~~Welcome to the world of Vampire: the Requiem~~
~~Two weeks later~~
~~Jack~~
He was in love. In love. He was in love he was in love.
Words failed him. He tried to capture the feeling he had in his chest, but love just seemed to come up short. No matter how hard he dug into the depths of his soul, he couldn't find some word to represent the blissful pain in his heart.
God Jack, you're becoming a fucking poet. He laughed and shook his head. Julias could have come up with something, something powerful and stirring, sobering but uplifting. Something undoubtedly cliche.
"Something amusing?" Antoinette said.
"Nope. No not a thing. Just... thinking."
It'd been two weeks since they exchanged words. Two weeks since he'd told the ancient, deadly, Daeva Prince of the city that he loved her. Two weeks since she said it back.
And he spent most of that time in her tower. Even now he sat upon the black, silk sheets of her massive bed, deep in the underground fortress of her tower basement, her next to him. He'd visited Julias the next day of course, after Antoinette and him confessed to each other. He had to tell someone, and his sire was his best friend. And his boss. Julias had given him clearance to spend time away from the job, away from money management, resource allocation, contracts, shady deals, all the Xnomina stuff. Some time to get to know his love better. A honeymoon, sort of.
His love. His love. Still didn't do it justice.
He snuggled against the back of the beautiful, white-haired woman. He was behind her, spooning against her, while the much taller, curvy vampire was leaning over a book, head propped up on her fist, elbow to the bed.
The two of them were naked, and on top of the blankets. No risk of being cold, vampires and all that. And, with the blush of life not on, their pale skin was in no risk of suddenly arousing. But that didn't mean he wasn't attracted to the gorgeous Daeva, just that he physically didn't want to have sex with her right that instant.
Which was good, because they'd had sex almost constantly for the past fourteen days. Any time Jack even looked Antoinette's way, she pinned him, and did things to him. Poor Ashley and Julee, unable to participate in their mistress's play; Antoinette and Jack drank them both dry during the past two weeks, thrice. The two girls spent most of the time asleep and exhausted, and if not for a ghoul's ability to regenerate, they'd have died from blood loss. Course they enjoyed it, the Kiss was pleasurable. But then the two were basically unconscious while Antoinette and Jack had fun.
Fun was not the right word. They made love. Love. Love...
He leaned in over her, reached out with his free hand to pull her hair back, and kissed her neck.
"Mmm." Her voice sent a chill down his spine, but it also warmed him at the same time. Her devious, powerful, confident smile, her red eyes that cut through him when she turned to look at him. "Again, my little Ventrue?"
"No. No I uh... well, I mean if you want."
"I do believe my lust has been sated. For now."
There was a sternness to her words, even when she flirted. A bite, something dangerous that made him shiver. Even now, after all they'd been through, he was still afraid of her. A little afraid, at least.
Antoinette turned over onto her back. Naked, smiling, she ran one of her feet up and down her other leg with a teasing toe, and with her further arm, reached across to touch his. He was still on his side, pressed up against her, nuzzled into her arm and leg.
Ashley and Julee were gone today. They had lives of their own, despite their servitude to the mistress. University lives, according to Antoinette. He wondered what sort of classes they took, but as his mind drifted, a finger and thumb against his chin guided him back to look down at the woman before him.
So. God. Damn. Beautiful. She was smiling at him, meeting his gaze with her own, with subtle shifts and grins of the eye. His hand reached up for her neck, her chin and cheeks, his fingertips lightly caressed the shape of her face, and her smile remained.
No words. No god damn fucking words for the feelings.
His hand walked down her neck and collar, and down along her sternum between her breasts. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't really, really into her huge breasts, the way their mass pulled to the sides of her ribcage, the way her dark nipples contrasted against her pale skin. No blush of life, so everything was a little less... lively. But he'd gotten used to seeing a dead thing in the mirror, and dead or not, Antoinette was beautiful.
And the most amazing part was how she let him. She just smiled, purred, and combed her hair over her shoulder with one hand as his fingers danced down her flat stomach, wide hips, her slender waist, long curvy legs. Even as his fingers teased over her bare mons, between her thighs, and back up along her waist, she only smiled; grinned a little too. If he wasn't careful, he'd provoke the playful feline and be quickly reminded that she was a tiger, not a house cat to pet.
He never did know when to quit. His fingers drifted up to her breasts, and he slid them underneath where the nearest one was flattened to her ribs with its weight. He cupped it, let the soft mass spill over his palm and fingers, and offered a couple of gentle, massaging squeezes. Fingers drifted up to her nipple, and he traced her areola with a slow touch, before he reached out to cup her further breast and do the same. He stared at how the weight of it made it shift and flow, jiggle lightly when he nudged it with a little more force, and how, despite its weight flattening it to her body, it was still full of volume and shape.
She had enormous breasts.
Each touch along her body was tempting fate. Would she pounce him now? Later? Pin him and do things to him? Threaten him with delights for tomorrow night? Or torture him sexually for crossing a line? He shivered with the memories. He was playing with fire, touching her so directly, obviously, without even asking. But she liked it when he did that, even as she apparently loved to punish him for it too.
But, for now, she did nothing. He shifted around a little to get in the nook of her arm and body, underneath her shoulder, and set his head against her chest above her breast. With his body still against her side, him on his side, his free hand held her waist, and hugged her close as he buried himself in her.
With one of her arms now behind him, her fingers drifted up and down his back, and danced along his spine before stroking his buzzed hair.
"You return to work tonight, do you not?" she said.
"Yeah. I... really don't want to. Madam Turio will—"
"Maria will keep her claws to herself, or I will rip out her innards and feed her the ashes."
Jack gulped on nothing. A split moment of ice in the ancient Daeva's eyes, and then gone a moment later as she smiled, and pushed Jack onto his back. Positions reversed, she was the one cuddling into his side, him lying down on his spine. Being much taller than him, she leaned over him, pressed her heavy breasts into his chest, and planted a kiss on his nose.
"I do not lie," she said. "Maria knows her place. And besides, little Ventrue, she does not know you are the one who killed Lucas. She assumes it was I, or my sheriff, and that is an assumption she should continue to make." Her hands drifted up and down his body, same as he had her, caressing fingers teasing along the indentions of his small, lean body, his abs, and down his legs before tickling back up to his chin. Each touch sent more shivers up his spine as she made the smallest growl.
The beast inside him trembled underneath hers, but at the same time, welcomed her.
And she knew it too. She put her lips to his ear, and sneaked soft kisses along his earlobe while her hand circled his navel. He dared not move, not when she was in this mood, unless he wanted to upset the ancient Prince. And he liked her in this mood.
Two steps away from a BDSM kink here, Jack. Nothing wrong with that though. Being tied up and at Antoinette's mercy? He basically was every night anyway. It was a far cry from whips and chains, but that didn't change that he was a slave to the whim of an erotic, deadly predator every time he stepped into her tower. And he loved it.
"Tomorrow night, I expect you to be here once more, two hours after dusk." The Prince sat up, still leaning over him, and with one hand holding up her weight, traced invisible circles around his nipples with the other.
"Oh? Something important?"
"Not important, no. But Ashley and Julee are quite sad, and upset. They are my pets, but also my friends, and have had little contact with me as of late. So they shall be there as well."
Oh. He nodded, and tried to hide his smile. The girls were fun, in many ways.
"But," she said, "while it is a Daeva's nature to favor and covet who they drink from, a Ventrue has no such need. And I would not be offended if you were to feed on strangers more often, my Jack. My pets need respite." Fingers found his chin, and stroked it with teasing nails. "Though I do ask that you do not sleep with your prey. While other elder Kindred may not hold sex in such import, I do feel it serves as a bond between us."
"Definitely, I... definitely. I mean, I uh... can't really imagine wanting to sleep with anyone else, in any circumstance."
"I did not expect us to spend many nights together, and for my pets to enjoy you as much as I." She laughed, nodded, and slipped her finger into his mouth enough to pluck at his bottom lip. "I am elated, and would prefer you remain mine in affairs of the bedroom, and mine alone." Another pat on the chin, and then she was up and off the bed. She reached for the corner of the huge mattress, plucked her silk robe — always silk — from the edge, and slipped it on with a casual but practiced flare. She didn't tie it up though, but stood there, the hem of the robe against the sides of her exposed breasts. And when he looked her up and down, cause god damn he had to, she smirked.
"So, I um... guess we're different than what most vampires do?"
"Perhaps in some cities, controlled by other Princes. In Dolareido, I do hope to encourage physical pleasures as much as other joys." And finally, with a tiny flick of her wrist he barely noticed, she pulled the robe over her and tied it before moving toward the door. "For now, I have business to attend to. I do expect to see you tomorrow night, Mister Terry."
He nodded, and scampered around for his clothes. "I'll be here! Definitely."
"And... you should speak with Damien at some point, my little Ventrue."
He froze; bad timing. He fell over onto his knee and shoulder with one leg in his pants.
