A soft groan slipped from her lips as her vision began to clear, her eyes fluttering open to take in her surroundings. Where was she? How had she gotten here? All she could see were murky shapes, clouded by patches of shadows.
"Think," she whispered to herself as she shook her head, the soft motion making her vision blur once more, and she frowned softly. Raising one hand, she found the movement hampered. She has shackled! Her eyes widened at this and she tried her other arm, it too, was shackled, as were her ankles, bound to this table upon which she lay, the rough surface now registering in her foggy mind.
The soft creak of hinges drew her attention, and she turned her head where a sliver of soft light filtered through the doorway, now revealed as someone pushed open the old, wooden door. Then he was there, and it flooded back to her in a rush, making her gasp. She remembered the alley and the soft, whispering voice, which had drawn her; and his eyes, oh God, his eyes. She had never seen such pools of darkness before, such shimmering orbs, and they had looked straight through her, as through seeing to the depths of her soul.
Soft footfalls sounded through the room and she locked her blue eyes onto the dark shape which drew near to her, her heart hammering in her chest, and the voice, his voice, whispered out in it's rich, seductive tones.
"You are awake lil one, this is good."
The very sound of his voice made her feel as though she had no will, it seemed to stroke every nerve in her body, to light fires inside her which she had never known before, and she stared up at him mutely, unable to speak, to utter even a soft whisper as she watches him. His hand descended through the shadows, soft fingers playing gently over her cheek, down the soft curve of her neck, tracing further down, over the swell of one breast, pausing there, he cupped the firm globe In his hand and watched her, a smile curving his lips.
She felt her body respond, the nipple hardening in his grip, the soft flow of electricity from his lightest touch and she whimpered, the first sound she had made since he entered the room. His smile only grew as he heard this, his gaze locking with hers, knowing soon, she would be his, in every way he desired, and he desired so very much. Mortal women were such wonderful playthings.
He leaned down towards her, taking in a deep unneeded breath, catching the sweet scent of her mortality as it flowed through her veins like nectar, a rumbling growl of growing need rippling up his throat. The sound of his growl made her wet, instantly, and she shivered atop the table, her eyes wide as she felt him so close to her, his hand still plying the soft flesh of her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers slowly, teasing the hard bud. Finally releasing the nipple, his hand drifted lower still, brushing over the top of her skirt, teasing her throbbing flesh gently as his voice whispered in her ear.
"You wish this, don't you, lil one? To feel my touch, to feel my desire?"
His voice again made a shiver move through her and she found herself nodding, managing to push a few words out in a broken whisper. "Yes, oh yes, please!" Shocked at the words even as they slipped from her. What was she doing?? She knew inside she should be telling him to stop, to be pleading for her release, and yet she found herself wanting him more than she had ever wanted anyone in her life. Her entire body sang out to be touched by him. As though he could feel this, he laughed, low, deep ripples of sound as he rose over her; his hands tearing her shirt open in one impossibly quick motion, exposing her full, ripe breasts to his gaze.