The Travels of Dominique Ch 2

Dominique sinks thankfully into the deep leather seat of Jarod's Jaguar, sighing as the heat switched on, warming her long legs. Crossing her legs, she leans her head back against the seat, glancing over at Jarod with a sly smile.

"I do so love your self-indulgent side, Jarod. Only the very best for you. Does that old couple still work for you, catering to your every whim? Or did they become suspicious and have to be replaced?"

Narrowing his eyes, Jarod returns to Dominiques look before returning his attention to the road, smoothly taking a turn before answering her question.

"Arthur and Martine retired from service not long after walking in on that little scene you left. I am sure that they had several questions about the blood on my clothing, carpet, and couch, but their, what was it you called it, overly generous wages kept them from asking too many questions. I think that they were just happy, when all was said and done, to have you out of their lives."

Dominique, widening her eyes in mock innocence, smiles sweetly.

"But Jarod, what could you ever mean? I am absolutely positive that Martine adored me."

Seeing the scowel that began to mark Jarod's face, she shrugs her shoulders indifferently.

"Well, she should have adored me, even if she didn't. What does it matter anyway? She was only a mortal."

Turning in her chair, Dominique gives Jarod a seductive smile, reaching out a hand to run a finger down the side of his neck, her hand continuing on its path downward, slowly caressing, until his hand over hers stops its downward movement.

"Not here, not now, Dom. The roads are icy, and I have to be able to concentrate on what I am doing."

"What on earth for? Jarod? Have you become worried about your health? Wish to live a long life and die of old age? I hate to be the one to have to tell you this, but you are already well over 700 years old. I seriously doubt that you are going to die of old age."

"If this car were to wreck, and you and I were to die, it would not be a large matter of consequence, I agree, but Dom, my love, what about all of those people along the street? They will not just sit back up and stretch as if they had awakened from a short nap, would they? Once they die, that is all they will ever have, just a cold, dark grave."

Seeing her mystified look, Jarod sighs deeply, and tries another direction.

"Very well, Dominique, if we were to die in such a public manner, and be carted off to the morgue, we would be spending our afternoon thinking of ways to escape unnoticed, and then have to try to create new identities for ourselves, all rather than climbing into my nice soft bed and discovering all of the wonderful tortures that your evil little mind has been coming up with over the past six years. Does that sound like as much fun to you?"

Heaving a great sigh, smiling to herself as his eyes dropped to her breasts as she did so, Dominique crosses her arms across said chest, turning and leaning back in her seat once more.

"Very well, Jarod, I will behave myself for now, but do please drive faster."

The tree-lined streets continue to pass outside the windows, and soon they come to a more residential area of the city, one lined with towering old trees and gated estates. Pulling up to one of the ornate gates, Jarod reaches up and presses a button on the ceiling of the Jaguar. As the gates slowly open inward, Jarod inches in, revealing snow covered lawns that lead up to a small but comfortable chateau. Pulling up to the front, Jarod steps out of the car and walks around to open the door for Dominique as the butler opens the front door. Standing up, Dominique wraps her arm around Jarod, as much for his body warmth as anything, for her brief dash in the cold air toward the warmth of the house. Standing in the entry, Dominique looks around, seeing the study door open and a blazing fire in the grate. Turning so that the door frame surrounded her, Dominique raises an eyebrow questioningly at Jarod.

"So, Jarod, do you wish to beard the dragon?"

As their eyes meet, a shared memory begins to form of their last meeting, just over six years ago....

They are in the study, a fire in the fireplace creating a cozy orange glow to the darkening room. The servants, Arthur and Martine, have Christmas Carols playing cheerfully on the stereo. Why he allows them so much freedom Dom has never been able to understand. Jarod has given them their Christmas present, a basket filled with gourmet delicacies and a vintage bottle of Champagne. Dom smiled, remembering the trip to France about 40 years before when he had bought that Champagne.

His gift to her had been something of a joke between them. Flannel pajamas, complete with feet. He told her that now she could stop complaining about the cold so often, because she had something to keep her warm. there had also been an assortment of Christmas candies, most of which she ignored, pushing the chocolates aside as if they were poison. There was one thing that had a bit of potential, though. Picking up the candy cane, more of a peppermint staff than a peppermint stick, she unwraps it and, looking directly into Jarod's eyes, ran her tongue slowly up the candy before lowering her mouth over it. Dominique smiles as she sees Jarod begin to breathe more quickly, his eyes darkening.

Standing up, she continues to slowly lick the candy, walking very slowly in front of him. As she approaches, Jarod stands in front of her, reaching out. Instead of walking into his outstretched arms, she hands him the candy, and then reaches down to undo the fly of his pants, pushing them down so that they drop to the floor. She then pushes him so that he is again sitting, an erection beginning to make itself apparent. Taking the candy from his hand, Dominique kneels in front of him, and again sucks the candy deeply into her mouth. Slowly withdrawing it, she runs her tongue up the side of the candy.

"Do you know how much fun peppermint can be? It causes tingles and prickles that are simply delicious. Did you know that?"

With a very cat-like smile, Dominique runs her tongue along the candy again, this time leaning forward to then run her tongue along Jarods erection in a very similar fashion, sighing softly at his sharp intake of breath. Lifting her head once more, Dominique again licks daintily at the peppermint, gazing with mounting passion of her own into Jarods eyes. When her tongue is again coated in the sticky mint, she again runs her tongue over his penis, starting with the head and working down slowly, then leaning back slightly to blow gently on his erection, again causing a sharp intake of breath before she takes him completely into her mouth in one smooth movement, moaning as he grabs the back of her head, forcing his penis more deeply into her throat. As he begins to fuck her mouth, she begins to feel her own reactions beginning to build, hotter and deeper. The fact that she could make him react to her so strongly, when after so many centuries he should be rather immune to sexual wiles, had always been very addictive to her. As she feels her own orgasm beginning to build within her, she reaches over to lightly pinch the sensitive skin just behind his balls, causing him to arch and spurt into her mouth. Shaking with her own orgasm at the display of her power over him, she moans and begins to swollow, continuing to work his penis until he has drained completely into her, coming to an end of her own orgasm just as he himself finishes, his breathing harsh in her ears.

Dominique remains on the floor by the couch as they both recover, continuing to lick at the candy. As the fire begins to die down, Dominique begins to shiver. Looking down at her, Jarod chuckles, patting her gently on the head.

"You silly little thing, I got those flannels for you so that you would be warm, and there you sit, like a child, sitting on the floor licking your candy. You could always go and stir the fire, if you were feeling cold."

Hearing his words, she could hardly believe them. Sitting on the floor like a child? Her initial reason for being on the floor had little to do with childish things. Being compared to a child filled her mind with blinding rage. Looking down at the candy in her hands, once a red and white striped pole, now a rather leathal looking white stake, she turns to kneel in front of him once more, but this time, she raises both arms and drives it with unerring accuracy deeply into his heart. A look of shock fills his eyes as she pulls it out again, just before they dim, and he slumps over. Within a few moments, his eyes again open, and he finds her watching him calmly, the now bloody candycane still in her hands.

"I have never been silly, and it has been well over 530 years since anyone could, with any legitimacy, call me a child. I would thank you to remember that."

Standing once more, she looks down at the candy with distaste. Walking over to the fireplace, she drops the candy into the fire, watching briefly as the flames begin to sizzle and pop as they consume the sugar. Walking over to where she had taken off her shoes upon entering, she slipped them back on. Slamming the door as she leaves the room, she retrieves her coat from the hall before opening the front door and walking out into the snowy night.

"You know, Dominique, I now have almost the same intensity of disfavor for peppermint that you have for chocolate. How could you possibly do something as incredible as that, and something as horrible as that, with the very same thing? The memory of that encounter has fueled both my dreams and my nightmares for six years now. You are both an angel and a demon, my love, do you know that?"

Walking back toward Jarod, Dominique reaches up to caress his cheek softly before raking her nails roughly across, leaving a trail of red welts as she did. Grabbing her wrist, he twists her arm behind her back, pulling her to him roughly.

"Jarod, darling, it was your own fault, if you think of it. After so many years you should know better than to anger me."

Raising up on her toes, Dominique kisses Jarod, feeling his lips begin to open, holding him closer to herself with her one free arm as he deepens the kiss. Lifting his mouth from hers, he looks deeply into her eyes.

"Why is it, Dom, that no matter how much we fight, I just can't seem to turn my back on you completely? Even when I know I am doomed to be tormented and destroyed by you every time you leave me, I can't keep you out of my life?"

Tilting her head just a little to the side, the ends of her hair caressing the sleeve of his coat, she looks at him quietly for a moment before answering.

"It is simple, really, Jarod. You love me, and you want to believe that I love you as much. So you keep letting me back into your life, hoping that this time the combination will work. And it will, for a while. Until one of us gets bored again, or something else becomes just a little bit more interesting. You see, Jarod, neither of us is made for a normal life, but that is what you try to create here."

"Do I matter at all to you, Dom? Even just a little?"

"Oh Jarod, of course you do. You mean more to me than I can say."

Twisting out of his arms, she slithers out of her wool coat, tossing it to the waiting butler. Walking across the rug covering most of the floor of the entry, she pauses at the foot of the stairs.

"Now, however, what I would like to do is find that bed you keep promising me. Is it in the same place upstairs, or did you move it?"

Turning before he could answer, she hurries up the stairs as the sound of his laughter fills her ears.