly, remaining silent.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>11-03-2011, 16:04:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Realising that he already slept away most of each day was not quite enough to sway him over to Morena's side, even if it did ache quite a bit more to be alive. He had learned how to get to know pain at an early age, and it often occurred to him that she had never really known a great deal of suffering before she had died, and it was hard for him to imagine how she viewed mere physical pain. Thinking it best not to reply when he knew that she wouldn't change her mind, although he sometimes had to doubt that she cared quite so much about making him one of the living dead as he did about keeping his soul intact. "If I live to fifty, then I promise you that I'll consider it."<br><br>With a soft sigh he settled back, a hand rising to stroke her shoulder lightly, and he drifted into a deep slumber that would have resembled death, were it not for his soft breaths and the slight motion of his hand. It might have been disturbing, but as he was sharing his bed with a woman who didn't breathe at all it hardly seemed as though he had any need to worry. In the trance that lay beneath unconsciousness he was able to focus on trying to heal his rib, redirecting subtle energies towards those crushed tissues, bolstering them against further damage. Far from perfect, it did at least help him to get by with the usual knocks and scrapes he took on the job. It left scars, and he wondered, not for the first time, if the mark left by each injury might be abhorrent in her eyes.<br><br>He knew that she would always be exactly as he had found her, pale and perfect and utterly unchanging. It was worth admiring, even in the depths of sleep, and when he woke a little later to find her stirring to leave him, he reached out to take her wrist, holding her back. He had no strength to keep her from leaving, even on his best day she was strong enough to snap his bones like dry kindling. "What's it going to take to get you to stay?" Sleepy as he was, he was not at all too tired to admire that high, graceful carriage of hers, and despite the twinge of pain he sat up enough to press his head to her chest, nuzzling against her breasts in a shameless attempt at manipulation, albeit without his hands. His lips brushed carefully over one pale nipple, his tongue pressing the stiff nub against the roof of his mouth as his lips sought to envelop as much of that perfect mound as he could, his hands tightening against her rear to pull her closer into the embrace. The pain in his chest stabbed sharply at him, but he was too far gone to worry, focusing on what he needed far more than a reminder about his damaged bones. His teeth were not nearly so sharp as hers, but he had hunger driving that bite, the slowly increasing pressure eventually giving her skin cause to yield, and his fingertips dug into her skin as he sucked greedily at the first taste of coppery ambrosia.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>14-03-2011, 12:32:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Morena sighed softly, forced to be content with his acquiescence. Fifty. He would be old, then. She lay with him, still, dozing lightly, though she didn't move, or breathe like a living person would. Nonetheless, she wasn't cold. She'd fed, tonight. Finally, her eyes opened, with irrefutable knowledge that the sun would rise. She wanted to go downstairs, to her coffin. She wouldn't burn up, and she wouldn't expire without her grave and its dirt, but she would get a wicked sunburn, and her eyes were unused to the light. As she rose, carefully dis-tangling herself from Michael's hold, she expected his hand to capture her. She still couldn't get out of bed without him noticing. <br><br>Doe eyes looked to him, as he rose, his face burying between her breasts, nuzzling in a moment of tenderness. Her own hands draped across his shoulders, cradling the back of his head. "All you have to do is ask." She replied softly, eyes drifting half-closed as he drifted to one side. A soft gasp escaped her, as his mouth caught her nipple, his hands capturing her rear close. She moaned, as his teeth pressed softly against her flesh, freezing as they continued to press, her eyebrows furrowing, mouth opening in pain as he bit into her skin, blood slowly welling in a perfect bite around her nipple. She gasped, as he began to suck, shock freezing her, holding herself back from flinging him across the room like so many rag-dolls. What was he doing? Did he know what he was doing? How absolutely hypocritical it was? Carefully, she tugged on his hair, pulling him back.<br><br>Her fangs again had descended, her eyes red, in a healthy mockery of her earlier visage. "Let go." She said softly. She couldn't even think, right then, how he'd just done what she was trying to for the past ten years. He was a vampire, allbeit one that was still alive. All it took was a taste of vampire blood and he would be one. Or vampire blood mixing in one's body. "Michael." She added, voice firm, as if talking to a disobedient child. "Let. Me. Go before I hurt you." It was all she could do not to defend herself against him, hurt him. This was almost a rape. She'd once bitten him, and never had she again, relying on his generosity for her meals, and she would be damned if he could bite her on a whim. He could ask and whinge and wheeldle just as she had to. Hell, all he had to do was consent and she would have gladly opened her wrist. Of course, the perfect Michael Solomon would never simply ask.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>14-03-2011, 18:46:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Power was the root of any boy's interest in the arcane, he could feel it dancing across his tongue, crackling in the tips of her fingers. Magic was the heart and soul of him, and he could feel it singing in his flesh as he looked up at her with a faint smile. There was a part of his mind that was focused on maintaining control, but he couldn't fight off all of that pleasant euphoria that came with the mere taste of her. "Hurt me, then." His hand rose slowly, gliding along the length of her arm on the way to cupping her cheek. There was no resistance against her hold, though any struggle would probably only have torn his hair out before her grip might break. She could enjoy the sense of control, he appreciated the need for such illusions in others.<br><br>He brushed his fingertips along the line of her jaw, tracing to contours of her lips as he peered up at her. His fear of monsters died when he had hit puberty and had started to talking to demons more than his own family, but he knew that, in many ways, she was more fearsome than any other monster he had seen, for he loved her even when she made no attempt to hide her nature. The tip of his finger pressed against her lips when she spoke, though not just to silence her, and he took advantage of the moment's surprise to press the soft pad against the point of one of her fangs, drawing his own blood to soothe her troubled nerves. "Stay with me." One of the only sureties in their relationship was that he knew she could not resist that taste and, though he would never admit it, he would give her anything to keep her from leaving.<br><br>Her fierce pride was no mystery to him, it hadn't been since she'd dragged him out of the blood and the muck. He knew her pain as well as he knew her needs, and even if he fought against submitting to her service he at least admitted to his desire to, at least, please her. Rising to stand, he laid his head upon her shoulder, kissing her throat lightly, his touch a little more gentle for his understanding of her rage and disappointment. "Isn't that what you wanted?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>14-03-2011, 19:05:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As he let her go, looked up, her fingers relaxed, and she stared, down at him, and her breast, where the red blood welled from her alabaster skin. She breathed slowly, now, every breath shaky, her eyes closing as he pressed the pad of his finger to her fang, allowing a drop t well, her tongue darting out to taste it. "Goddamn it, Michael..." She whispered, stepping away from his hold, her feet finding the floor. He followed, his lips lingering against her throat, sending chills of pleasure up her spine, her loins flaring. "Not like that, Michael..." She whispered, eyes closed, her muscles stiff. "Why didn't you just ask?" She whispered, voice breaking as she again felt tears well. Her hands rose to cover her breasts, something she hadn't done in sixty years. She looked to him, stepping back, again. "If you'd asked... told me you wanted..." She shook her head, and took another step away. "I'm going to my room."<br><br>She turned then, fighting to keep from shaking, from sobbing, as she walked from the room. She couldn't think. Not with Michael, the smell of his blood, her breast slowly closing. She didn't jump downstairs, just took her time. She didn't even notice her collar still lay on the bed. Morena curled up on her side in her coffin, the lid barely closing over her form, and let the tears roll, staining white satin. He never asked, why didn't he just ask? She would give him anything, but he had to take it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>14-03-2011, 19:46:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sitting in the room, after she had left, Michael was given to wonder if he'd ever get the opportunity to meet a woman who wasn't a bundle of nerves. He could practically hear his father's voice, always with a heavy accent no matter how long he had been living among English speakers, warning him about the generalised insanity of women. The old man had been right about a few things, although if his son had never seen the point of avoiding pork and some types of seafood. The sensible thing to do would probably involve a bushel of garlic and some sharp sticks, but he knew that he'd never muster the will to do such a thing even if he was forced to.<br><br>Descending the stairs, even against his own will, he felt each step echoing through him, bringing him down to her. He stood beside her coffin like a mourner at a wake, extending a hand with the same quiet trepidation of one about to touch a corpse, although his reasons were entirely different. Grandfather's old Austrian fairytales came flooding back on a wave of memory, as he watched his sleeping beauty, pushing back the lid as he leaned closer. "I don't want to be alone, Morena" Dipping his head, he pressed his cheek to hers, letting the crimson tears stain his flesh.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>14-03-2011, 19:55:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As the lid again opened, she stirred, eyes opening, the familiar rasp of stubble announcing just who it was. Her eyes again closed, as if to ward off pain, and she sighed. "I just wish you had asked." She whispered softly. "You know I would have done it gladly if you told me." She added, sliding out from under him to sit up, folding her legs beneath her. She looked at him silently, arms folding to cover herself. The smudge of blood ringing her areola was the only hit that he'd done something amiss. "Why didn't you just tell me what you wanted? You know how vampires - how I am. You know what that is like. I've been bitten like that before and... well... This is the result." She added, sweeping a hand down her body. "Why did you do it? Why did you change your mind?" She asked. <br><br>It hurt, as much as his denial, this hurt. Se didn't know what she wanted. Did she want him to go? No. But she didn't want him to stay either. "If you don't want to be alone you can sleep here." She finally acquiesced, "But you have to promise to ask in the future, Michael. Please..." Again, Morena found herself begging him. "Don't ever do it again without asking...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>15-03-2011, 00:45:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Learning how to deal with women had always been one of Michael's weaker points, although he suspected that no man would ever master that particular science. All he could do was sigh softly as he listened to her admonishment, his eyes flicking open as she sat up, peering at her. Admiration mingled with hunger as she sat up, and he was only too happy to gaze upon her, even if her sudden shyness stirred up old memories best left buried. It should not have amazed him that a woman who had been dead longer than he had been alive would prove to be quite so stubborn, but he had learned long ago how to make sacrifices in times of dire need.<br><br>"I promise." He didn't answer her questions because he wasn't entirely sure of the answers himself. All he knew was that he wanted her to be close, and he was willing to take drastic measures to see that need through. His arm coiled beneath her knees and around her back, lifting her carefully out of the coffin, cradling her in his embrace. "Not so much as a kiss without your express permission." He smiled, faintly, still drained from the injury that had bought a little of her sympathy before, and it was no act when he winced as he bore her gently up the stairs to return to his own room.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>15-03-2011, 14:53:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Morena let him scoop her up. She wasn't going to fight with him any more. She was already exhausted, emotionally, and tired of fighting with him. Her arms gently looped around his shoulders, holding a bit of her slight weight off of his hurt rib, and lay her head on his shoulder. "The blood will help that." She commented softly, feeling his wince pang through herself. A slow ache spanned her ribcage, and she could feel the faint echoes of bumps and bruises across her body. It was an effect of the blood, as well. She could feel when he was hurt, and he may feel when she was. It was different with every person. She would be able to tell where he was, when she was elsewhere, too. If she concentrated, she would even be able to read his surface thoughts and emotions.<br><br>As they reached the bedroom, she looked up to him, shifting to be set down, silent, waiting for him to explain why he'd brought her back. She knew there was a reason past 'he wanted her company'. That was hogwash, and she wasn't stupid enough to fall for it. If he wanted her company, he would sit with her while he read once in a while, he would put his damned book down and seek her out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>15-03-2011, 18:32:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Setting Morena down carefully upon the edge of the bed, his hand reached to cup her cheek, lingering for a moment before trailing away as he turned and left the room, casting a look over his shoulder to warn her not to stir. They'd been together long enough to get by quite well without words, but he left nothing to chance as he went downstairs once more.<br><br>He returned bearing that her discarded collar in one hand, and under his arm the small wooden chest that contained a good many of the toys they had collected to meet their more unusual needs. Setting the chest down upon the bedside locker, he turned to her, reaching up to fit the collar snugly around her throat, cupping her cheek to tilt her head back as he peered down at her. "I know what's wrong, Morena, my love." He found it difficult to focus with her quite so close, but he let his mind drift into unfamiliar territory, slowly weaving his own magic out of the blood they had shared. "I have been neglecting you." His fingers rose, getting a tight hold on her hair as he pulled her up, his lips mashing against hers as he simply took what he wanted without the slightest hint of hesitation.<br><br>Letting the power flood through him was ecstasy, and he did not resist the desire to draw blood from the kiss, biting his own lips and hers in his hunger. It was a strange to feel that unnatural strength surging through his body, brushing away the pain of the broken rib, and he found himself basking in the dark glow. He almost could not find the will to tear his hand from her hip to reach for the chest, his fingertips fumbling with the clasp as he tried to focus despite her.<br><br>It was only a brief distraction, however, and just as he broke from the kiss, his fingertips found the little ring mounted upon the clasp of her collar, attaching the end of the lead he had constructed for the purpose. He doubted that she would have ever allowed him to put it on, but he was in the sort of mood that helped him to ignore her own opinions in the interest of helping both of them get out of the particular emotional tangle they'd stumbled into.<br><br>Coiling the strap around his hand, which moved to her shoulder, he forced her down to her knees, his gaze bright with an intensity that made it quite obvious that he would brook no insolence for the time being. Later, perhaps, he would listen to her berate him for being quite so inconsiderate as to her feelings, but that would come after they had the time to work off some tension. "Not one word out of that sweet lips until I've finished with them." The words were spoken with a growl, but he was merely firm when he guided her head closer to him, letting her lips brush against the head of his cock.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>16-03-2011, 23:32:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Morena sat, in place, as he exited the room, knowing that look. Her hands folded in her lap, and she looked down. If her heart pumped more than once a minute, it would have been pounding from nervousness. He was right, she did need the sort of things that followed that look, but it didn't stop her nervousness. It never did. She would hurt, she would give herself to him, and he would take it all. He would likely end up hurt as well, though in a different way. Her eyes tracked his return, and she swallowed as he set the chest down, her chin lifting as he reattached her collar, his hand laying across her satin cheek. <br><br>As he murmured to her, her heart gave a painful thud. He'd never called her 'my love' before. Did that mean he love her too? He'd never returned the sentiment before. Her mouth opened slightly, ignoring the rest of what he said, preparing to ask, before his fingers curled tightly in her hair, dragging her up. She followed the wordless instruction, a moan escaping her lips as his lips bruised hers, ignoring his previous comment for not so much as a kiss without her express permission, their blood mingling in a heady cocktail. She couldn't stem the noises that escaped her, as he kissed her, panting unnecessarily as he broke the kiss, her lips already swollen.<br><br>Her jaw dropped, as his hand coiled in the leash, pushing her down. Her knees bent, head tilting back to look at him wordlessly, humiliation burning in her cheeks at the collar. It was almost too much. Her eyes lowered, as he pulled her closer, lips brushing against the head of his cock. One hand rose, sliding up his thigh to wrap around the base, squeezing softly as her tongue darted out, tasting his tip, sliding against it, circling the underside of his glans, flicking against it. Slowly, she lowered her mouth onto it, sucking gently as her hand stroked up to kiss her lips, sliding back down, tongue dancing complicated patterns against his skin, pressing him against the roof of her mouth, and sliding back.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>17-03-2011, 17:45:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Power had always been Michael's vice of choice, he'd spent almost every waking moment of his life hunting it, devouring sorcery with an insatiable hunger that would have put his darling's bloodlust to shame. The feeling coursing through his veins was new, however, and utterly beyond anything else he had ever experienced. It surpassed the first taste of magic, the fear and fury of the War, the thrill of the hunts they shared together. He explored it with the same tentative delicacy with which his dear Morena brought her wonderful lips to bear upon him, letting the darkness uncoil within his soul to be shaped according to the dictates of his will.<br><br>Throwing his head back, his lips framed a low, rough moan as he let the glorious sensations wash over him, amazed at his own sensitivity to her touch. He had never imagined that his senses could be quite so sharp, the taste and the scent of her filling his world, the feel of her quite so close making his heart race. He knew that he was being a selfish bastard, but that could be easily rectified, his darling had never been shy about revealing her own proclivities. Though her pleasure would most certainly lead to her expressing her gratitude most eagerly, he did have a genuine desire to make her forget her troubles, if only for a little while.<br><br>He pulled away from her, pressing a fingertip to her lips to quiet her as he turned, taking a seat upon the edge of the bed, and he smiled as he guided her to kneel between his legs, letting the lead fall away so that he could encircle her throat with his hands, drawing her up into a deep, loving kiss. He told himself that he was simply playing to her weaknesses, trading the appearance of affection for the more tangible rewards of lust, but that required him to work twice as hard to ignore the deep contentment and satisfaction that came simply from having her near.<br><br>Freeing her, eventually, he watched intently as she resumed her work, reaching out with one hand towards the nearby chest. He knew just what he wanted, for it was her favourite toy, a long wooden handled whip, each tail a short, broad strip of soft leather just right for enticing her into deeper passions. Letting the leather thongs brush lightly over her hip was all the signal she would need to lift her rear a little higher to allow him to flog that pale flesh.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>18-03-2011, 05:40:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His moan sent shivers down Morena's spine, and she smiled around him, eyelashes shading the pleasure from her eyes. She was the one eliciting those moans from him, she was the reason he couldn't, or wouldn't keep his voice in check. It was a small victory for her, and she would never cease to be pleased that she could at least make Michael Solomon, the power addict moan. Her eyes raised, as he pulled back, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hands placed on the floor, and with shoulders and hips rolling, she crawled the two steps to return between his legs, looking at him with a hunger that had nothing to do with the blood in his veins. She rose to her knees, feeling the strength behind his grip that he had once lacked, a smile forming on now blood red, bruised lips, the bite marks from earlier already disappeared. <br><br>Her lips danced against his, as he pressed against her, hands resting on his thighs, her nails lightly scratching, not hurting with the gentle grazes. Her mouth opened beneath his, tongue mingling against his, as if hers was trying to seduce his, before again, he freed her. Her head bent to recapture his member, tongue exploring him, tracking from the slight cleft between his balls all the way up to flick across his tip, again circling his glans before pressing him into her mouth, tongue embracing him. Her head began to bob, as she felt the seductive brush of the tines of the flogger. Her back ached down, presenting her ass to him as she continued, bracing one hand on his thigh, her free hand cupping his balls, gently massaging them as she worked to take him as far into her mouth as she could. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>18-03-2011, 17:53:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was quite tempting to simply lay back and enjoy his lover's touch, but that would have robbed him of the chance to admire the sight of her at play. He watched that pale, utterly adorable behind rise to meet his coaxing, biting back a smile as he realised just how much she deserved to be teased a while. The leather caressed her flesh, playing up and down her back as he let her enjoy the anticipation. For an immortal, Morena could be a most impatient creature, but there were ways and means of checking such hastiness, he was sure.<br><br>The first lash came quickly, the thongs leaving her for only a mere moment before he brought them down again, a light touch that would do little more than bring a healthy blush to her skin. His fingertips brushed lightly through her hair as he delivered another blow, teasing her between each strike with the gentle touch of the lash across the reddended flesh. It took care to time the strokes to ensure that her body did not heal entirely between them, and yet to ensure that they were spaced enough to ensure that his tantalising torture did its work. He knew that his efforts were appreciated, as the scent of her arousal rose into the air and he felt her cry out around his flesh in her mouth as he raised fresh welts upon her behind.<br><br>There was only so much a man could take, however, and he cast away the flog when his need became greater than he could stand. He tugged gently on her hair, drawing her head back so that he could meet her gaze, smiling as he brushed her cheek with the back of his freed hand. "Whatever shall we do now, my love?" His fingers ran down along her back, newly formed talons dragging ever so lightly over her pale flesh.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>18-03-2011, 18:14:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Morena whimpered around him, a shiver sliding down her spine as he dragged the leather thongs across her flesh, teasing her Her back dipped further, as she continued to slide him in and out of her mouth, tongue pressing, massaging and laving his underside. As the first strike fell, she stiffened, gasping around him, before the next fell, pausing in her tracks, before a moan escaped her, the heavy lashes falling with only a hint of sting across her ass and thighs. She knew her ass would colour, welts raising as he continued, and she resumed with a vigor. Her hand moved, encircling the base of his shaft, and she slid it up with her head, kissing her fist before she descended, running it down as an extension of her mouth.<br><br>She moaned, gasped, and yelped around him, always careful of her teeth, as the lashes fell, again and again, her arousal flaring, the scent of her dancing through the air. As his hand curled in her hair, and pulled her back, she looked up at him, a disheveled Madonna, eyes blank, and mouth open.She shivered deliciously as his hand brushed her cheek lightly, turning her face to press into the caress. Again, he called her his love, and that perhaps gave her the most pleasure of all. Her stomach clenched in glee, and a smile tilted her lips.<br><br>"Whatever you desire," She replied simply. He was as strong as her, now. He wouldn't die. He called her his love. She moaned softly, as his nails raked down her flesh, the delicious graze forcing her eyes closed, her back to arch against the touch. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>19-03-2011, 03:16:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The lead was coiled around his hand once more, leaving only couple of feet of slackness for her to move with as he moved into the middle of the bed, sitting with his back to the headboard, legs outstretched. He beckoned to Morena, a playful grin upon his lips as he applied a gentle pressure to coax her up to join him. What he wished for was hardly a mystery, her tender touch had given her most favourite toy all the encouragement it needed to stand proudly erect for her, jutting towards the ceiling as he awaited her presence in his lap. He recognised her need, for even if the scent wasn't rolling across his mind like a thunderstom the same hunger was making every fibre of his being ache.<br><br>The pain was intense, as he felt the unnatural changes forcing his canines to lengthen, and inexperience led him to cut his own lips and tongue, adding the scent of his blood to the air, though he found that he found no satisfaction in the taste of his own. "I want you." The tone was poised between a plea and a command, his tongue scarlet as it flicked out to moisten his lips. He knew that just one taste of her would ease that dull fire in his throat, just as much as he knew that one taste would never, ever be enough.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>24-03-2011, 22:17:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Morena followed him across the bed, the lead never once tightening, as she settled in his lap, his member cradled between her thighs, as she leaned close. Her nostrils flared, as the scent of his blood again drifted, and she moaned softly, pressing her lips to his, her tongue flicking out to gather the red blood. "Then take me..." She replied softly, rising on her knees to position herself carefully over his member, one hand dragging down his chest to wrap around him, guiding the tip between her lips, and slowly lowering herself. She gasped deeply as he filled her, her head tilting back with the delicious feeling. <br><br>As she came to rest on his lap once again, her head tilted to look at him, her eyes dark pools of lust. She panted softly, as she began to rock her hips, riding him as her arms encircled his shoulders, pressing her chest to his as she pressed her lips to his shoulder, muffling the soft noises escaping from her throat. Her hair fell to brush his skin, and her knees presed against his hips, though she was careful to keep her touch light, unsure of whether he would break under her touch or not, any more.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>26-03-2011, 02:10:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Michael threw back his head, his throat trembling as a low moan was torn from him with her descent, his hands rising to take a firm hold of her hips as she took him deep within. His gaze was fixed upon her as watched her offer her throat to him even as their bodies pressed so intimately together, and, were it not for the sheer pleasure of the union, he would have been all too happy to take a taste of the offered flesh. As it was, it was all he could dow to guide her with a gentle pressure in the touch upon her hips, his own legs moving to brace himself on the bed, allowing his hips to rise to meet her.<br><br>In love though he was, he knew that she needed a firmer touch, and the heel of his hand thudded sharply against Morena's plump behind as he sought to coax her along at a more vigorous pace. It was clear that the delicate prickling of his nails upon her skin was not enough to free her from her inhibitions, but he found that his instincts were only too happy to tell him what she needed.<br><br>His lips brushed her throat, his feverish breaths caressing her skin as he purred his need. "I need a taste." The tips of ivory fangs grazed her skin, his mouth trembling with barely controlled desire, as though all that stood between her and a savage bite was his love for her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>10-04-2011, 19:51:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Morena gasped, as his hand smacked against her rear, her inner muscles tightening around him with the shock. Her hips rolled, rather than rose and fell, a constant cycle paired with his thrusting. And as his breath gusted against her throat, his lips brushing softly, she shuddered, a moan rising from her chest. "Please," she whispered, her fingers tightening against his flesh, nails scoring his skin lightly. She hadn't been bitten in years, much less when she was riding, or being ridden. It was like a drug to be bitten, pleasure more intense than one could imagine. She'd missed it. "Michael, please..." Her voice was soft, nearly a sob, as her hips rolled, faster than before, coaxing him, inner muscles tightening around him, trying to milk out his orgasm, and hers.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nykteus</strong> on <strong>19-04-2011, 20:08:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Michael could not hope to resist those pleas, and at her insistence, he was only too happy to do what his body had been trembling to. His thrusts ceased, suddenly, as the tips of his fangs pricked her throat lightly, before a stronger pressure had him slicing into the pale flesh, a moan muffled as he clamped his lips down upon her skin to avoid spilling a drop of the crimson ambrosia. He let the inner predator guide him, biting down hard until he felt that his teeth could go no further, and he suckled hungrily to let the taste of her pour down his throat.<br><br>With great care not to dislodge her, he rolled over, pinning her beneath him as he rose to kneel between the creamy perfection of her thighs, somehow managing not to slip free of her body despite the motion. He began to use his newfound power to match the loving ferocity of claiming her blood with strong, powerful thrusts, his hips crashing against hers with each stroke, with such force that would break a lesser woman's bones. He knew that Morena could take it, that she needed, wanted a monster, for the time being, even one that loved her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Power, shackled. (Nykteus and Subtle Trouble)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>26-04-2011, 21:36:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Morena's moan echoed his a split second later as his teeth penetrated her neck, the feeling of his breath, still hot, on her neck. She clutched him, rolling cooperatively as he moved them. Her eyes were closed, mouth a mask of ecstasy as he rose above her, his hips slamming savagely into hers with force to bruise even her tough flesh. She couldn't even track the noises coming from her throat as he drank, fucking her for the first time ever. Her nails scored his still weak skin, careful not to cut too deep, as she felt herself spasm, already coming around him as he thrust against her hard. Her face buried against his neck, presssing, even as she resisted biting him without permission.<br><br>One hand left his back, diving into the crevice between the mattress and the headboard to find the long, thin knife she'd hidden there years ago. She would kill him tonight, and he would be hers forever. He would be strong, maybe even as strong as she, but she didn't care. Let him take his revenge when he was immortal. It was easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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