With the sort of nearly perfect stillness that could only come from one who had left breathing behind long ago, Murial du Sang sat nearly motionless in the shadowy expanse of her bedroom, perched on a decadently soft chair lined in velvet as she stared unblinkingly into the mirror of her vanity, green eyes flashing like emeralds in the half light as she carefully outlined them with a cosmetic pencil. More than one person over the decades had told her that she had no need to paint her face, pointing out with a sort of disbelieving awe that her marble pale skin was absolutely perfect and free from blemishes, but she persisted regardless. While it was true that there was a perfection to her body that was almost unnatural, precisely because it was unnatural, old habits died hard and besides that she had found that a bit of deftly applied makeup could transform her beauty into something truly striking. Becoming a vampire had done far more than simply kill her and freeze her age at that exact moment. As the Blood had overtaken her, remade her, it had changed her in ways both gross and subtle. The redhead could admit that she had always been proud of her appearance, but the Embrace had taken it to all new levels. Evened out imperfections, smoothed away scars and amplified the lithe grace she had long cultivated as a dancer into a sort of predatory allure that was both enticing and frightening, a siren song that drew people to her and melted hearts with a smile. More than one of her kind had compared the effect to the colorful scales of a venomous snake, a display that lured the eye even if you knew it was dangerous. Perhaps because you knew it was dangerous. Even more than the strength to rip a door off its hinges, or the speed to cross a room in the blink of an eye, Murial considered that predatory charisma to be the greatest of her bloodline’s gifts and by far her most dangerous weapon. Other lines might possess far more fantastical powers, and indeed she had met vampires capable of some truly astonishing feats such as transforming into animals or vanishing from sight or even clouding the senses with illusions, but as impressive as those demonstrations had been she would not trade her own subtle gifts for anything in the world. Twisting your flesh into alien forms or solidifying your blood into blades of incomparable sharpness were certainly interesting tricks, but not nearly so useful, especially if you did not wish to advertise your nature to the world.
Putting the pencil down, the redhead could not help but smirk at her own thoughts as she leaned closer to the mirror to further highlight her eyes with smokey dark shadow, grateful not for the first time that tales of vampires having no reflection were just that. This would have been a much more tedious task otherwise. Perhaps she did not need makeup, but Murial had always liked to look her best and who could begrudge a lady that? Besides, it had always felt more appropriate to paint her lips red and tonight was a special night. Summer was finally gone and as Autumn unfurled itself like a great bat spreading its wings, All Hallows Eve looming on the horizon, the evening hours slowly grew longer and longer. While she might not have to fear lighting up like a candle at the faintest touch of the sun, her skin would still burn and blacken in its rays. An experience she was not keen to repeat, having endured that particular agony once already. Which was the reason why her bedroom windows were now both painted over and covered with blackout curtains in addition to the drapes that shrouded her four-post bed. Paranoid perhaps, but just because she could heal from even the most grievous injuries did not mean she wanted to. Still, all vampires celebrated this time of year as the cycle of seasons allowed them to claim more and more of the night for themselves but where elders of her kind tended to prefer formal events and tiresome ceremonies Murial much preferred to plunge into a very different sort of nightlife and revel in the heated, heart-pounding debauchery that only the mortal world was capable of.
Despite the cliché of it all, the relatively young vampire had always found the Halloween season fascinating. Watching the transition of the holiday from a relatively obscure one, celebrated only among the most traditional of communities seeking to keep evil spirits at bay or in rather formulaic ways as an excuse to give young children candy, to the wildly creative and deeply sensual displays now common the world over had been a fascinating process. True, some of the more supernaturally inclined found the whole thing trite at best, but Murial was not among them. There were so few opportunities when she could truly be herself, to let out a hint of her true nature without anyone batting an eye, how could she not love such a thing? And even if the day itself was still weeks away, people seemed to enjoy celebrating early and she saw no reason to deny herself that particular bit of indulgence. After all, the redhead had long considered herself a performer, had made a career out of it both before and after her death, and the chance to let herself go wild was just too good to pass up. Pumpkins and skeletons and all manner of macabre displays were appearing everywhere she looked while costume parties and themed events were already being advertised in venues across the city. Her own among them as Delirium began to plan its own annual Halloween celebrations. The club had a reputation, after all, and it wouldn’t do to disappoint the customers. Besides, even if Murial found her club to be a rather demanding beast at times, in the end she found that she did not mind all that much. Beyond the practical aspects of money and blood the entire experience was simply fun. It gave her a chance to indulge her fanciful side and be a performer again after having been forced off the stage so many years ago, to say nothing of the opportunities to indulge in her kinks and show off her more… sensual nature. Still, it was still nice to get away once in a while. Like tonight, when Kiera had suggested they hit the town together, to partake in the festivities and indulge both of their lusts.
Smiling widening at the thought of her lover, Murial grinned at her own reflection and turned her head left and then right to get a better look at herself. Her bright red hair had been swept back, a few stray curls left framing her face while her dreadlocks flowed over her right shoulder. It was almost amusing really. She’d grown her hair like this back in her burlesque days as part of the wild woman act she’d put on and had never really intended to keep it, but much like the rest of her appearance her hair had been frozen at the moment of her death and no matter what she did, even shaving the whole mass off once, it grew back in a matters of moments. That had bothered her once, but as time went on she’d come to rather like the wild and untamed appearance it gave her. It certainly felt appropriate given what she’d become, and who she was sleeping with. In stark contrast to that wild hair, however, her makeup was a bit more subtle. Just a hint of blush on pale cheeks and soft shadow around the eyes offset with kohl and a deep red lipstick. Striking to be sure, but also deliberately out of place with the dress she was wearing, a simple black number decorated with silver and gold sequins in an almost Art Deco style along with a pearl necklace and simple heels. A rather vintage look that most would call a “Flapper dress” but, for her, was simply an old number out of the back of her closet. Not many would believe that she’d bought it new in the 1920s, but that was part of the appeal of wearing it truth be told. To know that most would see it as a mere costume having no idea of the much more fantastic reality. It was a shame that she couldn’t wear any of her hats with it, but with her hair the way it was that would have looked ridiculous.
A pair of arms suddenly draped over her shoulders, a familiar warmth leaning against her body as an equally familiar voice caressed her ear with its low, dulcet tones, “Well now, somebody cleans up nicely.”
‘Speak of the devil and she will appear.’ Murial thought to herself as she glanced in the mirror to see the tall and shapely figure of Kiera Brennan perched behind her. As proud as the redhead was of her own appearance, even she could admit that her lover was a truly striking woman with skin the color of creamy caramel and dark hair as sinfully soft as the finest furs that, when coupled with rather unique golden brown eyes that nearly seemed to glow in the darkness, lent her a truly wild and untamed appearance. Tonight, as was so often the case, she’d left that faintly red-tinted hair loose and swept to the side while a light dusting of earth-toned cosmetics set off the features of her already dusky skin. However, much like her lover, Kiera had chosen to dress a bit more… playfully this night with a pair of charcoal gray slacks held up by matching suspenders and a stark white blouse left unbuttoned nearly to waist to show off both her toned abs and the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Just the right mix of anachronistic and flirtatious to match Murial’s own dress.
It was more than that, though. While the outfit alone would have been more than enough to make the redhead grin appreciably most nights, it was the werewolf’s casual and easy confidence that made her smile and brought the familiar tingle of arousal to her core. Kiera was not her first lover, not by a long shot. She’d taken numerous men and women to bed over the years, hell the both of them still did to keep things interesting, but in all the long decades of her life and death Murial had never met anyone quite like her mistress before or since. It wasn’t just lust that had brought them together, for all that the dusky woman was achingly beautiful, but a deep connection that just made them fit together. Rooted in the shared experiences of being both more and less than human, of being remade utterly by forces beyond your comprehension and entering a world that would have seemed utterly impossible even moments before. An understanding of what it meant to watch the years roll by, leaving you unchanged in a world that never seemed to stop moving. Of course there was desire as well, a desire so deep that it had drawn them close and bound them together without either realizing it at first. Beyond the lure of the physical, the almost instinctive hunger they’d felt for each other on that long ago night, Kiera wanted to dominate her lovers, much as Murial herself wanted to be dominated. However, neither of them wanted to play at it either and both of them were far too strong for ordinary humans to handle. It really had been a match made in heaven, the fact that they also had fun together and enjoyed each other’s company was just icing on the cake.
Realizing that she had let the silence linger on for perhaps a bit too long, Murial met her lover’s eyes and smirked into the mirror, “No need to be so hard on yourself, my dear. You clean up nicely most of the time.”
Although the barest twitch of her lips betrayed her amusement, Kiera growled deep in her throat and snaked her fingers into Murial’s hair, taking hold of a handful of those wild locks before forcing the woman’s head back, citrine and emerald meeting for the first time, “Causing trouble already?”
Very nearly moaning at that rough handling, Murial’s smile never once wavered, “And what are you going to do about it, mistress?”
“This.” Kiera replied simply, the briefest of smiles curling her lips before leaning down to silence the sitting woman with a kiss.
It was an awkward kiss to be perfectly honest, with Murial still sitting and her head pulled back sharply while her lover was practically bent over her from behind to maintain contact, but she didn’t much care. The softness of those lips, and the almost intoxicating warmth of the other woman’s body was positively delightful and this time she did moan softly as she reached up to lock her hands behind Kiera’s neck and parted her mouth to return her mistress’s passion. And yet, even as their tongues slid together in a primal dance as old as time, the redhead could not help but feel that something was off. Despite her silent invitation, her girlfriend was not deepening the kiss and when she tried to press the issue herself the dusky woman actually pulled away. Pouting at the loss of contact as Kiera smoothed her hair back into place and helped her out of the chair, Murial still could not help but smile as she watched the pretty werewolf’s eyes rake over her body with undisguised lust even if that did make her earlier reticence all the more confusing.
Reaching up to run pale fingers through her lover’s sinfully soft hair, the vampire smiled just enough to show just a hint of fang, “Like what you see?”
“Always.” Kiera answered without hesitation, voice low and silky smooth in the half light as she reached up to take that hand and twine their fingers together, “But it feels like something is missing.”
Freeing that hand from her hair, Kiera kissed pale knuckles before reaching into her pocket to withdraw a slender choker. It was a simple thing mostly, a strip of black leather with a clasp at the back, but on the front was a small disk, a stylized rose made of gold and carnelian that almost perfectly matched the tattoo on Murial’s arm. Lifting her hair up out of the way at that silent signal, the vampire offered no resistance as the band was fastened around her neck, her lover toying with it until that metal rose sat right at the hollow of her throat. Satisfied, the dusky woman flashed a smile of her own, ivory teeth and sharpened canines gleaming in the shadows, “There we are. Now everyone will know you’re mine.”
It was hard to explain to someone who had never experienced it, but the act of being collar, being claimed, touched something deep in Murial’s soul. An experience only amplified by the sheer possessiveness in her mistress’s tone and the woman felt a warmth spread through her chest that was almost as intense as the heady rush of hot blood down her throat. A thin but genuine smile curled pale, painted lips as her voice fell to nearly a whisper, “Always.”
“And don’t you forget it.” Kiera almost purred as she leaned in to give her lover another kiss, nipping playfully at her lower lip with a faint growl before nuzzling her cheek affectionately, “Ready to go?”
“Ready.” Murial returned, biting her lip impishly against the warm sensation of her mistress’s skin against her own, a playful spark dancing in her eyes as she teased, “Unless a certain brute smeared my lipstick.”
Surprise briefly flashed in the taller woman’s golden brown eyes, but Kiera just as quickly mastered the emotion and put on a scowl though the way the corners of her lips twitched as she struggled to keep from smiling betrayed her amusement. Regardless, she again snaked her fingers into the redhead’s hair and gripped tightly even as she pulled the slender woman close, voice low and dangerous and brimming with sensuous promise, “Your makeup’s fine, pet. But if you’re a very good girl I’ll put those lips to much better use later.”
Had she still been alive Murial knew her heart would have been racing in her chest and her face likely as red as her hair. Even now she felt shiver run down her spine as she practically breathed, “Yes, mistress.”
Grinning triumphantly, Kiera darted in for one last kiss and ran a hand down her lover’s back to cup her ass, “Good. Now, let’s paint the town red.”
Moaning appreciable at that delightful combination of gentle touch and rough handling, Murial grinned but said nothing as Kiera finally disentangled herself and offered her arm in a rather gentlemanly fashion. Looping their elbows together, the redhead just nodded her head and remained silent as she was slowly led out of the bedroom, down the stairs and toward the front door. Truth be told the vampire had never been particularly sentimental about housing. She’d lived in everything from cramped apartments to opulent mansions and rundown hovels in her life, but there was something about this house, one of a number of revitalized and gentrified tenements in the old downtown district, that tickled her fancy. It wasn’t her only home, she’d invested in a few other properties over the years from out of the way apartments to unobtrusive houses should they ever be needed. Hell, even Kiera kept a cabin tucked by the lake for those nights she wanted to let the wolf loose, but there was just something about this place that made it her favorite. Perhaps it reminded her of her childhood when she’d lived in a similar, if much more run down, house with her mother and siblings. Perhaps it was the mix of antiquated and modern that seemed to suffuse the entire house and, in some ways, reflected her own existence. Perhaps it was the fact that Kiera had chosen to live here with her. Whatever the case, as she passed through the living room, taking in the old black and white photos hung on the walls and the almost eclectic collection of furniture she had gathered over the decades, Murial could not help but smile as a wave of pleasant nostalgia washed over her.
Pushing those thoughts aside as they approached the front door, Murial leaned against her girlfriend’s pleasantly warm body as they made their way onto the porch and stepped out into the cool night air. The moon was full in the sky, which seemed appropriate given the season, with only the barest wisps of cloud to hide behind, gentle light cutting through the darkness and illuminating the path. It was cold, cold enough to fog the breath, but neither of them paid much mind. The undead hardly cared about the weather, after all, and even in their human skin a werewolf’s body was practically a furnace. As such, neither of the seemingly young women saw a reason to not walk, choosing to enjoy the night for what it was and take in the atmosphere as they slowly made their way deeper into the city. Eager for the festivities ahead, but in no real hurry to get there. It was funny in a way, but as they strode through the shadows between streetlights, Murial could not help but muse on how she had never actually seen the city in daylight. Oh, she had seen pictures in the news of course, but it just wasn’t the same. Some part of her had always assumed that she’d grow to miss the sun in time, to miss the life and vigor of the daylight hours, but that had never happened. It was something that she had pondered in her younger years but had eventually just grown to accept. Perhaps it was simply natural, such as it was, for creatures of the night to be comfortable in its embrace. Then again she’d always found the night to be far more intriguing even in her mortal days. There was an honesty to the darkness that she found compelling, a willingness to cast aside inhibitions and embrace one’s true desires that seemed to vanish in the light of day. An honesty that had always drawn her in. Perhaps she’d always been destined for the Embrace then, or maybe she just had a poet’s soul underneath it all.
Whatever the case, as the pair made their way down the sidewalk, past the rows and rows of well kept but bland apartment buildings, the crowds growing thicker and thicker as more interesting establishments began to pop up, the redhead curled against her lover’s side and glanced up to meet Kiera’s golden brown gaze out of the corner of her eye, “You know, you never did tell me where we’re going.”
“That’s because it was supposed to be a surprise.” Kiera replied even as she adjusted her grip to hold the slender but shapely woman closer.
“Are you certain I can’t change your mind?” Murial pressed, shifting her position just enough to let her lips brush against the taller woman’s ear, voice dropping into a breathy, sensuous whisper, “I can make it worth your while.”
Although she had far too much self control to show it openly, a tiny shiver ran through the dusky woman’s body, the faintest of glints entering her eyes as she regarded the pale redhead for a moment, “I’ll hold you to that, pet.”
Pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin behind her lover’s ear, Murial grinned, “Anything you like, mistress. Anything at all.”
“I’ll definitely hold you to that.” Kiera mused before shaking her head fondly and letting out a soft sight, “Oh very well. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall called the Cat’s Eye club. Interesting place, reminds me of where we first met.”
Although intrigued, Murial could not help but wrinkle her nose ever so slightly, “That filthy speakeasy in Chicago that reeked of bathtub gin and stale cigars?”
Having not expected that particular response of all things, Kiera broke out laughing. A deep, throaty chuckle that took her several moments to get under control before she managed a reply, “I was reminded more of the atmosphere. A nice, out of the way place where you can meet the most interesting people.”
“Like a fierce, achingly beautiful woman with fire in her eyes tossing a grabby drunk over the bar?” Murial prompted with a smile.
“Or a porcelain beauty holding court from atop a piano as she sings her heart out?” Kiera continued with a grin of her own.
“Good times.” the redhead agreed before brushing their lips together and pressing a kiss to the corner of her mistress’s mouth, “I look forward to it.”
Rather than answer with words, Kiera just regarded her lover for a moment, her smile morphing into a smirk before pouncing. Catching the redhead mid-stride, she grabbed Murial by the hips and spun her about before pushing the slender woman up against the brick facade of a nearby building. Eyes wide with surprise as she collided with the rough stonework, Murial had no time to react before she felt the weight of her mistress’s warm, curvy body press against her own, pinning her in place. Looking up into the dusky woman’s face, ivory teeth standing out sharply in the darkness as her grin widened, the vampire felt her mouth go dry at the raw hunger on display there. Cupping the slightly shorter woman’s cheeks with strong yet slender fingers, Kiera leaned in and again captured those lips in a kiss. Despite the pleasant heat of her mistress’s hands, and the almost sinful softness of her lips, Murial struggled for a moment, resisting the other woman’s passions as she tried to maintain control but it mattered little. No matter how hard she tried there was not enough leverage to escape, especially against Kiera’s own impressive strength, and so she surrendered to her mistress’s dominance after a moment or two, submitting to the werewolf’s ardor even as she threw her arms around the other woman’s powerful body and traced the lines of her back. Parting her lips to allow an eager tongue to plunder her mouth again, the redhead moaned softly and tightened her grip, clinging to her lover’s statuesque form as if her life depended on it.
Nipping at the pale woman’s lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood and eliciting a quiet gasp of pleasure, Kiera growled low in her throat as she pulled herself back from the brink, “Enough. We’re going to be late if we don’t get moving.”
Her blood up now, and feeling more than a little feisty, Murial let her fangs out and darted in for another kiss, scraping her lover’s skin with sharpened canines, “Well mistress, it’s not my fault you can’t control your libido.”
“Leech,” the dusky woman groused playfully, grinning even as a ruby red drop of blood seeped from the corner of her lip, the wound closing almost instantly despite that, “Behave, or I’ll put you over my knee.”
“Promises, promises.” Murial teased.
Shaking her head, Kiera just sighed fondly and tugged her lover away from the wall in one smooth motion. Pulling the pale woman to her side once more, she began to stride down the sidewalk again without comment, gently stroking a shapely hip through the thin material of the redhead’s dress as they went. Compared to the thrill of their earlier banter, to say nothing of that kiss, the walk was almost boring for all that she enjoyed her mistress’s touch, but even so Murial found that she didn’t much mind as she curled up against the woman’s side and watched the world go by with a faint smile on her face. Time seemed to drift away as they hit their rhythm and slowly but surely worked their way ever deeper into the collection of clubs, cafes and boutiques that made up the downtown district, crowds growing thicker and thicker with every step as fellow revelers eager to enjoy the night joined them. Eventually, after turning what seemed like an almost dizzying array of corners, they arrived at their destination, an almost plain one-story building of brick and mortar sitting just back away from the street and surrounded by a sea of cracked asphalt. At a glance the club, the Cat’s Eye, was nothing special. Indeed, if not for the smokey glass windows lining the front wall and a faded red door above which hung a sign painted with the silhouette of a cat outlined with curving red neon tube she would have easily dismissed it as just one more nondescript building that seemed to populate the neighborhood like weeds. The sort of place that hundreds passed by every day and thought nothing of. Reinforcing that notion there was no line of people waiting for entry, no doorman, no barriers of any kind. It seemed though small groups did mill about the parking lot talking on cell phones or smoking or waiting for a ride in the gloom. Honestly, if not for that neon sign Murial might well have assumed the building was abandoned, but her girlfriend walked right up to that red door and pushed it open without pause.
The first thing that she noticed when crossing that threshold was how dark the interior was, almost shocking so with nothing more than recessed bulbs over the bar itself to provide illumination along with strings of faerie lights hung from the ceiling and a few jack-o-lanterns scattered about. Not that it bothered her of course, a creature of the night had little to fear from the darkness after all, but still surprising in its own way. Then there was the heat, a wave of warmth that slammed into her skin with all the force of a tidal way in shocking contrast to the cool, crisp air outside and carrying with it the thick scent of smoke and alcohol underlined by that indescribable sense of humanity. A combination which made her smile widen ever so slightly and reminded the redhead of nights long past and places long gone. Beyond that the place felt cramped, as if every conceivable surface was filled with something. Numerous small tables dominated the floor and padded benches lined the walls while a horde of people sat or stood in small groups filling almost every conceivable space as they nursed drinks and lost themselves in any one of a dozen conversations. Over that din music could be heard echoing from an antique jukebox that stood like a sentinel in the corner next to a small space set aside as a dance floor. Beyond that a thin gloss of Halloween had been laid over top. Fake spider’s webs stretched over the windows, plastic skulls and rubber bats hanging from the ceiling, and of course the wild and celebratory attire of the patrons themselves.
As she took in that atmosphere, Kiera loosened her embrace and offered a knowing grin as she took her lover by the hand and began to weave her way through that crowd with all the predatory grace she could manage. Reaching the bar itself in less than a dozen steps, the dusky woman finally let go completely and leaned up against that slab of polished wood while Murial carefully lowered herself into a conveniently empty stool, crossing her legs almost demurely in sharp contrast to the amount of cleavage her dress exposed and a little surprised at how comfortable the seat actually was as she settled into place. As if summoned by their presence a bartender, a young woman with her hair twisted up in a bun and clad in a black t-shirt that bore the club’s logo on the front, stepped up to the pair with a smile.
“Can I get you ladies anything?”
Kiera glanced at the collection of bottles along the back wall for a brief moment before nodding, “Scotch on the rocks.”
“Ah, a fan of the classics.” the woman noted with a playful wink before turning her gaze on the pale redhead, “And for you, miss?”
Glancing up at the young woman, and fighting the urge to smile at the way her vivid green eyes kept flickering toward Kiera, Murial almost demurred before a thought occurred to her. It was a night for celebration, after all, and the sense of nostalgia in the air was making her a touch sentimental, “Can you make a gimlet?”
“Gin and lime cordial?” the bartender asked, waiting for confirmation before nodding with another smile, “Right away.”
“Well now,” the redhead murmured, keeping her voice low as the pretty young bartender slipped away to make their drinks, “not even five minutes and already the girls are flirting with you.”
There was something almost smug in Kiera’s expression as a satisfied smirk curled the dusky woman’s lips, “What can I say? Must be the animal magnetism.”
Scoffing quietly under her breath even as the faintest twitch of a smile tugged at her own lips, Murial began to run her fingers over the surface of the bar, sensitive skin easily distinguishing the grain in the wood alongside numerous scuffs and scratches from years of hard use, “What do you think?”
“She’s definitely cute.” Kiera mused, golden brown eyes unashamedly roaming over the young woman in question, especially the way her jeans clung to her hips, “But we’d need to make a night of it.”
“True.” Murial agreed with a tiny smirk, “Best not to be hasty, but something to keep in mind in any case.”
Kiera opened her mouth to respond, but before she could the bartender returned and set a squat glass of amber colored liquid on a napkin in front of her and a flute of bright, cloudy green next to her red haired companion, “Please enjoy, and if need anything else don’t hesitate to let me know.”
As her mistress thanked the woman, and slid a few bills across the counter to pay, Murial carefully took her glass’s long stem between delicate fingers and swirled the concoction before taking a sip. Although she had told a certain blue-haired girl truely that eating and drinking were mostly beyond her now and that most things had little taste, particularly strong flavors could still coax out a memory. Case in point the bracing, almost overpowering tartness of a gimlet among the few things still able to awaken something in her atrophied palette. It was a taste that reminded her of those halcyon days long gone even if the alcohol itself had no real effect on her any longer. Of a young performer exploring the world and herself. A taste that made her smile. Still, there was a certain art to drinking without actually drinking while leaving no one the wiser, but thankfully it was an art she had long practiced and was quite good at. In sharp contrast, once the pretty bartender had wandered away again, Kiera threw back half of her own drink in one go and let out a deep sigh of contentment before practically slamming the glass down on the bar. An act that made the redhead smile despite herself. Her girlfriend really was such a barbarian at times.
Oblivious, or uncaring, of her lover’s reaction the dusky woman grinned ever so slightly as she spun her glass in one hand and picked up the napkin that had been sitting under it with the other. Chuckling softly she held up the scrap of tissue with a very pleased expression on her face, “Would you look at that.”
Raising a well manicured brow, Murial scanned the napkin, noting in particular the name ‘Naomi’ written on it in graceful, looping arcs with a phone number printed below. Taking another taste of her drink to draw the moment out, the redhead hummed softly, unable to fully suppress a smile of her own, “Animal magnetism, was it?”
“Something like that.” Kiera agreed as she stuffed the note into her pocket and took another, much more measured sip of her scotch, clearly relishing the taste, “What about you pet, see anything interesting?”
Setting her own drink aside, Murial twisted in her seat just enough to scan the gathered patrons, taking in the small but not insignificant crowd of revelers that had gathered here tonight, many in costume much like herself. In truth establishments like this were the perfect place to hunt, veritable temples to lust of all types where inhibitions ran low and desire bubbled to the surface. A place where striking up a conversation with a random stranger was perfectly ordinary, and taking someone home at the end of the night barely warranted a second glance. And beyond all that the heady combination of alcohol and hormones flavored the blood wonderfully. Though finding just the right person to approach was always tricky. Indeed, as she studied the rather interesting fare on display the vampire could not help but feel a bit like a kid in a candy shop. The first to catch her eye was a rather shapely figure leaning against the far wall, rocking her hips in time with the music, the white linen of her short dress contrasting beautifully with her dark skin while golden trim and jewelry lent her the appearance of a pharaoh of old. A modern day Cleopatra brought to life. Tempting indeed, but as she followed the woman’s gaze toward the dance floor Murial caught sight of an even more enticing image. A pair of blondes, sisters perhaps, though it was hard to tell, dancing together and clearly trying to put on a show. One had long hair woven into a thick braid, a pair of devil horns perched on her head and a sinfully short dress of brightest red sheathing her body. The other sported a halo and was dressed in white, but her hair was buzzed short and her toga revealed an incredible amount of skin, drawing the eye to the handful of tattoos scattered across her body. An interesting juxtaposition alight with equally alluring possibilities.
Despite that the pale redhead’s emerald gaze eventually wandered to a slender figure sitting at the far end of the bar, her pale brown hair pulled back into a rough tail and a leather jacket cut so high it showed off her bare midriff wrapped around her torso while a matching pair of pants clung to her legs like a second skin. A look that almost screamed ‘bad girl’ and made her smile ever so slightly. Tilted her head in the woman’s direction, Murial glanced at her mistress out of the corner of her eye, “What about that one?”
Leaning against her girlfriend’s shoulder to get a better look, Kiera hummed deeply in her throat as she sized up the leather-clad figure, golden brown eyes especially drawn to that toned stomach, “Girl definitely has taste. Very rugged and a little bit wild.” the woman’s smile grew teasing then, “Why, she remind you of anyone?”
“A bit.” Murial answered, a faintly smile curling her painted lips as a mischievous glint flashed in her eyes, “Your friend Sofia perhaps?”
Swatting the redhead playfully on the arm even as she chuckled in amusement, Kiera nodded ever so slightly “I could see it. Definitely something that vixen would wear.” Pausing in her inspection, the dusky woman suddenly pointed across the room, “What about her? She also reminds me of someone.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Murial followed her mistress’s arm and spotted a ghostly pale woman sitting by herself at one of the many tables nursing what looked like a glass of wine as she tapped a foot in time with the music, seemingly lost in her own world. Her wild, inky black hair was partially pulled up into a messy bun to keep it out of her face with the rest left to flow free while her face was painted with intricately eye-catching patterns of heavy eyeshadow and black lipstick. Her outfit carried on with the same theme, a dark dress of fishnet and lace that showed off plenty of stocking clad leg and drew the eyes straight to her cleavage. Still, as lovely as she was with a well curved form and an almost otherworldly air that was only enhanced by the sharp contrast between pale skin and dark clothing, Murial knew exactly what her mistress was getting at and so pretended to turn up her nose and look away, “I’ve never dressed like that a day in my life.”
“Pity.” Kiera lamented as she wrapped the smaller women up in a half embrace and leaned in close to practically whisper, “I think it would suit you. Besides, tell me you don’t appreciate the irony of a goth girl getting picked up by an actual vampire.”
“I suppose it is a bit amusing.” Murial allowed, a shiver running down her spine as her mistress’s breath caressed her skin and unable to keep herself from smiling, “Does someone perhaps have a type?”
“What can I say?” Kiera admitted with a wry smirk before kissing the pale redhead right behind the ear, “Black really does it for me.”
Biting the corner of her lip to suppress a moan, Murial let out a playfully put upon sigh as she placed her hands on the bar and prepared to stand up, “Oh, very well. Consider it an anniversary present.”
Pulling away as she watched her lover climb to her feet, honest confusion colored Kiera’s voice, “It’s not our anniversary.”
“Ah, but as long as we’ve been together, mistress?” Murial asked as she carefully picked up her drink again, “I’m sure it’s the anniversary of something, even if neither of us can remember what.”
That prompted an honest smile as Kiera carefully drew her lover into a proper embrace, a certain wry amusement thick on her voice, “And they say romance is dead.”
“Perhaps a bit.” Murial quipped as she leaned in to press a feather-soft kiss to the dusky woman’s lips, “In my case anyway.”
A grin curled Kiera’s lips, the glint in her eye betraying her amusement, but she refrained from commenting. Instead she tightened her grip momentarily and returned that kiss with a touch more force, “I’ll be waiting, pet.”
Slipping out of the dusky woman’s arms, Murial flashed a confident grin before plunged into the crowd without hesitation, keeping half an eye on Kiera as her mistress sat on the now vacant stool and gestured to the bartender for another drink. Shaking her head ever so slightly, the redhead made a beeline for her target and considered her approach. Subtlety and innuendo could certainly be fun, but the direct approach also held a certain appeal and right now she was not certain which would yield better results. Or at least which would be more entertaining. Piercing green eyes cutting through the gloom easily enough, more and more details became clear with each and every step. Such as the way the pale girl had painted on her eyebrows, or that she had several small studs in her lower lip along with a nose ring. Most intriguing of all, though, she wore deep red contact lenses that glinted like rubies in the half light and every inch of exposed skin was as pale as her face. In fact Murial found herself wondering if the girl had actually painted her entire body to match or if there was something more to her than met the eye. Though the heartbeat that she could practically feel hammering beneath that generous bosom like a drum suggested not.
Putting that thought aside, a discovery to savor later hopefully, the redhead slowed her approach until she was practically looming over the girl like a shadow brought to life, that flicker of movement just enough to catch her attention and make her flinch back in surprise, painted on brows arched as those scarlet eyes widened in shock. Offering what she hoped was a disarming smile, Murial allowed a slightly flirtatious lilt to enter her voice as she held up a hand, “My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s… it’s fine,” the girl eventually managed, that wine red gaze briefly lingering on the redhead’s cleavage before shooting to her face, the faintest of blushes visible despite her heavy makeup, “Can I help you, miss…?”
“Murial,” she answered, smile morphing into the faintest of smirks as she arched her back ever so slightly, “And I was wondering if this seat is taken?”
Swallowing hard and still a bit off balance the girl shook her head, the motion making her inky black hair sway back and forth, “Not at all.”
“My thanks.” Murial offered honestly, that slender and oh so seductive smile never once wavering as she carefully slipped into the chair, idly swirling her glass with one hand while folding her other arm beneath her breasts. An action that, along with her posture, emphasized her chest beautifully, “It truly is a tragedy to see a pretty girl sitting by herself, miss…?”
“Dahlia.” the girl answered almost automatically, a tiny smile curling her own dark lips as the shock began to fade and those enticing eyes roamed over her new companion’s body, “And does that line ever actually work?”
“More often than you’d think,” Murial admitted, the slightest trace of amusement entering her voice as she pointed out, “You invited me to sit, after all.”
“Touche,” the girl, Dahlia, conceded.
Taking another taste of her drink Murial smiled again, pleased by the faint hitch she could hear in the pale girl’s breath, “I do have to say I love your outfit. Very appropriate for the season, though I get the feeling it’s not too far off from your usual fare.”
Nodding faintly in agreement, Dahlia took a sip of her own wine, “I like your dress as well, though with that hair I get the feeling that it’s nothing like your usual fare.”
“What, this old thing?” the redhead asked almost rhetorically, lips twitching into a smirk at the joke only she really understood, “I was going to wear my leopard-skin loincloth, but I thought it might be a bit chilly for that.”
Even if she wasn’t quite sure if the other woman was serious or not, Dahlia’s skin still darkened ever so faintly through her foundation, clearly liking that mental image, and she quickly took another drink to try and cover her reaction, “Pity.”
“Very much so,” Murial agreed, that teasing grin never once leaving her face as she folded her arms onto the table and leaned forward, deliberately exposing even more of her modest cleavage as she ran a finger along the rim of her glass suggestively and let a sensual note enter her voice, “How about we cut to the chase. Would you like to dance?”
For what felt like a long moment Dahlia remained silent as she studied the pale redhead across from her, artificially crimson eyes flickering between that wild hair and those aristocratic cheekbones before an honest smile curled her dark lips, “I thought you’d never ask.”
Wordlessly extending a hand, and pleased when her dark companion took it, Murial rose to her feet in one smooth motion and pulled the pale girl along after her, gripping those slender and yet delightfully warm fingers tightly. With only half a dozen or so people dancing, finding an empty spot was easy enough and as she pulled Dahlia close, the redhead lost herself almost instantly in the music, the pair easily falling into a rhythm as they slipped into a dance as old as time. No plan, no pattern, just two bodies moving together, a release of energy that was almost sexual in its electrifying intensity. Wrapping her arms around the pale girl’s shapely body, Murial allowed her fingers to roam up and down that back, teasing her shoulders and tracing the smooth edges of her corset before slowly sinking lower to take her by the hips. Moaning softly in response, Dahlia closed her eyes and bit her lip, spreading her arms over her head in silent invitation as she rocked those hips side to side, practically grinding against the vampire’s slender body and clearly adrift in the moment, her world reduced to one of pure sensation. Leaning closer, the redhead let her hands drift even lower, caressing the girl’s shapely ass as she laid a series of kisses along her pale throat and nipped at her ear, her fangs practically itching as she was struck with the overwhelming urge to bite, to draw the sweet blood she could practically feel pulsing beneath hot skin but with an iron will honed over more than a century of life she held back. Now was not the time or the place, and besides if things worked out like she planned the moment would be all the sweeter when it finally came.
Still, as they continued to dance she could also feel the girl’s heartbeat grow more and more frantic, heat pulsing in her core, and Murial could not help but smile as she pulled her companion in close and let her voice drop to a quiet, breathy whisper, “Dahlia?”
“Hmm?” the girl managed.
Turning their bodies ever so slightly when the song ended, the light of the jukebox instantly cutting off and plunging the club into blackness pierced only by the eerie glow of faerie lights and the flickering candles of the jack-o-lanterns, Murial continued, “Do you see the brunette at the bar, the one in the white blouse and suspenders?”
Reluctantly opening her eyes, Dahlia squinted in the darkness but easily spotted the figure in question, white shirt illuminated by the glow of the bar’s lights as she sat chatting with a blushing figure behind the bar itself. However, the pale girl gasped in surprise a moment later when Kiera stopped talking all of a sudden and turned to look right at her with shockingly golden brown eyes, a smirk decorating full lips as she raised her glass in silent salute. Skin flushed beneath her makeup, the pale girl swallowed hard and almost shakily looked up at Muiral, confusion written on her face.
“She’s my lover,” the redhead answered simply, relishing the momentary look of astonishment in those brilliantly crimson eyes, “Tonight’s our anniversary and we’d very much like to take you home, tie you down to our bed, and fuck your pretty brains out.”
The look of pure shock on Dahlia’s face at that offer was delicious, but for all that her body could not lie. Murial could feel the pale girl’s heart begin to race, heat radiating from her cheeks as she shivered, the faintest of moans that only someone with extraordinary senses could even hear echoing deep in her throat. After what felt like an eternity, the offer hanging between them like a bomb waiting to explode, the girl eventually drew a shaky breath and nodded, barely trusting her voice to answer, “Please?”
Kissing those dark painted lips for the first time Muria’s smile was almost triumphant, “Do be careful what you wish for.”
Turning again before her companion could comment on that somewhat cryptic warning, Murial began to make her way off the dance floor with Dahlia in tow, cutting through the crowd and weaving around the tables without difficulty despite the darkness. Silently signaling to her lover as they went, flicking her fingers in a gesture that only the dusky woman would understand, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Kiera nodded and turned away to say something to the bartender who, despite the look of disappointment that flashing across her face, nodded as well. After watching her mistress leaned across the bar to give Naomi a kiss on the cheek, the woman’s blush flaring sharply in response, the redhead looked away and began to lead her new companion straight toward the door, still holding those warm, delicate fingers tightly, every ounce of her attention focused on the pulse of that racing heart. Like earlier, the moment when they finally stepped outside was almost shocking, though in a very different fashion. Compared to the warmth within, the sudden burst of cold was intense, cutting through their clothes like a knife and raising goosebumps on delicate skin as a sudden burst of wind picked up. Murial ignored it of course, but feeling Dahlia begin to shiver against her the vampire silently cursed her general lack of body heat and pulled the girl into a proper embrace, willing her blood to flow faster as she tried to shield the girl from the cold. Thankfully the dilemma solved itself a moment later when a pair of strong arms circled them both and drew them almost fiercely against a beautifully shaped and wonderfully warm body.
Still grinning, Kiera kissed the redhead lingeringly, nearly bruising pale lips as she brushed a stray curl of fiery hair over her ear. Winking playfully, the dusky woman then turned that golden brown gaze on Dahlia, her grin turning almost impish, “Good work, pet. What a delightful morsel you’ve found.”
Smiling at the blush clearly visible on the girl’s cheeks, meaning that her skin had to be practically blazing under that makeup, Murial’s lips twitched playfully as she introduced the pair, “Kiera, this is Dahlia. Dahlia, this is my mistress.”
Running strong, calloused fingers through the girl’s wavy black hair, Kiera’s smile grew warm and her tone soft, “Charmed.”
“Likewise.” Dahlia managed, swallowed hard around the lump in her throat and very nearly lost in the dulcet, seductive lilt of the dusky woman’s voice.
“I hope you’re not too cold,” the werewolf continued as she began to slowly run her hand up and down the girl’s back in a rather suggestive manner, each stroke moving lower and lower and lower, “Naomi offered to call a cab, but I’d rather enjoy the night and it’s a short walk back to our place.”
Even as she shivered beneath that touch in a way that had nothing to do with the cold, Dahlia looked up at the woman in confusion, “Naomi?”
“The bartender.” Kiera answered simply, a playful glint in her eye and the tiniest of smiles curling her lips, “Nice girl. I invited her to join us, but she turned me down. Acted all scandalized, but I could see how turned on she was. Her loss I suppose.”
Shock certainly seemed to color Dahlia’s face at the oh so casual suggestion of a foursome, but the look just as quickly morphed into one of intrigue, the tiniest of moans and the faint shifting of her hips betraying her own arousal. However, before she could even think to comment, Kiera gave her a soft kiss, stealing whatever words might have been waiting, and began to guide the group toward the sidewalk arm in arm. Unlike the walk here, taken at a deliberately sedate pace to enjoy the scenery, Kiera moved as quickly as she could this time, practically dragging her companions along behind her in her eagerness, not that Murial minded in the least. In fact the entire trip was little more than a blur, the crowds thinning once again as glass and neon gave way to brick and mortar, the heat of the dusky woman’s body a pleasant shroud against the cold. In fact, the pale redhead found herself so lost in the moment that before she even realized it they were standing in front of her home. Separating from each other with obvious reluctance, leaving her mistress to hold Dahlia’s still softly shivering form close, Murial walked up the path with all the grace she could muster while digging through her purse for her keys. As she moved to unlock the front door Kiera, clearly in no mood to wait any longer, effortlessly scooped their newest plaything up into a bridal carry, the pale girl shrieking in delighted shock and instinctively throwing her arms around the taller woman’s neck to steady herself. Shaking her head with obvious amusement, an honest smile on her face, Murial opened the door and stood aside, bowing ever so slightly in an obviously dramatic pose as she motioned for her lover to enter. Grinning in response Kiera wasted no time as she slipped through the threshold, shifting from the pale illumination of the porch lamp to the twilight within. Trailing along in her wake, Murial said nothing as they slowly crossed the living room and began to climb the stairs, all the while the dusky woman whispered into Dahlia’s ear, the pale girl’s blush growing darker and darker by the moment even as her smile grew to match. Despite her intense curiosity at the situation, especially at the way the girl occasionally nodded or shook her head in response to whatever it was her mistress was saying, the redhead held her tongue and simply continued to follow.
Soon enough they were on the second floor and Kiera suddenly looked back before nodding towards the bedroom door. Nodding in response, Murial stepped around the woman and plunged into the darkened room. However, rather than simply turn on the lights she made her way over to her dresser and picked up a small book of matches sitting there casually. Flitting about the room, the redhead then proceeded to light a series of antique oil lamps, bathing the room in a flickering golden glow not unlike candles, if much safer. Smiling at the rather romantic atmosphere the effect created, Murial tossed the matches aside and again watched as her mistress entered and set her burden down, Dahlia’s scarlet eyes alight with desire as she took in her surroundings, gaze lingering on the antique furniture, the rather erotic paintings that hung on the walls, but most especially on the big four post bed draped with gauzy curtains and covered with silken sheets.
Embracing the girl from behind now, Kiera began to nibble playfully at her ear while rocking her hips side to side, “What do you say, my lovely? Ready?”
Biting her lip as she tried, and failed, to contain a moan, Dahlia nodded almost frantically for all that her voice was nearly a whisper, “Yes.”
“Yes, mistress.” Kiera corrected in a somewhat harsher, almost growling tone that brooked absolutely no arguments.
This time the girl didn’t even try to contain her moan as a shiver of excitement wracked her body, “Yes, mistress!”
“Good girl.” Kiera practically cooed as she grinned triumphantly, pearly white teeth reflecting the light in a way that was almost unnatural, before turning her golden brown gaze on Murial, “Now pet, strip.”
Normally the vampire would have pushed back, if just for show, forced her mistress to dominate her rather than offering her submission freely, but she could admit to being curious and so inclined her head ever so slightly in acquiescence, “Yes, mistress.”
With that the redhead reached behind herself and carefully unzipped the back of her dress with slender fingers. Holding the cloth in place against her chest with her free hand, she delicately slipped the straps from her shoulders one at a time and offered her lover a smile before twisting her body into a deliberately seductive pose and allowed the dress to pool at her feet. The lean and slender lines of her body now exposed, lamplight flickering off her pale skin like molten gold, Murial drew her hands down her chest, arching her back to emphasize her lack of a bra before cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples to hardness as two pairs of eyes followed her movements intensely. Continued downwards, fingers gliding over the ridges of her flat stomach as she went, the pale woman looped her thumbs through the waistband of her thong and slid the lacy material down ever so slightly to reveal a hint of her cleanly shaved sex. Biting the corner of her lip playfully, her half-lidded gaze the very definition of bedroom eyes, the redhead at last pushed that scrap of cloth over her hips and down her legs to join her dress on the floor. Naked now save for her high heels, and of course the choker around her neck, Murial casually stepped out of her garments and placed a hand on her hip, smile growing seductive as her voice dropped into a low, breathy purr.
“Like this, mistress?”
“Exactly like that, pet.” Kiera agreed as she slowly disentangled herself from Dahlia’s lovely form, eyes never once leaving her lover’s naked body as she practically stalked across the room to take the redhead by the chin. Looking deep into those emerald green eyes, the dusky woman brought their lips together, hard and without warning, thrusting her tongue deep into that cool and eager mouth, brooking no argument as she practically branded the slender woman with a kiss. Growling quietly in her throat, eyes practically ablaze in the flickering light when she finally broke that kiss, Kiera whispering harshly into the redhead’s ear, “Now, why don’t you go strip our guest as well.”
Wetting her lips, and well aware that her mistress was not asking, Murial nodded ever so slightly as the woman lowered herself onto their bed and leaned back to watch the show. Determined to make it a memorable one, the redhead pasted a smile onto her face and began to stride across the room, deliberately placing one foot in front of the other and swaying her hips back and forth in a deliberately seductive rhythm. Smile growing more genuine at the way Dahlia’s crimson gaze followed her every movement, the redhead swiftly closed the distance until their noses were practically touching and cupped those trembling cheeks with her palms. While not exactly a tall woman, Murial was still far from short and had always used her long and lean frame as part of her performances, but it was only in this moment that she realized the pale girl was nearly half a head shorter than her. An amusing change of perspective given how tall Kiera was, and how used she had become to being the short one in their relationship. Shaking her head at those stray thoughts, the redhead leaned in and placed a soft kiss to those dark lips, tiny stainless steel studs pressing into her own flesh as she did so, and smiled at the trembling girl in a way that she hoped was calming.
“You can touch me too,” Murial whispered, “I don’t mind.”
With that statement it was as if a dam had broken, Dahlia’s arms instantly shooting up from where they had been hanging awkwardly at her sides to wrap around the redhead’s waist, hands tracing the ridges of her spine as they ran up her back. Eyes alight with something akin to awe as she explored that wonderfully nude body, the pale girl’s voice was almost deathly quiet and thick with reverence, “You’re so beautiful.”
“Why thank you.” Murial practically purred as she kissed the girl again, “But it seems to me that you’re wearing entirely too much for the occasion.”
To that Dahlia could only nod and, without warning, the redhead dropped to her knees in response with almost languid slowness and pulled the hem of that dark dress aside to expose both the torn fishnets sheathing the girl’s shapely legs and the faux combat boots that extended almost to her knees. Unfastening the dozens of buckles holding those boots in place one at a time, amused by the way the girl trembled in anticipation, Murial carefully slid the dark, studded leather free to expose well-trimmed nails painted a deep maroon and a number of slender toe rings. Setting those shoes aside for now, the redhead reached up and took Dahlia by the hips to steady herself before rising back to her full height. Cupping generous breasts and eliciting a quiet moan as she squeezed those delicate mounds, feeling nipples harden through the thin cloth, Murial eventually let her hands slide downward to slowly open the girl’s corset one clasp at a time, the tension releasing with an audible pop as the garment came loose. Practically flinging the steel-boned leather aside, the redhead slipped behind Dahlia’s back then with practiced ease and unzipped her dress in one smooth motion, practically peeling it off of the lush body beneath. To her surprise and delight, as the lacy cloth fell away she discovered that the fishnets their newest plaything was wearing were not part of the dress itself, or even separate stockings and gloves, but a bodysuit worn underneath, the artfully torn garment clinging to Dahlia’s shapely form and carefully tailored to leave her firm breasts, pert ass and sensitive inner thighs completely bare. She also discovered, much to her delight, that the entirety of the girl’s body was indeed as pale as her face. So much so that Murial could not help but wonder if this was something like a spray-on tan but in reverse. What was shocking, however, was that in addition to that bodysuit the girl wore a pair of pasties over her firm and clearly pierced nipples and a slender chastity belt, a veritable metal g-string made of steel plates and rubber-lined cables, about her loins.
Molding herself against Dahlia’s back as she began to explore that lovely body, thrilling at the way the pale girl shivered beneath fingers tracing her ribs and the sensitive skin of her stomach, Murial practically smirked at the revelation, “It looks like someone’s been holding out on us, mistress.”
“Indeed, pet.” Kiera agreed as she slowly climbed back to her feet with sinuous grace, slipping her suspenders from her shoulders and pulling off her shirt in the same motion. The sight of that powerfully sculpted torso and those full breasts, each capped with a rock hard nipple pierced with a stud of ruby and gold, drew a shuddering breath from Dahlia’s throat as the dusky woman approached, “Such a naughty girl we have here.”
“Very naughty, mistress.” Murial agreed, a languid, teasing smile on her face as she placed a kiss behind the girl’s ear and allowed her breath to tease delicate skin as she whispered, “So naughty she needed her pussy locked up.”
“So tell me, my lovely.” Kiera asked as she reached out to take the pale girl’s hips and gently teased the soft skin along the edges of her chastity belt, “Is this yours, or do you belong to someone else?”
Struggling against the riot of sensations assaulting her body, Dahlia’s breath hitched as she dared to look up into the woman’s golden brown eyes and saw the raw lust on display there, “It’s… It’s mine, mistress. The keys are in my purse.”
Stepping away from the girl to scoop up that purse from where it had fallen to the floor, Kiera spent what felt like a long moment digging through its contents until she eventually found what she was looking for. Taking the pair of simple keys looped through the hasp of a tiny brass padlock, and grinning at that rather appropriate choice, the dusky woman handed them to Murial almost casually, “Maybe we should keep these, pet.”
A playful half smile curling her lips at the way the pale girl moaned softly in response to that suggestion, those eyes of purest scarlet heavy with need, Murial took the keys and gave their newest plaything a kiss on the back of the neck, a playful lilt in her voice, “Maybe, mistress. And maybe we should keep her locked up nice and tight.”
That moan became a gasp, a shiver of excitement running down Dahlia’s spine as Kiera cupped her chin and smiled devilishly, “Naughty girls do need punished.”
Voice quiet and yet thick with desire, every inch of her turned on beyond all measure, Dahlia licked her lips, “What… What are you going to do to me?”
Reaching up to slip a blindfold over the girl’s eyes, eliciting another gasp as the silky cloth plunged her back in darkness, Kiera nuzzled a cheek playfully, “No need to worry your pretty little head, my lovely. Don’t think, just feel.”
Breath quickening in excitement, Dahlia just nodded and as soon as she did the dusky woman claimed her lips. Unlike their previous kisses which had been gentle, teasing and playful, this one was fierce and relentless, dominating in its totality as Kiera claimed her, a deep growl rumbling in the woman’s chest as she did. For her part, though, the pale girl responded eagerly, submitting without hesitation as she leaned against her mistress’s muscular form and ground her shapely ass against Murial’s hips, practically whimpering as she opened her mouth to allow an eager tongue access. After what seemed like an eternity of enjoying that sweet mouth, and dueling with a pleasantly pierced tongue, the dusky woman finally pulled back with another, much deeper, growl of frustration before shaking herself and leaning back to admire Dahlia’s pale face. Smirking ever so slightly at the sight of the panting girl’s now smeared lipstick, Kiera slowly stroked her fingers through long, inky dark hair before suddenly shoving a ball gag between those parted lips without warning or ceremony. Crying out in surprise at the sudden intrusion, the pale girl tried to force the gag out with her tongue but her mistress was relentless, pressing on the ball with both thumbs, forcing it deep into the pale girl’s mouth and behind her perfect teeth until the cherry red rubber forced her dark lips wide. Buckling the gag down tightly, black leather straps dimpling pale cheeks, Kiera grinned and pressed one last kiss to the tip of her plaything’s nose before stepping back.
Arms still draped around the girl’s waist, Murial held her in place and peppered kisses along the side of her neck and down the curve of her shoulder at the same time, grinning at the way Dahlia moaned into her gag and squirmed in her grip at each and every touch. As she worked, teasing and touching the now blind girl, Kiera gathered up a set of padded leather cuffs and fastened them snugly around slender wrists and ankles. Sealing each one in place with a small padlock, the dusky woman then secured lengths of chain to each cuff before anchoring them in turn to a series of cleverly hidden hooks on the floor and in the ceiling. Crying out again as she was pulled into a standing spread-eagle, Dahlia tried to struggle against her restraints but it was no use. The chains held her body helplessly taut and all she managed to do was make her breasts sway invitingly.
Finished with that task, Kiera smiled in satisfaction and took Murial by the arms, gently disentangling the redhead before pulling her close. Idly stroking her lover’s slender body as she watched the pale girl continue to struggle, the dusky woman nuzzled her hair in a familiar gesture before musing, “Quite the sight.”
“Very much so, mistress.” Murial replied with a grin as she settled against the dusky woman’s side, green eyes glued to the curves of Dahlia’s body.
Running a hand down the slender woman’s flank, tracing the edges of her ribs and delighting in the quiet sigh of pleasure she elicited, Kiera allowed her palm to rest on a bare hip, fingers caressing delicate skin before she practically whispered, “I do think she could use a bit of your special attention, though.”
Even as those words caressed her ear, Murial felt the hunger burning in her veins surge, an almost aching desire for more than mere blood filling her. An all consuming, if thankfully momentary, need for sensation, for the feeling of a warm body against her skin. So much so that she didn’t even try to stop her fangs from extending this time, an almost savage grin curling her lips as she nodded, “Of course, mistress. It would be my pleasure.”
Gently but insistently breaking free from her mistress’s grasp then, the redhead silently padded over to where Dahlia still hung in her bonds. Circling the bound girl once, then twice, like a leopard sizing up its prey, Murial reached out and ran a finger down the curve of the girl’s pale jaw, grinning at the way she gasped at the sudden contact and then moaned as those fingers began to trace the contours of her lower lip, teasing each of the tiny studs pierced through it one at a time. Pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth then, the redhead began to work her way down with deliberate slowness, a second kiss following on the cleft of Dahlia’s chin and then a third on that pale throat, right over her pulse. Heart hammering in her chest, the girl gasped and then moaned again as those lips began to work their way down even further, following the curve of her breasts with feather-soft kisses. Taking those full but delicate mounds in hand, Murial squeezed, kneading wonderfully soft flesh as she continued, kissing all the way down the arch of the bound girl’s left breast before practically ripping the pasty off with her teeth, freeing the rock hard nipple trapped beneath and exposing the delicately curved stud pierced through it. Repeating the process on the right a heartbeat later, the tiny muffled moans that each touch of her lips elicited practically music to her ears, the redhead was somewhat surprised to discover that her plaything’s piercings were actually asymmetrical with a simple ring hidden beneath the other pasty. A curious aesthetic, but one that somehow fit the girl’s style. Pushing that interesting, if ultimately irrelevant, fact aside after a moment Murial nipped at that delicate nub with her teeth, scraping the edge of her fang against sensitive skin and positively delighting in the way Dahlia squirmed and whimpered in response.
Tightening her grip then to being properly massaging the girl’s impressive tits, the redhead grinned ever so slightly as she took a captive nipple between her lips and began to suck gently, teasing with her tongue all the while and tugging playfully at the ring pierced through it. As the bound girl moaned deep in her throat and thrust her chest forward, pulling hard against the chains as she silently begged for more, Kiera slipped behind that pendulous form, a cruelly playful smile on her lips as she removed her belt. As Murial shifted ever so slightly to begin worshiping Dahlia’s other breast the dusky woman struck, bringing that belt down across the pale girl’s ass with a sharp crack and enough force to set those glorious cheeks jiggling madly. Caught off guard by the sudden jolt of pain the girl cried out into her gag, chains rattling as her entire body jerked hard against her bonds, and yet the deep and throaty timber to her cries betrayed her pleasure, as did the sudden surge of her heart and the heat that seemed to radiate from her skin. Whatever the case, Kiera did not stop. Clearly pleased by the girl’s reactions she continued to swing that leather strap back and forth, slowly but insistently flogging Dahlia’s ass, thighs and back, each blow hard enough to be felt but never so heavy as to leave a mark on that creamy skin. The pale girl certainly seemed to be enjoying the experience if nothing else as she squirmed and writhed within her bonds, her entire body trembling in anticipation as she moaned with each and every blow.
As their plaything gave herself over to the sensations racing through her helplessly splayed frame, Murial began to work her way down, exploring that lush body with lips and hands, drawing her fingers over the contours of the girl’s torso and enjoying the almost rough sensation of the fishnet while exploiting the strategic rips in that material to kiss the pale skin underneath. Working slowly and methodically she then trailed kisses down the bound girl’s stomach, skirting along the edge of her navel and noting the fairly elaborate piercing that she found there, a shiny black stone glinting amid the stainless steel. Pausing only long enough to nip at that sensitive skin almost hard enough to leave a mark, eliciting a sound halfway between a moan and a muffled giggle, Dahlia suddenly jerked against the force of a blow across her shoulder blades, throwing her head back and moaning loudly at the sudden sting, clearly turned on if those heavy, panting breaths were any indication. Smiling just a bit, Murial finally let go of the girl’s breasts and allowed her hands to trail down her sides before slowly gliding along the edges of her chastity belt. Teasing pale skin as her kisses worked ever lower, Dahlia’s breaths growing faster and shorter with each touch of those lips, the redhead smirked and suddenly unlocked that belt. As those steel bands fell away from shapely hips, eliciting another gasp of shock as cool air rushed over the girl’s cleanly shaved sex, a hard and eager clit presented itself proudly amidst glistening folds slick with arousal, a silvery stud pierced through her hood flashing in the flickering lamplight.
Pausing just long enough to stretch out the moment, Dahlia’s helplessly bound and blindfolded form struggled in her restraints as she tried to thrust her hips forward, but Murial’s grip may as well have been made of iron for all the good it did her. After an eternity of that torturous denial, the redhead finally leaned forward again and ran the tip of her tongue up and down the lips of the girl’s labia, teasing her plaything’s most sensitive flesh and making her whimper into her gag as she begged, having clearly been sealed away for some time. It was only then, when Dahlia’s struggles began to grow almost frantic, that the pale woman finally relented and captured those nether lips in a kiss and thrust her cool tongue deep inside that heated body. Despite the sharp and sudden gasp that escaped the girl’s tightly packed mouth Murial wasted no time in exploring that sweet flesh more thoroughly, teasing a seemingly never-ending string of shuddering breaths and gasping moans out of her as she lapped at already frayed nerves, delighted by the way the girl’s vaginal muscles tightened instinctively around her. And yet, with a skill born of much practice the redhead managed to work her plaything to the very edge and hold her there for what seemed like an eternity before finally withdrawing her tongue and lavishing Dahlia’s clit with the same sort of affection, licking and sucking and even running the tip of a fang along that throbbing flesh, eliciting a shuddering cry somewhere between ecstasy and agony as the tempo of her whipping increased, Kiera continuing to flog the pale girl hard enough now to leave the barest stripes of pink on that shapely ass.
Trapped between pleasure and pain Dahlia could do nothing but dangle there helplessly, the rattle of chains and the creak of leather accompanying her increasingly desperate moans and panting breath as she tried to buck her hips against the source of her pleasure and howled into her gag, begging for the release so long denied her even as she shook her ass ever so slightly to invite the touch of the whip. It was only then, when she felt the girl’s body begin to tense, her muscles drawing tight and her whimpering moans growing desperate, that Murial pulled away. Shrieking at the sudden loss of contact the girl practically thrashed in the redhead’s grip, but the vampire paid it no mind as she suddenly thrust a pair of fingers into that wet and aching sex and sunk her fangs into the creamy flesh of a bare inner thigh. The reaction was almost instantaneous. Nothing she had ever experienced could have prepared Dahlia for the riot of sensations that suddenly assaulted her frame, the way those fingers curled just enough to hit all of her most sensitive places at once, to say nothing of the pure ecstasy that radiated from that bite. Even if she had wanted to hold back it would have been impossible and the bound girl screamed into her gag as she came, her body almost instinctively arching against what might have been the most intense orgasms of her entire life. Murial paid that no mind either as she continued to thrust into that tight and quaking flesh and languidly sipped at the claret flow seeping from the girl’s skin.
If there were words to describe the ecstasy of drinking hot blood straight from the vein then Murial du Sang had never found them, try though she might. It was a bit like trying to describe color to a blind man, to capture a sensation so impossible that only those who had experienced it for themselves could ever truly understand. It was bliss, sheer and utter bliss, finer than any wine, sweeter than any liqueur, a rush of heat and life that tasted… that tasted like nothing else in the world. However, it was also a pleasure that was best taken slowly and so she drew the experience out, savoring the taste of the girl as orgasm after orgasm was ripped from Dahlia’s body, each spike of adrenaline and endorphins flavoring the red gold flowing from her veins in a rush of spicy heat. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours, time ceased to have any meaning in that moment, but eventually Murial forced herself to withdraw her fangs and lick the wound closed, not wanting to risk taking too much. Just enough to sate her thirst and fill her cold flesh with the blush of life. Still, after all that it would have been the height of impropriety to not reward her plaything and so, even after she stopped drinking, the redhead continued to thrust her fingers deep into the bound girl and twisted her hand to grind the heel of her palm against that throbbing clit, ripping one last shattering climax out of Dahlia’s exhausted body and making her shriek like a banshee as she threw her head back, tears pouring down her cheeks and carrying trails of dark makeup with them.
Completely and utterly spent the girl collapsed into her bonds, dangling limply as she panted and whimpered softly into her gag, barely even reacting as those fingers finally withdrew from her still pulsing sex and aftershocks assaulted her body. Dropping her belt, Kiera moved almost instantly to embrace the girl again, holding her close and stroking dark hair soothingly, her voice soft and yet warmly amused as she teased, “I do hope you’re not finished yet, my lovely. We’re nowhere near done with you yet.”
Stirring just a bit at the sound of that voice in her ear, Dahlia managed to tilt her head just enough to grant the dusky woman better access and murmured into her gag, “Mnrm.”
Loosening the straps just enough to pop the ball from her mouth, Kiera tilted her head curiously, “Oh? What was that?”
Licking her lips and swallowing hard, voice rough and throat sore from screaming, Dahlia nonetheless managed to practically shout, “More!”
Momentarily taken aback by that unexpectedly fierce response, a truly wicked smile suddenly bloomed on Kiera’s face as the dusky woman leaned in to give the bound girl a kiss on the cheek, “Do be careful what you wish for, my greedy girl.”
Dahlia opened her mouth to respond but Murial shot to her feet with surprising speed and captured the girl’s lips in a kiss, silencing her. As she explored that sweet mouth, and dueled with a pleasantly pierced tongue, Kiera went to work removing the girl’s chains one at a time. Practically collapsing into the vampire’s arms as the restraints fell away, her entire body reduced to jello by the sheer intensity of her orgasms, the pale girl could do nothing to resist as she was carried to the bed and carefully laid out upon it. Sighing softly as she relaxed onto those silky soft sheets, her shaking legs particularly grateful for the chance to rest, Dahlia still offered no resistance as the older women used the cuffs still around her wrists and ankles to tie her down and stretch her body out for the second time. As she secured the last of the ropes, Murial allowed her eyes to roam over the expanse of that pale form, splayed out helplessly spread-eagle again, and smiled. Her bloodlust might have satisfied, but that was hardly the only hunger she had hoped to sate this night. Looking up at her mistress, and noting the lust reflected in those golden eyes, the redhead knew she wasn’t the only one. Circling the bed carefully she walked to Kiera’s side and enveloped the powerful woman in a hug, practically molding their bodies together as she rested her head on a strong shoulder.
Looping an arm around her lover’s waist, Kiera regarded the other woman curiously, “I know that look, pet. You want something.”
“You know me too well, my mistress.” Murial quipped, unable to keep herself from grinning just a touch mischievously as she twisted in the dusky woman’s grasp and let her voice fall into a breathy, seductive whisper, “I want to use her mouth.”
Turning her shoulders Kiera drew the redhead into a proper embrace and tightened her grip to practically crush their chests together with a strength that would have probably squeezed the breath out of a living woman. Swaying ever so slightly, the dusky woman pondered that request before nodding ever so slightly, a thin half smile on her face, “Oh very well, pet. I suppose it’s only fair after that performance.”
Craning her neck to kiss the slightly taller woman on the cheek, Murial smiled brightly but said nothing as she slipped out of her mistress’s grip, though the dusky woman did not really try to stop her, and turned back toward the bed. Lowering herself down on the edge of the mattress, the redhead reached out and carefully brushed stray curls of Dahlia’s inky black hair out of her face and fully removed the ball gag from where it dangled around her neck. Moaning softly at the feeling of soft fingers stroking her scalp, and whimpering when they withdrew, Dahlia twisted her head to try and maintain contact only to be caught by surprise for a second time when a ring gag was shoved between her slightly parted lips. Although the bound girl cried out and tried to resist, if not that hard, Murial easily pressed the gag into place behind her teeth and strapped it down tightly to ensure it could not work its way loose. Brushing the back of her hand against a pale cheek, and smiling at the way the girl shivered beneath her touch, the redhead leaned down and kissed her forehead, hard enough to leave the faintest impression of her lipstick on that sensitive skin.
“Do you like it, my lovely?” Murial asked, voice pitched low as she whispered into the girl’s ear, “I’ve worn that gag many times myself.”
“Ueauuy?” Dahlia managed, a shiver running through her frame.
“Really.” Murial confirmed with a faint smile as she again began to run her fingers through that silky hair and nipped at the girl’s lower lip, “There’s something so intimate about sharing a gag, wouldn’t you agree?”
Dahlia’s moan was almost desperate this time as she arched her back and pulled hard against her bonds, “Yeh, nhihghuehh!”
Sitting up, Murial moved to straddle the bound girl, positioning her knees on either side of Dahlia’s head and shifting forward to press her pussy against that helplessly captive mouth, “I’m not your mistress, my dear, but I do expect you to obey.”
Dahlia needed no instruction to understand what that meant and immediately snaked her tongue out through the gag wrenching her jaws wide and tentatively began to explore the other woman. Biting her lip to suppress a moan as she arched her back against the sensation, Murial pressed downward and began to rock her hips back and forth as the pale girl probed her curves and folds with increasing vigor, a piercing brushing against sensitive nerves in a truly wondrous fashion. And yet, before she could truly lose herself in pleasure a pair of strong arms pulled her back ever so slightly as calloused hands cupped her breasts. Gasping as an achingly familiar body molded itself against her back, and warm breath tickled her ear, the redhead moaned softly as teeth brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck followed by a soft pair of lips teasing what would have been her pulse a lifetime ago.
“Starting without me, pet?” Kiera asked in a low and husky voice.
“Maybe.” Murial managed to answer as that tongue continued to lap at her core, twisting her head just enough to glance at her mistress out of the corner of her eye, an impish smile curling her lips, “Are you going to punish me?”
Suddenly taking a handful of that wild red hair, Kiera pulled sharply, forcing Murial to arch her back and tilt her neck with the force before capturing the slender woman’s lips in a fiercely possessive kiss. Growling softly in excitement when the redhead began to fight back, tongues dueling for control until the dusky woman finally asserted herself, Kiera could not help but grin, “I’ll allow it, just this once.”
Licking her lips, as if she could taste the remnants of her mistress there, Murial smirked momentarily but before she could reply her mistress shifted and bit her on the neck, hard enough that the woman’s sharpened canine teeth actually broke the skin, the sudden sting making her eyes flutter closed as she moaned for all that her flesh knitted itself back together almost instantly. Without further comment Kiera shoved her forward, so much so that the redhead’s hands shot out, palms slamming into the pillow on either side of Dahlia’s head to catch herself as she was left bent over the pale girl, long hair trailing down just enough to tickle the tip of her nose. Both incredible amused, and incredibly turned on by that rough handling, Murial could not help but chuckle as she wove her fingers in the curtain of purest sable laid out on that pillow and drew Dahlia’s helplessly wrenched open mouth even more firmly against her throbbing sex, letting out another shuddering moan when the girl’s tongue found a particularly sensitive spot. Behind her Kiera just watched for a long moment as her lover continued to ride the bound girl’s face, hips rocking with increased vigor as she was slowly worked toward climax. Letting that slender body go, eventually the dusky woman slid back between their guest’s legs. Having already stripped off the rest of her cloths and fastened her favorite strap-on around her hips, the dusky woman spent a long moment simply admiring the splayed out form before her, golden brown eyes particularly drawn to the way shadows flickered over generous curves and arousal glistening on red and swollen nether lips.
Without warning the dusky woman shifted sharply, taking Dahlia’s hips in hand and thrusting between her thighs to bury that dildo to the hilt in her wet and eager sex. Crying out at the sensation of being filled so utterly even as her muscles tightened around the intruder, the bound girl arched her back involuntarily and tried to buck her hips but the weight of the bodies pressed down on her and the ropes holding her limbs taut made that impossible. She could do nothing but endure as Kiera began to thrust into her with long and even strokes, each one hard enough to shake the bed though she had no way of knowing that the dusky woman was actually holding herself back, transformed her into little more than a conduit of pleasure for the two women dominating her. Feeling her own arousal spike as Dahlia moaned and whimpered and twitched with each stroke, Murial tightened her thighs around the girl’s head when that tongue faltered only to gasp and let out a long, shuddering cry when their plaything’s piercing began to swirl around her clit in a maddening pleasurable dance. It was not the best she’d ever had, but the girl was clearly talented and experienced and it showed, so much so that the redhead found herself pressing down even harder, rocking her hips in a vaguely circular motion faster and faster until something snapped inside of her and she came, hard. Spasming as every muscle in her body seemed to twitch simultaneously, Murial threw her head back and shrieked her pleasure to the world, tightening her grip on Dahlia’s hair and practically grinding those sweet lips against her quaking sex.
Panting ever so slightly from her own exertions and flushed with arousal, Kiera sped up her own pace in response, thrusting faster and faster into the girl, practically feeling every twitch and shudder that wracked that helplessly bound form as she teetered on the edge. Even wrung out from her earlier orgasms, and distracted by Murial’s thrashing form riding her face, Dahlia’s endurance was honestly impressive as she managed to keep pace with the dusky woman. And yet, no matter how strong the pale girl might be, she could never hope to match the werewolf’s endless stamina, or her bottomless lust. A point that was proven seconds later when Kiera offered a savage grin full of teeth and thrust her hips down hard and fast, burying the dildo to the hilt yet again and practically kneading the bound girl’s clit between their bodies. Taken completely by surprise Dahlia’s body jerked, her limbs going taut as she pulled against her bonds with all of her might, fingers and toes curling into claws and slashing at the air as her back arched sharply and she screamed, muffled though it was by her gag and Murial’s flesh. Kiera was not finished however, she pulled back and resuming thrusting into that shuddering form, teasing a second orgasm out of the girl while she was still caught in the onslaught of the first, waves of sensation crashing together and casting her deep into the throes of subspace. By the time the dusky woman went over the edge and added her own howl of euphoric release to the mix, Dahlia let out a shuddering cry and went completely limp, eyes rolling up into the back of her head within the confines of her blindfold.
Panting with exertion, sweat covering her caramel colored skin, Kiera bit her lip as she at last came to a stop, one last trill of pleasure running up her spine as she reached out to grab Murial by the waist and pull her close until their bodies practically dovetailed together. Twisting her lover around, grinning at the surprise reflected in those glittering emerald eyes, the dusky woman captured her lips in a deep and hungry kiss while strong hands roamed over that slender, sensitive back. Shivering at her mistress’s touch, and passion, Murial responded eagerly, throwing her arms around the taller woman’s neck and burying her fingers in that silky soft hair as she opened her mouth ever so slightly and dueled with the hot and greedy tongue that tried to invade. Still, more than sated by now she did not put up that much of a fight, eventually yielding to the other woman’s passion as they slowly slipped off of the bound form beneath them to lay down at her sides, lips locked together the entire time. When the kiss finally broke, the pair grinning at each other like lunatics in the pleasant afterglow, an atmosphere only enhanced by the flickering light of the oil lamps, Murial reached out and brushed a few stray strands of hair out of Kiera’s face.
“Happy anniversary, mistress.” she whispered, almost reverently.
Chuckling softly, Kiera took that hand and tenderly kissed slender knuckles, “Are you still on about that?”
“It seemed appropriate.” the redhead offered before turning her gaze on the pale young woman stretched out between them, carefully shifting her body to mold herself against Dahlia’s side before gently easing the gag from her mouth, eliciting a shudder and a tiny moan of relief, “It’s funny though.”
“What is, pet?” Kiera asked as she settled against the bound girl’s other side and began to idly play with a few strands of raven dark hair.
“I know we were only really looking for a night of fun.” Murial mused, almost to herself as she stroked a pale cheek with the back of her hand, “But I find myself really wanting to keep this one.”
Laughing softly, teasingly, Kiera reached out and again wove a hand into her lover’s wild red hair, and pulled her into another kiss, if one that was softer and far more intimate than the wild passion they had just shared, “Not literally, I hope.”
“As amusing as it would be to keep a pretty young thing like this wrapped up like a mummy, or strapped down in a straitjacket,” Murial began, her eyes losing focus ever so slightly as she momentarily lost herself in the fantasy before shaking her head, “no, I don’t mean literally.”
“I don’t know, mistress.” Dahlia suddenly interjected in a quiet voice, having woken at some point during the conversation, a smile curling her lips and light glinting off her piercings, “I think I could be talked into it.”
Laughing again at Murial’s positively stunned expression, the redhead having clearly not expected that of all things, Kiera quickly slipped the girl’s blindfold off, watching as those brilliantly crimson eyes blinked a few times as they adjusted to the light, “Well aren’t you just the kinkiest thing, my lovely.”
Biting the corner of her lips, her expression positively radiant despite the utter mess her makeup had been reduced to, Dahlia grinned, “Maybe just a bit.”
“Perhaps we’ll keep your keys after all then.” the dusky woman teased as she bent down to nip at the bound girl’s ear and drew a hand up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, eliciting a shuddering moan as she brushed the edges of the girl’s still tender sex, “But how many times must I warn you to be careful what you wish for?”
“At least one more, mistress.” Dahlia managed before Kiera’s fingers slipped inside of her and Murial’s lips silenced her, a long tongue probing deep as the redhead tasted herself there. Crying out as a thumb pressed against her clit, and hands found her breasts, the bound girl was once again left with no choice but to endure as the two exotically beautiful women who had taken her home touched and teased and pleasured her body. Both clearly savoring the experience and neither in a hurry.
The night was still young, after all, and they had all the time in the world.
