TBD (in progress)

Munster, Ireland circa 400 AD

Scented smoke wafts from the pyre of wood, lit at dawn and carefully attended, in celebration of Beltane. Naked bodies weaving in a slow circle around the bonfire, while voices rise in chanting praise, welcoming the coming of the summer months of long days, cool evenings and the arrival of the Man. The Dark One who has promised to take them away from this pestilent land, ease the constant ache in their bellies, rewarding their loyalty and devotion with wine, women and song. The small gathering near the straw and mud hut held that promise close to their hearts, knowing the Man would provide for His people well and rule with a strong hand.

Nearby, on a thick, lush carpet of grass, bodies sprawled, rolling and twisting of limbs entwined, engaged in orgasmic bliss. Couples frolicked over the sweet scented ground, seeking to appease that aloof pleasure god, hoping for the seed they plant to reach fertile wombs. Others sat on their haunches, watching the festivities, their bodies swaying, glazed eyes signaling the euphoric effects of engorging on Beltane wine. Screams and moans competed with the cacophony of chanting by the Druids who stood within the dark confines of their cloaks, eyes barely visible to the onlooker, their lips in constant motion, hailing their god as He passes by them without notice, slow fluid steps taking Him directly to the hut and the woman held captive within.

Sky blue eyes wide with fear and apprehension, inhaling the smoke from the fire that blazed not far from where she is being kept. A sob escaping her throat, resigned to whatever fate the gods have ordained, body trembling despite her acceptance. Firm youthful flesh coated with sweat and goose bumps, her fingers clenched into fists, tugging wildly at the ties that bind them. She hates the fear, knowing it pours from her lithe body and of course, the Druids, with their sharp sense of smell, rejoice in that scent. Curling her form into a small knotted ball, knees drawn up to below her chin, arms wrapped protectively around her legs, unable to separate the binds at her ankles. Raising her head at the rise of voices in welcome and the music and chanting of the cloaked figures beyond the flimsy walls as the celebration continues.

In the dark recesses of her mind she was aware of being past the time of first mating, being ten and eight summers, marking her as the perfect virginal sacrifice. The Druids were always sacrificing to the gods, hoping to end the spell of disease and famine that persists despite their concerted efforts. She had watched so many innocents being led to slaughter, their hearts ripped from their chest and held high in homage to the pagan gods that never answered. Another shiver ripples through her tightly coiled body, the sounds of the Feast of Beltane rising higher as more of her people joined in the festival.

Thirst consumes her, running the bare tip of her tongue along her lower lip to moisten it. Resting her head on bent knees, long strands of tangled gold streaming over sun kissed shoulders, curling down her back. Salty tears trailing over flushed cheeks, her mind filled with fear and unanswered questions. She feels the cool air within the dampness of the hut, her short shift of leather having ripped down one side when they roughly hauled her from mother’s arms. Squeezing her eyes shut, tears seeping from the corners, thoughts of her family swirling around her, hauntingly so. With a certainty beyond her normal senses, she knew they would never see her again, alive.

A cold knot of fear rising in her chest as silence settles around the hut. Approaching footsteps signal the return of the two Druids who took her captive in the early hours of the morning. A deep voice, giving commands…followed by the shuffling of feet to fulfill them. That voice! She remembers it well, springing forth from her nightmares. Out of curiosity, she had secretly witnessed a Sabbath, listening to his beguiling words to the Horned God.

Heart hammering, threatening to explode forth from her chest, while fingers twist in helpless fury, trying in vain to untie the leather knots at her ankles. The harsh swing of the door grating her nerves, taking a quick glance towards the doorway and the Man before scooting backwards on her rump over the furs and into the shadows, her back greeting the wall with a dull thud. He bent low to enter, flanked on either side by her captors. A tall man, with the cloak of youth, seeming no more than a score in age, but knowing He has been around for many, many years. A soft whimper leaving her moist lips, lifting her head to that voice...the voice of Kiernan, The Dark One.

“Leave us!” Dismissing the two priests that huddle near the door with a wave of a hand, He takes a few steps into the dimly lit room, body moving with the grace of a panther, seeking its prey. His face void of expression, presenting a total mask that frightens the girl further into the darkness. Black hair framing a handsome face, highly arched black brows above an aquiline nose, skin the pale color of all the Druids, especially those that avoid the sun as much as possible. Chest wide, hairless, the muscles flexing along sinewy limbs giving the impression of strength, His entire body emanating pure power. This was a Man used to issuing commands and having them fulfilled, without hesitancy.

Ebony eyes slitting, peering through the dimness of the room, yet giving away nothing that would ease the fear that rolls off her in waves. Inhaling the rich tangy sweat of the girl, signaling her heart has tripled its beat, fluttering like a lost bird within her chest. Slow deliberate strides taking Him closer to the girl, dropping His voice, emitting a low muttering coo of celtic words, only spoken to ease her fears. The urge to soothe and protect the trembling child rising, yet the words did nothing to still the deep fear that abides within her heart. He can taste it, much like He could scent the blood of an animal. Still, she was magnificent! Perfect in every way, from the tip of her aristocratic nose to the curl in her toes, she would take the place of the little one He so recently lost.

Eyes widening further as fear shoots down her spine, viewing the Man while He stands, speaking in a strange tongue, noticing the blood and sweat upon His daunting figure. She clenches her legs more tightly together, hearing the dismissal of the others. Flesh turning cold, clammy, her heart skipping a few beats in time with His approach, eyes immediately riveting to the sword protruding between His thighs, giving an audible gasp at its thickness.

Crouching next to her on the furs, startling Himself with a bit of hesitation, recovering to extend the back of one hand to gently roam over her face and neck…down the swells of her breasts that oh so enticingly make Him throb with the need to claim…to take what is His! He utters words of adoration of her beauty, while His hand continues its exploration and discovery of mortal flesh, warm to the touch, the scent of her skin intoxicating…the little mewls from her throat like music to His ears.

Shaking her head wildly, noticing the steel length of His cock, hearing the tender croon of words, still unintelligible to her ears, the cool feathery wisps of His breath wafting over her flesh. Jerking away from the caress of cold fingers against her flushed cheek, stricken to the core, knowing this Man will take what He wants, never minding her feeble attempts to deter Him from His goal. Silky strands of gold sticking to her now sweat drenched flesh. Falling back into the furs at the tentative exploration of her nubile body, the rough binds at her ankles being torn away with a quick flick of His wrist. Separating her legs, widening her thighs, exposing her pink slit lewdly for a closer inspection. Muscles quivering in protest, holding her breath, lashes sweeping down, neck arched, knowing she cannot, must not refuse! Still, a whimper of protest does bubble to her lips. "No..no...please..." a soft sob...wondering if He can hear her feeble words.

A slight inclination of His head, fully aware of her whimpering, kneading the warm flesh of her inner thigh, moving to place His weight over her slender limbs, keeping her immobilized while He satisfies His curiosity of the flesh. The girl belonged to Him, since birth in fact, the mating of the Druid and her peasant mother perfectly planned by the old Fer Himself. Another soft croon of words uttered in a sing-song tone, designed to sooth the most savage of beasts. It was shameful that she recognized none of them, more than likely the influence of the people that raised her. Those simple barbarians, brash, useful at times, but without knowledge of the finer things in life, like fine wine or a woman of perfumed flesh. Light brushes of His fingertips across silken skin, smudged with sweat and dirt. Sensing the tension ease somewhat in the girl, He quietly asks, ”Aine, my child…why do you fear me?”

Amazement causing her lashes to lift, eyes seeking His own, her fear subsiding somewhat, but still the cold taste of it remained in her mouth. Lower lip trembling, replying in a hushed tone..”I know who You are…what You are” drawing a ragged breath of air into her lungs, her legs growing numb under the full weight of His body. Inward sigh, knowing it was a useless conversation at best. He would go back to taking, using…then giving her to the Druids for their pagan rites. A warm splash of a tear settles on the large fingers that cup her chin, allowing piercing eyes to drink her in. The darkness becomes Him, making skin glow with warmth that she knows does not reside in Him at all. A hot stab of anger in her belly…hissing..”blood and flesh eaters, the whole lot…” voice rising to a scream…”GET THEE BACK TO HELL, DEVIL’S SPAWN!!!” chest heaving as a goblet of spit spears from her lips to land on His chin. Snapping her head to the side to release the grip on her chin, defiance making her cheeks flame with indignation.

Dark chuckle at the child’s temper tantrum…glad to witness back bone, she would need it in the days ahead. Wiping the spittle off his chin with the back of his hand, deliberately heaving himself up at bit higher, almost fully covering her shuddering body…whispering…”is that all Aine? Or do you just fear submitting to One such as me? Eternity being laid at your feet, while countless others die.” Pausing for a moment for emphasis, “There are other women just DYING…to be in the position which you are now afforded. “ Dropping his voice to a soft croon, “They are only too happy to give their life force…to give themselves… for the welfare of their people.” Drawing the pad of His finger over a tear stained cheek, soft brush over a full lip, murmuring…”so beautiful..” cock pulsing now as it springs up against his belly.

Blue eyes awash in tears, streaming down her face, lip trembling beneath the tender touch of his fingertip. Shame filled her heart at the thought of letting her people suffer through another winter, choking on the words she so wanted to scream in his face. Bright red splotches stained her cheeks, pushing defiance momentarily aside to allow her body to melt easy up against his cold flesh, giving a little shudder. She was well aware of how many women would rejoice to be in her place, yet, aside from a few children, not many were left that hadn’t lain with a man. It is taboo to sacrifice an unclean woman. Knowledgeable peasants made sure their young girls were taken as soon as maturity set in, sometimes by their fathers, to save them from the sharp thrust of a dagger in their hearts. Lifting wet lashes to gaze into those fathomless pits, she whispered back, “aye, girl knows this to be true…and will endeavor to praise the gods for the honor bestowed upon me.”

Husky laugh at her sudden meekness, grasping the front of the leather shift, with one swift movement of clawed fingers, rendered it in two, leaving her flesh fully exposed beneath the weight of his body. His eyes taking in skin, smudged with blue bruises from the bindings, cursing the Druids under his breath for their callous disregard for this exquisite creature. A slight raise of his hips, the purplish crown begging entrance to her silky softness, the folds separating with ease as her body fully relaxes beneath his weight. A calloused hand kneading the supple pear of her breast, avoiding ripping her flesh with sharp talons, keeping his darkened lust-filled gaze on her face, enjoying the look of surprise in her eyes. Gruff growl, “feel me little one…feel me enter you…you will be mine for eternity…”

The wide crown beginning to penetrate the tight tunnel...back arching in an effort to thwart the Master from his taking of her. Fear overriding her natural common sense. Velvet sheath tightening, yet still the thick snake penetrates deeper, slowly inch by inch being consumed by her stretching canal. The pain unbearable, gritting her teeth to stifle the scream that threatens to spill from her lips. The instrument of her torture continued to steadily rip through sensitive membranes, spearing deeply into that moist canal, burning a path to her belly. Instinctively raising her legs to bend at the knee, thighs wide and splayed for ease in his rhythmic movements.

“That’s it girl….so warm…so tight. Such an innocent…and mine, since the day you were born. Made for me!!!” grunting in satisfaction as his hips rotate, inching deeper before bottoming out, head jabbing into her cervix…”nowww…take all of me…all of what…” gasping…” I have to give…”

Taking deep breaths, sobs bubbling from her lips, his words soothing, yet the pain of breeching the tight ring of her virginity makes her wince and writhe. A warm gush of her virgin blood coating the spearing shaft, her voice hitching higher "Noooooooo......Masterrrrr..." fear tinged in her every word. Blue eyes flying open as the thick meat stabs up against her womb, sharp searing pain ripping through her as Kiernan claims her tiny body for His own.
Swallowing the lump of panic lodged in her throat, a steady flow of endless tears stream down her cheeks, the pain renewing with each powerful thrust that Kiernan takes. The velvet sheath accommodating its girth and length, stretching fully, as flesh strikes flesh. The fear subsiding as another emotion replaces it...the sounds of their coupling penetrating her ears...the obscene slurp of her cunt as it massages the lengthy organ...giving little clenches and receiving his grunts of pleasure as her reward. Rocking hips forward as he raises her higher, legs tightly wrapped around his waist, mimicking the age old rhythm of an animalistic rut. The smell of sex, mingling with blood as his cock spears deeper into her womb, the resulting roar of his pleasure loud in her ears.

Shaking to her very soul as her first orgasm blooms, rushing through her just as his cock erupts into her belly, spewing its child bearing seed to plant in her fertile womb. Her fingers digging into the sinewy muscles of his shoulders, holding on for dear life as she rides that wave with him. The words bursting forth from her lips just as her body shudders, "Masssssterrrrrrr!!!! this...girlllll...ohhhhh!!!!" The full impact of his seed mingling with her own blood tinged silky essence...dripping from her now stretched hole to stain the furs with their first mating. Reveling in the aftermath of sexual bliss, still not sure what exactly happened....just that it felt good to have Master deep within her belly...just like the animals she has watched.

A harsh gasp emitting from Kiernan’s lips, already the hunger is upon him…the need to feed off his…what is now his…forevermore. His sweet child, lying within the safety of his arms, he gives a twitch of his cock to signal that he wants more…so much more. Parting his lips, hot breath stealing over the creamy expanse of her neck, his lips barely grazing the flesh…sweet nuzzle before the meal…the pulse of her blood so strong, as strong as the beat of her heart. Thudding, thudding….now…sinking incisors deeply into the unmarked skin, hearing her startled grunt…the fear, as her heart races, the warm rich fluid flowing into his mouth, pooling at the bottom before swallowing, drinking …a myriad of thoughts stealing through his own mind, not his thoughts…hers. A frightened child seeking its mother, stumbling, falling in the deep mud of the rain swept moor. A horse, squealing with fright…its eyes wide, the whites showing before it rears and tears away. A silky blue garment floating around girlish curves, the fabric sewn with loving care by her mother’s nimble fingers, a girlish giggle as she attends her first dance on feast day. These visions continued to permeate his mind while he feasted. Listening to the rapidly fluttering bird within her chest that starts to falter, skipping…her soft pleading cries filling his ears, yet still he drinks.

A deeply drawn breathe, senses acute to every sound...every movement within the dim light of the hut. She is hardly surprised by a voice spoken as if from far away, familiar… yet not, perhaps a figment of her very active imagination. Giving a shudder with the swift twist of her neck, the razor pierce of the needle like fangs sinking into her flesh, the tight seal of cold lips against warm skin. Sweet bliss filling her soul, she looses consciousness for a brief moment, the thud of her heart within her chest sounding loud in her own ears. Thousands of thoughts, feelings, faces…some old, some young, they swirl through the hazy mists of her mind, intermingling with vivid dreams, drowning, slipping into the dark abyss of night, dragging deep breaths into her lungs.

Kiernan murmurs over his suckling, “Don’t fight it Aine…go with it…let it take you away from this stagnant world and into my own! Do you want to live??? DO YOU!!??”

The heat from his body searing through the numbness, the cold chills that sweep through her body. Eyes rolling back into her skull, writhing in pain and pleasure....a mixture of both...the little death...hovering just on the edge. Sensing his withdrawal rather than witnessing it...quivering, loins soaked with passionate essence...a mixture of blood, semen, sweat and musky leavings.

So easy to slide to the darkness, heartbeat a dull thud, barely noticeable...a fierce point of light spreading from her belly, resisting the curled finger of death for a few moments to give a ragged whisper..."yessssss......I want to live!!!...".

Eyes of blue flying wide open to gaze into the fathomless pits of his own, seeing the glaze of sweat over his dark and handsome features...the cruel glint of his teeth...her voice a bare whisper "What do I need to do?"

Stealing back to the inky blackness that beckons, loosing consciousness again...a heavy weight in his arms as her spirit struggles to live, while her body gives into the pleasurable bliss and kiss of death.

Kiernan arches a dark brow, narrowing his piercing reddish gaze to watch the emotions writhe over her beautiful face. Resignation to what fate has decreed written in the depths of those blue, now glassy eyes, seeing his reflection so clearly. Pausing before answering her question, letting time stretch from seconds to minutes, yet still he continues to watch the rosy stain of life leave her flesh, feeling the cold seep into her limbs. He has no doubts, never has, the child is now HIS. That she would learn to love him in time is a foregone conclusion. He hasn’t survived this long not to know or deal with the consequences of what he is about to do. Slowly lowering Aine’s body to the furs with such tenderness belying One of great strength, he draws a sharply clawed finger over her lips, parting them just as the flame of life in her eyes dims to a bare flicker. He places his wrist just inches above those pale cool lips, snagging pulsing blue veins with a hooked claw and ripping them open. Feral grunt of satisfaction as his blood spurts, splattering over her lips and painting them red. Growling out, “You must feed Aine!! Now my darling!! Feed, fill your belly and rejoice. You are mine, for all time…never to leave my side except for the hunt. Sweet little one, you will learn to feed the hunger and to crave it. Forever shall you remain young, beautiful, courageous, fearing no mortal man or woman. The beasts will scamper at your feet, the earth tremble when you walk. Feed my love, my only one!”

Voices, so many voices…rising and falling in cadence, one in particular that is insistent. Feed it tells her…feed? Why? Would it not be better to just drift and leave this shell of skin and bones behind and sink into the abyss? Twilight sweeps over her once more, swallowing her whole. Trembling as every limb in her body seems to have turned to ice…so heavy…too heavy to raise an arm to ward off the rolling waves of death. Warm droplets splash over lips, hands rising in frantic need, gripping his wrist with fierce intensity, mouth wide as the heated ruby droplets literally fill and pool at the bottom of her mouth. Her tongue dipping in the viscous liquid with renewed hunger, like none she ever experienced, surges through her belly.

She was ravenous!! For what she wasn’t clear, thoughts were muddy, just this overwhelming need to lock her mouth on his spurting wrist, tongue dabbing over the self-inflicted wound, drinking fully of his life force. The dreams that flash through her mind in rapid succession cajole her out of that soft blanket of darkness and into another world constructed of simple small huts, gray clouds, dying fields of what was once thriving farmland. The visions center on a small child…a boy…dark haired, showing physical signs of the man he would become in time, dark scowling brows over ebony orbs, pink ruddy cheeks, broad frame, thin to the point of being merely bones with hanging flesh, picking wildflowers by the side of a dirt road and arranging them with loving care. She smiles despite the rush of blood filling her mouth, threatening to choke on her rich meal, for she recognizes the child and rejoices in his purity and innocence.

A quick flash of gray, moving forward in time…seeing stones being cast at the boy, more fully grown, standing protectively in front of a young woman, taking each rock’s glancing blow with a show of bruises. The rising curses from the crowd sending them seeking the dirt road, banished from the cluster of small huts and barren fields. The two travel lands which seem to skitter across her mind as rapidly as she dines, giving some insight to the beginning. Gasping, her mind clearly registering Kiernan’s reactions and the intensity of one dream…of a demon…so unbelievably tall, thickly muscled and broad, skin dark as night, glowing ruby eyes, with an ebony wing span that resembles the angels of her own peculiar nightmares. The demon stands before the frightened woman, grunting out unintelligible words, the back of one clawed hand slamming across her cheek with such force, she falls to the ground, stunned, but tries to crawl away. Snarling with ancient lust, the demon rips the woman’s flimsy garments from her back, roughly flips her, covering her body and taking his pleasure in the forced mating. The woman’s cries of pain and anguish so loud, its as if Aine is witnessing the abomination, not being fed the memory, recoiling as the smell of brimstone fills her nostrils.

Another swallow, the child of her visions has grown, become man, no hint of the woman in these dreams. A closer look yields an astonishing thought, the man has not changed. The lines of time have blurred, years have turned to centuries, centuries to millennium, and yet, no signs of aging can be detected on the handsome One. Aine’s heart begins beating rapidly, filled with strength and vitality. A flush of desire stains her cheeks, drawing more of his life’s essence into her belly.

Slightly dizzy, Kiernan withdraws the bleeding wrist from her sealed lips, paying no attention to her sharp cry of protest. He does note how flushed her skin has become, how those sapphire blue eyes have developed a reddish cast and is aware of life surging and pulsing through her slim body. The thought of taking her once more skitters across his mind, but he discards it. Instead, he graces her questioning eyes with a warm smile and flicks a talon against a ruby nipple, simply whispering…”Sleep.”

London, England ~ 1769A

Lady Carolyn smiles graciously into the dark eyes of the stranger who is intent on being asked to join her. The gentleman had helped her into the waiting carriage, his gaze sweeping the interior as he waited for the inevitable invitation. Her full skirts brushed against the man’s legs, taking the step up and settling into the richly appointed leather seat, turning her head slightly to acknowledge his presence, her sapphire gems dancing with delight at his look of dismay. She skillfully fluffed the long blue dress of silk, smoothing imaginary wrinkles with a wave of her hand, leaned forward and conspiratorially whispered…”Alas Sir Martin, perhaps we shall meet again. One never knows when, until given the opportunity.” She dropped her eyes to the swell in his breeches and managed a modest blush, befitting a lady of her class.

Lord Martin blinked rapidly and opened his mouth to protest her dismissal, clamping it shut at the sound of his name on her lips. He had never given her his name, yet she knew who he was. Curious, he raised the walking cane which was always readily at hand and tapped on the now closed door of the carriage…”How do you know me?? Miss? Are we acquainted?” Obvious confusion reigning over his dark handsome features with the simple utterance of his name, leaning heavily on the walking cane to take the full brunt of his weight.

The woman merely laughed at his discomfort, inhaled deeply of the night air and dismissed him without an answer, humming an unfamiliar tune under her breath. It was a warm night in the month of June, a night filled with the scent of honeysuckle and wet earth, for rain had been falling throughout the day…ahh…but the night, the night was meant for roaming, for the hunt! She dismissed the stranger with a quick wave of a scented fan and a pursing of lips into the form of a kiss, “thanks dear Sir for all your assistance this eve.” Leaning her head slightly out the window to call out to the driver to take her quickly to South Abbey, she once more inhales deeply...the scents of the night.

The carriage wheels clattered over the cobbled streets of London, rocking its lone occupant, her fan in constant motion as she peered through the small window. Her bright sapphire eyes scanned the store fronts, searching for her prey. A sudden chill shot right down her spine, making her quiver, nostrils flaring as the scent is picked up. Ruby lips parting as the hunger in her belly rises. Rapping sharply on the roof of the carriage with the fan, a signal to stop immediately, the driver calls out to the horses, staying them easily and quietly turns his head away as the sound of the carriage door opening sends a shudder through him.

Lady Carolyn swiftly descends, holding her skirts high, her face flushed with triumph and the anticipation of the feed. She quickly spies her victim, a slender female, rather inebriated from the scent emitting from her pores, who has stumbled into the dark alley between two stores. A dismal playground of the poor and one that Lady Carolyn is very familiar with. It would be days before the body is found. She takes slow deliberate steps, coming up behind the woman, inhaling a rankness about her flesh that brought dismay to the Lady’s face. Really, humans should be forced to learn about cleanliness, not a little dab here and there of crushed flowers, how about bathing fully in their lush fragrance!

She moves quickly… so quickly that the human eye is fooled into seeing nothing.

The woman in her sight hesitates for a moment, feeling an unnatural fear. Of what? She glances around, her drunken state keeping her eyes from clearly focusing. The woman waves off whatever ghosts are in the alley, stealing a hand into the pocket of her skirt to withdraw the small bottle of rye, raising it to her lips to take a sip, leaning against the brick wall for support. Blinking rapidly as her heart begins to beat rapidly within her chest, threatening to explode from her ribs…”What? Who are you?” surly words spoken without conviction, giving away the stab of fear in her heart.

The lady smells the woman’s fear and hears the pound of her heart. A steady throb of blood pulses through the woman’s veins, sending a signal to the lady’s quivering nostrils. It carried a sweet addiction of its own, overpowering, seductive…making the lady salivate. Lady Carolyn focuses her glittering blue eyes on the throbbing vein in the woman’s neck. The hunger rising swiftly, demanding to be appeased…the voices of madmen throughout the centuries screaming in anguish, urging her forward. Snarling in tormented fury, she swings her hand low to snag the tangled dirty brown tresses of the woman, yanking her off her feet, fingers closing around the slim column of her neck. She coos old Celtic words to ease the woman’s fright. Fangs distended, savagely taking the bite, feeling the squirm and writhe of the slim body as she hangs helplessly from her tight grip. Pressing a thumb against the severed artery, reveling in the resulting spurt that fills her mouth, she gulps down the coppery tasting fluid of life. The woman’s screams filling the alley as the lady’s teeth slash, leaving a gaping wound. Blood covering the lace bodice of her gown, her breasts spilling free showered in the silky fluid of life. The sweet smell of death rising to waft tenuously around the lady, fueling her blood lust and encouraging her to dine with feral ferocity, taking more of the woman’s blood than was necessary. The rank stench of an unwashed body tainting the sweetness of the kill, a bit too much for Lady Carolyn, so she decides to end the poor girl’s miserable life and release her soul. One quick jerk of her hand around the woman’s throat crushes it, snapping clear to the spine, extinguishing the miserable life within. Dropping the now lifeless body on the floor, she wipes the back of her hand across her ruby stained lips. She feels no guilt, nor remorse. The hunt was satisfactory, yet devoid of the thrill of old…the kill was necessary for her own survival. She sighs as the gazes at her elegant blood smeared fingers, shrugging her creamy shoulders, she licks each digit clean, feeling a myriad of emotions, some belonging to herself, others belonging to the woman, her hot meal satisfying to the remains of her soul.

She stiffens, feeling His presence nearby. A trickle of electricity jolting through her full belly, limbs warm with the gift of life, her skin glowing with a soft flush of rose. Running the pink tip of her tongue over her fangs, she fully turns to narrow her gaze, seeking His form from the shadows.

“Darling…I’ve saved some for you.” Ripe red lips curling into a smile, the tips of her incisors barely showing against her lower lip, glittering sapphire eyes meeting rich dark ones, as her fingers smooth the layers of lace across her bloody bodice.

Lord Seton steps closer to the discarded body of the dead woman, giving it a nudge with the toe of his boot and an amused smile at her words.

“A rather cold offering my love.” A curious tilt of his head, carefully perusing the lovely lady before reaching to caress her flushed cheek with the palm of his hand. “I prefer to drink from the source.”…lowers his head to sample her stained lips, flicking a tongue over the droplets of ruby that trickle down her chin. He slides his hand around her neck, pulling her closer, drinking deeper from the well of her mouth, feeling the pulse of her heart, the shuddering of her body against his hard frame.

Sweet sigh of poignant release, getting lost in his kiss, the flames of passion rising between them…for centuries it has endured, burning brighter with each passing moment. She sways closer with an intimate press of her body to his…wanting him, needing him. Tongue dancing within the warm confines of his mouth, twirling around his own, beckoning him to her warm, wet playground. Rubbing her crotch wantonly against his firmly muscled thigh, a sweet moan escapes from her throat.

Lord Seton inhales the scent of his beloved, thick fingers stealing through the strands of her hair, pulling it down from its carefully coiled state, curls tumbling over her creamy shoulders. Tearing his mouth away as he pushes her back against the cold brick of the building, gazing into her eyes, his hand reaching down to gather the rustling lace of her dress, pulling it up to expose the creamy expanse of her black hose encased legs. A feral grunt as he feels her arms wind around his neck, while his fingers seek that silky flesh between her thighs. His head lowers once more, cold lips steal over the warm flesh of her throat, nuzzling, lapping softly with the flat of his tongue, enjoying every quiver of her body against his. His hand roaming higher, grazing over the swollen piece of flesh that signals her desire and chuckles softly, hearing the quick intake of her breath in response to his touch.

A breathless whisper…”Father”…arching her back, splaying her thighs wider, enjoying the nibbles and flicks of his tongue over the vein that pulses with life. He is teasing her, she knows…but she doesn’t care, she wants him always…forever. She turns her head, offering more of her neck, soft whimpers leaving her lips. Already her thighs stained with the juice of her loins, cheeks flaming as her body shamelessly rocks against his…”Please Father…”

Lacie ~