A/N: Wow okay a vampire fic. Well there we are then! First of all I want to just hop up on my soap box and say that I HATE (yes that's capitals) Twilight. And True Blood. And Vampire Academy and any other soap opera type thing. Why we would want to watch a mixture of Home and Away and Days of Our Lives with sharp teeth I have no idea. I like REAL vampires. Like Underworld and Blade vampires. And Nicola Tesla. He's one awesome vampire (all you Sanctuary fans understand!) Anyway. Love it? Hate it? Let me know. I don't mind if you don't like it, but tell me what you don't like about it so I can change it, or at least change it for next time!
By the way, Miranda's a little OOC here, hope that's alright!
Peace out people!
Miranda Priestly.
There was a name that instilled fear into the hearts and minds of humans everywhere. I laughed ironically. There was nothing she could do to me that would hurt me.
I was wrong. The acerbic words that flew from her mouth caused me more pain that I had felt in my four hundred years. I guess I had retained some of my humanity. Even though I had been insisting on this, to actually know that I had for sure, that was ironic.
From that moment, I decided that I was going to show her exactly who she'd messed with. I did everything perfectly. Everything except perhaps walking in on her and her husband fighting, but hey, you only live, well forever in my case, but no, even when I managed to save my ass by getting her children the latest Harry Potter book I smiled smugly but refused to be baited by her. I would just have to owe Christian Thompson back some day. He was an interesting character. Something about him smelled off though, but I really couldn't put my finger on it.
The minutia of her daily life consumed mine, so much so that I was alone once more. Not that I minded. After two hundred and two hundred and fifty years respectively, I knew that Doug and Lily would be back eventually. But it was more than that. SHE seemed to consume me. She was in my thoughts every waking moment, and sometimes when I wasn't awake. Not bad dreams, just dreams of her, just there, standing, watching me.
Then came Paris. And I knew I had a problem. It wasn't the hours, they didn't bother me; I took care of that in the only way I knew how. The older I seemed to get the less seep I needed, especially if I fed every day. Paris was great for that sort of thing. The Paris household had been around almost as long as the London one. But the Parisians were far less stuffy when it came to choice. And boy, what a choice.
But that wasn't the problem either. The major problem I refused to think about, so putting that firmly into the back of my mind I concentrated on the problem at hand. That problem I could deal with. I was hungry. I was so hungry it was causing me to get the headaches I knew that I hadn't had for years. And I still had to drop off the seating plan to Miranda before I could go. Opening the door, I was relieved to see that it was dark inside. Sighing I rolled my neck, trying to ease the tension and placed the bags on the floor, only stepping in further to place the seating plan on the table.
And there she was. Except this wasn't Miranda Priestly. This was simply Miranda. The woman. My headache increased as I saw she had been crying. The darkness in me pulsed with the thought that she had somehow been hurt. She smelled like sadness, like betrayal, like emptiness, with just a hint of anger. My headache pulsed again.
"Mi-Miranda." I said gently, watching her closely.
The pain in my head is making my eyes water as she tells me uncharacteristically how much she is hurting after Stephen's little stunt. Coward. I find myself caring about the woman. Or at least, admitting to caring. If I was honest with myself I could have said I've cared for a while now, but who in this century is really honest with themselves.
"Is there anything I can do Miranda?" I ask, my voice strangely soft and gentle. Like my own body was going against my mind. I wasn't supposed to care about this woman. That leads to places that nobody wants to go. I watched with a grim fascination as her mask slammed back onto her face.
"Your job." she said in no uncertain terms. A part of me felt bereft at the brush off and I couldn't believe that she could just switch personalities like that. And then I remembered that I do it almost every day. I nodded in silence and let myself out of the room, sighing as I waited for the elevator. That woman was more trouble than she was worth.
I walked into La Maison a little later, desperate for the feed that I knew I needed. They knew who I was. I was in no way the oldest, but I certainly had been around for a long time. The doorman bowed and showed me to the suite I would occupy and I stared at the man sitting in the half light. I laughed.
There he was, sitting smugly on the chaise lounge. His blonde curls catching the dim light and I realised for the first time in four hundred years that my work had just encroached on my personal life. No, not that personal life, the OTHER personal life. He looked shocked when he saw me, his face turned pale and I knew then that the part of me that I hated, the part of me that I fought with for control every single day would enjoy this. He went to leave and I pushed him back down. My nails grew long and sharp and I ripped his four hundred dollar shirt off his body, the points of my, well claws, tearing his flesh a little, and spilling blood down his chest.
My arousal was tangible. I could smell it, its scent mixing with the smell of his blood, running over his torso. I swiped my tongue over the cuts, moaning my desire as the warm metallic liquid made me hum in excitement.
"A-A-Andy." He screeched as I scored another path, over his shoulder and down his back. I used my tongue to sooth the cuts, knowing that by morning there would be no trace of it left on his skin. He was quaking beneath my thighs, which were now straddling his backside as I pinned him face down on the lounge. I had no qualms what so ever. He may be Christian Thompson, but I would make sure that tomorrow, he would not remember this night. Tomorrow he would go on thinking that I had refused him dinner. Tomorrow Miranda would go on thinking I hadn't.
I paused for a moment, wondering why Miranda had popped into my head at this exact moment. My desire was pulsing and I knew that once I started feeding I would climax, so why was I thinking of Miranda Priestly and why on earth was I thinking of her wearing her lousy bathrobe sitting mourning her marriage on the couch. I was well aware that the woman was beautiful; the whole world knew she was, but why now. Why at this critical moment, when all my worries would cease to be for five minutes, when his life force would run down my throat, giving me the energy to survive another day in the employment on the Devil in Prada.
Christian lifted his head and snapped me out of my thoughts. I grabbed a handful of his hair and sunk my teeth suddenly into his jugular. Moaning as his blood ran down my throat, I rocked my hips on his thighs, grinding myself into him. He keened as I sucked the blood from his veins and in a moment of weakness I usually forbade myself, I allowed his thoughts to enter my mind. What I saw there shocked me so badly I pulled away sharply, making him cry out in pain as my teeth pulled on the incisions. My arousal forgotten, I spat on his neck stopping the blood flow, no longer willing to taste him as I jumped off him and flung him against the wall.
"Talk." I commanded, knowing that the man, although well versed in the art of being a feeder, was a coward.
"We're replacing her. Jacqueline Follet is taking over and Irv will replace her today at the breakfast. I'm to become the new features editor." He said with a half grin, almost as if he expected me to be happy for him.
"No." I said in a voice not dissimilar from Miranda's, one that he didn't know I possessed. "No you will not."
My nails dug into the skin around his heart and he screamed as I removed every trace of memory from his mind about this night. The remaining human part of me knew that this was my dark part, bleeding into my human part. But as I removed any evidence of my being there, I didn't care. And, for some reason, in that moment as I marred his skin one more time, I knew that the impossible had happened.
I had fallen in love with Miranda Priestly.
I nodded to the doorman at La Maison. I snorted as I left the building. For all their art and their wealth and their supposed vision, the Parisian household still called their house, The House. Shaking my head as I crossed the street I pulled the wrap I had been wearing last night around my shoulders. I had stayed longer than I had intended to and I had to catch Miranda before the breakfast. It was now past dawn and I could not use the gifts that had been bestowed upon me in the sunlight. And so I ran.
Entering the lobby Nigel ran into me and I could smell the happiness in his blood.
"Six! Guess what?" he said excitedly and I knew that I would have to hear it.
"Nige, I'm really late, what is it?" He smiled looking at his watch a smirk crossing his features.
"She's sending me to James Holt. I'll be running the place." He said smugly and the dark part of me pulsed, reminding me that I had to be somewhere. I didn't have time to ponder what it meant that the darker part of me was reminding me this. I smiled widely and hugged him, ignoring the pulsing of his blood in the neck so close to mine. Thank god Christian had been somewhat satisfying even if only in a nutritious way. I congratulated him once more and ran to Miranda's suite, banging on the door until she answered, all traces of yesterday gone, a new scent, the scent of triumph, but not happiness was hovering on the skin.
"I need to speak to you." Her lips pursed, but at this point, I really didn't care.
"Are you out of your mind." She snapped. I could feel the tension in her body, feel her pulse quicken as her anger built. My arousal spiked and I cursed Christian Thompson into the depths of hell. "I am in a meeting." I could see Irv Ravitz, the company board member sitting at the little table and for a moment, I was confused. Was he telling her now?
"But I need to," she slammed the door in my face.
The darkness in my was pulsing in expectation and I really had to try hard not to allow myself to simply storm in there and rip the throat out of the little man. I knew the elders would not be happy if I did that. We tend to stay out of each other's way as much as possible, but if something happened then we would be spared no punishment. Right now, the darkness didn't care.
We made it to breakfast and I could not help but feel bereft at what was coming. Nigel showed me his welcome speech and I smiled politely and awaited his grand introduction. I sat in shock as Miranda announced that Jacqueline Follet was taking the job at James Holt, not Nigel and I could see Nigel's disappointment. I was so confused right now, it wasn't funny. How could one woman undo four hundred years of human understanding in me in less than a year? The darkness seemed to wither in me as I followed her out of the room, joining her in the car.
"You thought I didn't know." She started to say, but I couldn't concentrate. I could smell her victory, her happiness. There was only the slightest bit of bereavement and I couldn't work out whether that was for Nigel, or that fact that she had basically just doomed James Holt to a life of working for Jacqueline Follet, even for a little while.
"I couldn't do that, what you did to Nigel." I swore to myself. I couldn't. That was so heartless; I found it ironic that someone without a heartbeat was lecturing someone about being heartless.
"But you did." She said in her floaty voice that made my head spin. "You did it to Emily. You chose to get ahead." Every part of me stilled. She was right. I had opted to go to Paris to get ahead, not that I needed it, but I did need the challenge. I had become the one thing I vowed never to become all those years ago, and all at the hands of a human no less.
"What, what if I don't want to be like you?" I asked, more musing to myself than expecting an answer. How, in this moment, was this woman so much wiser than me?
"Don't be silly Andréa, everyone wants to be us." She donned her Prada sunglasses and stepped into the paparazzi. I paused for a moment, smelling her lingering scent and I made a decision I should have made long ago, when I first realised that my feelings for this woman were not strictly business.
I stood next to the car, watching her rise regally up the steps, even though she was surrounded by cameras.
I walked away.
By the time I got to the fountain she had realised I was no longer behind her and I looked at my phone, noting that it was her that was ringing. I threw it in the fountain and walked in the direction of La Maison. I had a burning desire to do something less than human. The Parisians loved that sort of thing.
He was young, younger than I was when I was turned and as I drank from his veins, ripping his flesh, all I could think of was Miranda. How she had poured out her heart to me, how she had looked at me and how I wished she had wanted me. They dragged me away eventually. Evidently, he was a good feeder and as such wanted him alive. I raged for a while, destroyed he room, cursing their lives knowing that none of this was their fault. It was mine. I had fallen for a human and it was going to drive me insane.
I went back to America the same day, no longer forced to look and act like a human I simply stepped through space and time. I didn't need to work and so I didn't. I didn't do anything for six months, except sleep and feed. I occasionally went hunting when the fancy took me, even though I couldn't stand the thought before I had met Miranda. The prey we used were usually criminals and you would never taste them, so I didn't see the harm. We were not as bad as the books made out. But we did occasionally need to take the edge off.
I hadn't meant to be at the same party she was at and I certainly hadn't meant to skip a feed for two days first; not having much to do now I fed less frequently. I shook the thoughts from my head as I stood mingling. I must have lost my mind. So much fresh stuff and I had to skip two meals. Idiot. I hadn't even realised what the benefit was for, but when she descended those stairs in a gown that only just covered the swell of her breasts, leaving her delicate neck open to me I knew that tonight I would have to physically lock myself away. I turned to leave and was stopped by a hand on my arm. I spun around, ready to spew forth a verbal tirade worthy of the woman herself, only to find that she was there, standing in front of me.
"How dare you show your face to me." She said in her icy tones. All I could feel was arousal as her voice washed over me and her pulse resounded in my ears. "How did you gain entry to this establishment, and," she paused and was looking at me strangely and I realised that my eyes would have blackened and my teeth were not behaving. She looked at my dress and noticed that it was in fact not off the rack at Maisies, but would have cost as much, if not more than hers. Her eyes widened in confusion and I looked around, taking careful not of everyone in the room. I grabbed her wrist and dragged her into an empty room, locking the door behind us.
I could smell her fear before I even looked around at her and if my heart had been beating it would have sunk right then.
She was afraid of me.
"Miranda." I whispered into the darkness. She couldn't see me, but I could see her. Her ethereal beauty shining like a beacon in the darkness.
"What are you?" she whispered, her voice quaking a little as she tried to control the fear coursing through her veins. I sighed and switched on the lights, moving to stand at the very outer edge of the room. Far away from her and her heavily beating heart.
"I will not hurt you." I hope.
"What are you?" she asked again studying my face as I cringed in the light.
"I, I think you know what I am." I tested. She knew a lot of people; wealthy people and it would only be by sheer chance that she would never have met any of my brethren. We were not necessarily secret, but we certainly did not advertise our presence. Besides, if anything ever got out of hand we could just 'adjust' people's memories. We were good at that sort of thing.
"There were rumours." She said, leaning against a stack of tables, unable to take her eyes off me. "But I never once, I never allowed myself." I shrugged.
"Well, now you know." I said dryly. I felt strangely cathartic to tell her. It was not something we tended to tell people about, but it felt right to talk to Miranda about it. The darkness in me stretched out like a cat, filling every inch of my body, before I felt it retreat, almost like a snake, curling in my belly.
"Why?" she asked. I shrugged.
"Life is boring sometimes. You miss normality." She nodded but didn't really understand. I smiled, letting her know that it was alright.
"How old are you?" she asked, her curiosity making me smile wider.
"I am four hundred and thirty six years old." I replied watching her eyes widen and her throat swallow involuntary.
"Jesus Christ." She whispered. I laughed. And it felt good to laugh. I hadn't laughed since before I worked for the woman.
"He was a bit before even my time." I said with a smile. Making her laugh this time, a real laugh. A Miranda laugh. My arousal pulsed and I shook my head trying to clear the urges I was getting to simply pin her against the door and taste her. My hunger and my arousal pulsated through me.
"Are, are you okay?" she asked, taking a few steps forward as I leant heavily against the furniture piled against the walls behind me. I held up my hand, flashing her a look of fire. She stopped, but didn't step back.
"Miranda you need to leave." I said, my voice straining as I clenched the table behind me, leaving finger marks in the wood beneath. My teeth poked out of my mouth and her mouth fell open in surprise as my eyes darkened. "Get out." I choked and she looked torn. I was writhing and shivering as I struggled to keep myself from pouncing on her.
Never before had I felt like this about anything, anyone. But I had heard the stories, the rumours. The fables about fated brides. I had always laughed it off as a council ploy to get us to breed again. More than that though I knew what sometimes happened, I'd even met one once, who took the life of the one he loved because he could not control himself. That is why most never loved.
"Please just go." I said, biting my own lip two trails of blood were rolling down my chin, making me look like some hideous costume wearer in the cheap fair grounds. It seemed to bring her to her senses and she nodded, but not before leaving me a key card. In all the haze, I frowned at her at what she was offering.
"I would like to talk about this if you would be agreeable." She didn't wait for an answer and fled from the room, allowing me time to pull myself back together. Growling in frustration, I ripped through the shreds of time and landed outside the New York Household, entering without so much as a wave or smile, barging into my usual room and feasting on whatever poor creature was waiting for me. Nobody, save the caretakers lived in The Houses and they were simply there to afford us the privacy we sometimes needed when the urges took us over. I was not gentle with this one and I did not bother to close their wounds. As I left The House, I licked my lips, and stepped through time again, now I was sated, back to the hotel, when I knew Miranda would be waiting for me.
I knocked once and opened the door, finding her still in that gown, siting waiting for me.
"I was not sure if you would come." She said softly, a little afraid still, but mostly curious. I could smell something that I had not smelt before, something that undid all the things I had just done. Something that made my body pulse.
"You want me." I said, a little bit of disbelief creeping into my voice. I stood, studying her features. She bit her lip and looked at the floor. I had never seen her like this. She was Miranda Priestly, always in control, always the leader, always on top. Right now though, she looked lost. Finally, she looked up and I was floored by what I saw in her eyes. Desire, but something more, something deeper.
"Jesus Christ." I whispered, making her smile. She knew I knew and there was nothing to be said. Not right now.
She walked slowly towards me, a glass of champagne still in her hands. She faltered as she reached for the other glass.
"Ur, Do you?" she said gesturing towards the table where the champagne bottle was chilling. I smiled and nodded, allowing her to run the show for now. She smiled as she passed me a glass, gasping as she brushed my hands. "You're so cold." She said frowning. I smiled.
"That happens when you don't have a heartbeat." I said gently she nodded absently before putting her glass down.
"I don't, I mean, I want to, but I'm not." She took a deep breath, I could almost sense how mortified she was at stuttering and I took pity on her, moving carefully and slowly over to her.
"Hey." I whispered as I touched her hand gently, taking it carefully in my palm. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can go slowly if you would like. Get to know each other?" she nodded, but wouldn't let go of my hand. I squeezed it gently.
"Why can't I get you out of my head." She whispered, her beautiful blue eyes looking up at me. I ran a finger down the length of her face, loving the way her eyes closed and she leant into the touch.
"We're meant to be, you and I."I whispered, knowing instinctually that this was the right answer. "As corny and lame as it sounds you are my bride and one day you and I shall become one. And not just in the way you are thinking, in the way that we will always be together as one. I will be the one to turn you and you and I shall live forever." I expected her to look shocked or even surprised but she simply smiled the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. I returned her smile and ran my hands from her hands to her shoulders, loving the way she shivered under my touch. "There are things to be discussed my love, things that will need to be addressed before then. You have your children to think about. You can decide whether they are turned at a later date, or whether you can leave them behind. You will have to be prepared to leave everything here behind and start again." She placed a finger over my lips and my darkness unfurled itself in my belly.
She ran a finger over my lips and to the corner of my mouth. She pulled her hand away and looked at it critically. I'd missed a bit earlier and I held my breath, hoping that it didn't freak her out too much. She held out her hand, faltering slightly as my eyes darkened. I let her finger enter my mouth and sucked gently on it removing the trace of the blood I missed, careful to avoid my teeth, which were misbehaving again.
"But I will be with you?" she asked, her finger tracing my lips again.
"You will my love." I said, making her smile again.
"I feel I should explain myself." Miranda said as she removed my hands and walked to the other side of the room, looking out over the city. "I have been dreaming of you." She said quietly, so quietly that if I hadn't been what I was I wouldn't have heard it.
I moved to stand behind her and I wrapped my arms around her, inhaling her scent as she leant against my chest.
"Whenever I dreamt of you I'd wake up feeling lost, but happy. Like something truly wonderful was coming." She looked up at me, her big beautiful eyes full of wonder as she took in my features. All of time stopped and nothing mattered to me anymore. Part of me wanted her right then. To turn her, to know that from that minute on she would know my thoughts and I would know hers. That we could feed together, that we could share all of eternity together. I felt her heart rate increase, as if she could already hear my thoughts.
"Take me to bed." She whispered suddenly, jolting me out of my dreaming's. I raised an eyebrow and she smiled shyly, but nodded. I picked her up, making her squeal in a most un-Miranda like fashion. I smiled as we stepped through the fabric of time once again and we were at my house, on my island. Under the stars.
"There is no way we are doing this anywhere but here." I whispered to her as she looked around, shocked at what had just happened.
"How did you?" she asked, thoroughly bewildered.
"We can travel anywhere we want to by stepping through time and space." I explained gently as I carried her effortlessly up the steps.
"No wonder my coffee was hot every morning." She said cheekily. I rolled my eyes making her laugh and cling to my neck even tighter.
"That was down to me running." I said with a kiss to her forehead. "We cannot do anything special in the daylight. It is enough that we can walk in it." I explained as we reached the top of the steps.
I set her down outside of my island mansion and let her look around. Even to one with as much money as she had it was an opulent house. She looked at me and I looked back. I bowed slightly as the door opened automatically, allowing us entry. I took her hand I lead her to my bedroom. I knew it would not be what she expected, but I still couldn't help but laugh at the little look of relief on her face.
"You thought I slept in a coffin didn't you." I teased, as she looked around. I was not dissimilar to any other bedroom. Bed, closet, fixtures. All very expensive and quite beautiful, but 'normal' just the same. She looked at me shyly. I love this side of her.
"You are so beautiful when you aren't hiding behind Miranda Priestly." I said, stroking her cheek. She smiled and nodded, understanding what I meant. I drew her chin closer towards me.
She worried her lip a little, before closing her eyes and leaning in, her lips brushing mine. The darkness in my belly exploded and I found myself deepening the kiss, our tongues rubbing sensuously together. Unlike all the other times though, there was no violent thoughts, no thoughts of death. I realised that this was about love. I worshipped her body with my hands, loving the way that her velvet gown clung to her body. I broke away from the kiss, making her moan in despair, only to have her gripping my head as I kissed my way down the front of her neck. I could hear her heart beating in my ears and the urge reared up a little.
"Miranda." I whispered as I ran my tongue along her collarbone, sucking gently where I knew that one day I would bite her.
"Andréa." She whispered back, her hands running sensuously up and down my spine, through my hair, making my usually frigid skin tingle.
I unzipped her dress and let it pool at her feet, my eyes feasting on the expanse of flesh underneath. I moaned as I caught sight of the garter belt.
"You are so beautiful." I moaned into her ear as I held her close.
"Andréa."
I lifted her legs around my hips and she clung to me as I walked us to the bed, kissing her deeply, letting her run her tongue through my mouth, shivering when she paid special attention to my teeth. We landed on the bed and my teeth cut her tongue, piercing her lip slightly. Feeling the blood on our tongues, I moaned as I sucked the wound, relishing every drop of hers.
"Andréa." She whispered as I continued to worship her mouth, letting her taste her own blood on my tongue. "Please, I, I need you." She panted as I gently ran my teeth down her chest scoring the skin a little, coming to rest over her perfect breast.
I licked around her already pebbled nipples, teasing her never once placing it in my mouth. I let my nails become longer, sharper and I scored her skin lightly, enough to scratch from her collarbone to the underside of her breasts, flicking her nipple with a sharp nail, making her gasp.
"Ahhh." She moaned. I took on in my mouth, sucking with wild abandon as she writhed under me. "oh." She said as I worried her nipple with the tip of my very sharp nail, letting her feel just a tiny ounce of pain as I did. "please." She whispered, taking my hand and moving it over her stomach. I sat up and looked at her, her face was flushed and her eyes were bright and clear. I had never seen anything so beautiful.
"You're mine." I whispered, not intending to sound so possessive, but wanting her to be aware that there would be no more dates, no more missed dinners, when I called she would come. She nodded with a smile.
"For all eternity." She whispered, her hand stroking my cheek.
I let my nails retract and plunged three fingers into her heat. She screamed my name as she arched off the bed. I moved my hand slowly, mercilessly. She begged and begged, but I wouldn't be swayed. Four hundred years teaches you a lot. She would never want for anything again.
I kissed her gently as I slowly stroked her most sacred place. Occasionally running my thumb over her clit making her writhe just a little more.
"Please, oh please Andréa." She was crying, but I could tell they were tears of joy. I moved my body over her and looked into her eyes. She smiled, even as she gasped and arched again.
"I love you." I said honestly and I felt her muscles clamp down on my fingers and she screamed my name. As she fell, so did I and we moaned and pulsed together, both of us gripping each other tightly, as if the other would disappear at any moment.
My senses told me it was almost dawn and I struggled to wake up, aware that something was weighing me down. I smiled as I saw Miranda lying on top of me, her arms wrapped around me torso, her legs intertwined with mine. I stroked the signature lock from her eye and watched her sleep for a moment. Feeling me watching her, she smiled and kissed the skin under her lips.
"I love you." She whispered, opening her eyes.
We lay there, entwined with each other, just watching each other be. I clutched her to me and moved through time again, letting us land on the hotel bed where we had started out evening. She laughed as she looked around.
"Are you sure this is what you want Miranda?" I asked with sincerity. She nodded and moved up my body to kiss me, her hands trailing down my skin coming to rest between my thighs.
"For all eternity." She whispered before she was buried deep inside of me making me wail.
All that matters is that I love her and she loves me. I'll give her time; time to leave Runway, time to make a decision about her children before we become one officially, but for now I am content with what we have. I come screeching out of my thoughts as she bites me hard on my shoulder. I cum so hard I rip the sheets beneath my fists. She smiles at me as I catch my breath.
"I would not leave Runway for anything." She said gently as my breathing returned to normal, running her hands from my shoulders to my hips, her fingertips running lightly over my cold skin. "But I would leave it for you." She whispered as she leant in for a kiss. "I love you my Andréa." She said pulling away slightly and as I went to answer her she silenced me with a finger to my lips, taking my hand and making it stroke her gently from neck over her breasts, her flat stomach to her beautiful thigh.
"That's all." She moaned as I entered her. I smiled into our kiss.
It most certainly will not be.