(Trigger Warning! nsfw, non-con, rape, blood, maybe something else that I'm forgetting right now. Happy Valentine's Day, my friend. c:)
To play with death
It had been a while since he had come to me. A hint of surprise showed on my pale visage - a mere show for the eager audience that had found their way into my chambers. If truth be told, I had never doubted he would return. He always did. That was the benefitf a dog, they were loyal to the bone, bound to return to their masters many and many times, no matter how hard they struck them. You do not bite the hand that feeds you – I know of that rule very well myself. His fair skin would still show the faint marks that I had adorned him with weeks ago. Oh, how beautiful it would look, glistening with the tiniest drops of scarlet. Soon, he would give himself to me once more, like he always did.
A subtle smirk carved itself into my mien as he nonchalantly dropped onto my deep red lounge. Despite his attempts of seeming ever so careless, I could still sense his everlasting vigilance. His gaze never left my person, not even for a brief moment. He knew the dangers of the predator whose den he ventured into over and over again by his own will. No matter how imprudent the assassin seemed, he never dared to leave only a single stain on the luxurious cushioning. I had not needed to teach him so much.
Patience has never been a virtue of mine. He must have felt my faint touch in his veins as he shifted in his seat. Nimble hands loosened the maroon scarf he wore around his muscular, yet slender neck, revealing the soft flesh beneath. I brought the immaculately polished glass of winer close to my lips, filling myself with the intoxicating liquid within, licking my lips clean of even the last drop. I had always been affluent but hardly ever wasteful. That was a lesson that I had to learn, long years ago.
The dragonblade around his wrist idly reflected the dim candlelight that lit the room. The quiet was only broken by the soft sound of glass setting on a smooth surface, safe from the storm that was about to rise. When I rose to my feet, my dark-haired companion followed with utter obedience.
A sharp movement, yet hardly unexpected, prompted me to turn – just in time before my back collided with the closest wall. My brows rose expectantly as the air was so forcefully knocked out of my lungs. I felt the familiar, cool metal against my skin, relishing the sensation as it left the finest cut as it was lifted ever so slightly. That was when the room was truly filled with silence. The crimson rush that was so prominent before deserted me and all that was left was the warm breath of the man I shared this dance with.
I sucked it in through my teeth greedily, thousands of witty remarks filling my mind in an instant and yet my lips were sealed. Any word would have been wasted so long as the silence lingered between us. My scarlet eyes followed his every movement as he restricted my movement carefully with his strong grasp. With an almost playful ease, his blade cut through my waistcoat and the silken shirt beneath, staining the delicate fabric in a bright crimson as my skin tore open beneath it. Delirious from the sensation, my mind could not anticipate it as his pointed teeth found their way into my neck, drawing blood once more. An inaudible gasp left my lips when his eager tounge harboured what surged forth from the broken skin.
It was only when I could sense the faint sound of a heartbeat returning to my senses that I felt them go numb again. Mild irritation rose inside me, only to be matched by a smug smirk, much like the one I was fond of wearing. I felt myself struggle against the iron grasp, but it was to no avail. His dagger tore through my garments with ease, leaving shallow red lines on my flesh where it had entered. The calloused fingers felt rough against my smooth skin, skillfully carving patterns into my body.
I felt myself grow weaker beneath his touch as the crimson bloom surged forth from my wounds. My source of power, restriced by sheer force, unreachable for me. The tables had turned for this one time only. He forced his lips against my own, and for an instance the warm, wet sensation felt awfully pleasant - though I would never dare to admit it. All the while, the deadly blade rested against my chest, holding my body in place by its sheer presence. I panted hard when he left me, but only for a second before crashing into me again, claiming my sealed tounge, entwining it with his own.
The assassin approached further, pressing the cold, iron buckles of his chestplate into my bare flesh. I sensed his rough touch on my hips, liberating me from the fatal threat at my carotid shortly just before he returned his attention to my neck, adorning it with dark purplish bruises. It was only when he tore away the remainder of my clothes that my hazed mind snapped. A dark glare filled my visage and I pressed against his grasp with all of my force, but it was to no avail. A deep chuckle emerged from his throat as he drew me closer, invading my body with his own. His fiery eyes rested on mine as he dug into me, slowly advancing as he went. Quiet moans left my mouth, my eyes a burning scarlet, prepared to ravage him in his full existance if only he let me.
Carefully, he disregarded my own arousal until the very end, bestowing me with the sweetest release only when he saw it fit. Physically emaciated, I slumped back against the wall at the very first opportunity that was given to me. Dizzy from the bloodloss, my vision dimmed and my lids fell shut. Only then, a seemingly far-off sound returned to my fading consciousness. The silence had been lifted. Without even as much as a command, my broken skin began mending itself, bruises faded one by one, leaving not even the slightest trace of what had occured.
My lips curled in displeasure when it dawned to me that it was only my own heartbeat that I sensed. I sunk to the hard mahagony floor.
I had been toying with death all along.
A manic laughter burst from my chest.
The dog had been a wolf in sheep's skin all along. It was always more appealing to dance with an equal.
no subject
To play with death
It had been a while since he had come to me. A hint of surprise showed on my pale visage - a mere show for the eager audience that had found their way into my chambers. If truth be told, I had never doubted he would return. He always did. That was the benefitf a dog, they were loyal to the bone, bound to return to their masters many and many times, no matter how hard they struck them. You do not bite the hand that feeds you – I know of that rule very well myself. His fair skin would still show the faint marks that I had adorned him with weeks ago. Oh, how beautiful it would look, glistening with the tiniest drops of scarlet. Soon, he would give himself to me once more, like he always did.
A subtle smirk carved itself into my mien as he nonchalantly dropped onto my deep red lounge. Despite his attempts of seeming ever so careless, I could still sense his everlasting vigilance. His gaze never left my person, not even for a brief moment. He knew the dangers of the predator whose den he ventured into over and over again by his own will. No matter how imprudent the assassin seemed, he never dared to leave only a single stain on the luxurious cushioning. I had not needed to teach him so much.
Patience has never been a virtue of mine. He must have felt my faint touch in his veins as he shifted in his seat. Nimble hands loosened the maroon scarf he wore around his muscular, yet slender neck, revealing the soft flesh beneath. I brought the immaculately polished glass of winer close to my lips, filling myself with the intoxicating liquid within, licking my lips clean of even the last drop. I had always been affluent but hardly ever wasteful. That was a lesson that I had to learn, long years ago.
The dragonblade around his wrist idly reflected the dim candlelight that lit the room. The quiet was only broken by the soft sound of glass setting on a smooth surface, safe from the storm that was about to rise. When I rose to my feet, my dark-haired companion followed with utter obedience.
A sharp movement, yet hardly unexpected, prompted me to turn – just in time before my back collided with the closest wall. My brows rose expectantly as the air was so forcefully knocked out of my lungs. I felt the familiar, cool metal against my skin, relishing the sensation as it left the finest cut as it was lifted ever so slightly. That was when the room was truly filled with silence. The crimson rush that was so prominent before deserted me and all that was left was the warm breath of the man I shared this dance with.
I sucked it in through my teeth greedily, thousands of witty remarks filling my mind in an instant and yet my lips were sealed. Any word would have been wasted so long as the silence lingered between us. My scarlet eyes followed his every movement as he restricted my movement carefully with his strong grasp. With an almost playful ease, his blade cut through my waistcoat and the silken shirt beneath, staining the delicate fabric in a bright crimson as my skin tore open beneath it. Delirious from the sensation, my mind could not anticipate it as his pointed teeth found their way into my neck, drawing blood once more. An inaudible gasp left my lips when his eager tounge harboured what surged forth from the broken skin.
It was only when I could sense the faint sound of a heartbeat returning to my senses that I felt them go numb again. Mild irritation rose inside me, only to be matched by a smug smirk, much like the one I was fond of wearing. I felt myself struggle against the iron grasp, but it was to no avail. His dagger tore through my garments with ease, leaving shallow red lines on my flesh where it had entered. The calloused fingers felt rough against my smooth skin, skillfully carving patterns into my body.
I felt myself grow weaker beneath his touch as the crimson bloom surged forth from my wounds. My source of power, restriced by sheer force, unreachable for me. The tables had turned for this one time only. He forced his lips against my own, and for an instance the warm, wet sensation felt awfully pleasant - though I would never dare to admit it. All the while, the deadly blade rested against my chest, holding my body in place by its sheer presence. I panted hard when he left me, but only for a second before crashing into me again, claiming my sealed tounge, entwining it with his own.
The assassin approached further, pressing the cold, iron buckles of his chestplate into my bare flesh. I sensed his rough touch on my hips, liberating me from the fatal threat at my carotid shortly just before he returned his attention to my neck, adorning it with dark purplish bruises. It was only when he tore away the remainder of my clothes that my hazed mind snapped. A dark glare filled my visage and I pressed against his grasp with all of my force, but it was to no avail. A deep chuckle emerged from his throat as he drew me closer, invading my body with his own. His fiery eyes rested on mine as he dug into me, slowly advancing as he went. Quiet moans left my mouth, my eyes a burning scarlet, prepared to ravage him in his full existance if only he let me.
Carefully, he disregarded my own arousal until the very end, bestowing me with the sweetest release only when he saw it fit. Physically emaciated, I slumped back against the wall at the very first opportunity that was given to me. Dizzy from the bloodloss, my vision dimmed and my lids fell shut. Only then, a seemingly far-off sound returned to my fading consciousness. The silence had been lifted. Without even as much as a command, my broken skin began mending itself, bruises faded one by one, leaving not even the slightest trace of what had occured.
My lips curled in displeasure when it dawned to me that it was only my own heartbeat that I sensed. I sunk to the hard mahagony floor.
I had been toying with death all along.
A manic laughter burst from my chest.
The dog had been a wolf in sheep's skin all along. It was always more appealing to dance with an equal.