The moonlight has the curious power of shedding mystery and romance over everything it touches, making the scene of the most brutal crime look innocent and peaceful. Now, it was capable of making the nest of lust and perversion look dreamy and ethereal, even though the air was still vibrating with sighs filled with lust.
The room was silent now, the hour of the wolf. The night breeze played with the sheer drapes, but there were no candles to dance since the light of the full moon was enough for the man and the woman. For now, even the restless books filled with arcane power were quiet; even the artifacts resting on the shelves, that usually seemed alive as entities, were sleeping now.
The man ran his hand up her body, savoring the touch. Her skin was silky, soft enough to make his hands seem even rougher. Warm as if she was bathed by the sun. Flawless and untainted. Delicate and fragile.
Her chest moved up and down below his hand, and for a moment he felt her heart, barely contained by her smooth skin. It ran wild, fast, even though her breath was starting to calm down. He found her slim neck. She let out the sweetest of sighs when he closed his hand around it. Her heart was beating faster, her life running through her veins - and he could feel it, right there, in his hand, pulsating like liquid fire. It felt like he was holding her life in his hand, just the smallest squeeze was enough...
"You like that, don't you?" he said, in that silky voice. "Aren't you afraid?"
She stared at him. Her eyes still shinning, her cheeks still blushed, pleasure still running fresh in her veins. Their silhouettes were only partially revealed by the soft moonlight coming from the balcony, and as most things revealed by moonlight, it seemed more romantic than it actually was. As innocent as two lovers after their embrace.
They were as different as the moon and sun. She was a delicate elf, her long white hair spreading all over the round bed and reflecting the moonlight. Her curves were perfectly smooth and her skin pale and pinkish as if she has never seen the sunlight. The man, on the other hand, looked like a sailor. Tanned skin, defined muscles and messy curls of hair as black as a raven. Rough hands - she liked those rough hands. He looked like a human, but his blazing eyes were an indication of his true self, an indication that there was indeed something that made them look alike.
They were both creatures made of fire, with blazing eyes and fiery hearts.
He took a sniff of her; ran his nose along the warm flesh that shaped those voluptuous curves, inhaled her scent and thought the pleasure running in her blood was pouring out through her pores. It was the scent of lust, pure and maddening. Every inch of her was made to drive men mad with lust.
"Afraid?" she said, and a smile curved her lips. "Not of you..."
Oddly enough, he didn't feel insulted. Not now. He opened the belt that kept her hands in place and rubbed lightly the marks on her wrists, tainting her flawless skin.
"Besides...," she continued, touching lightly on his neck with the tip of her fingers. As she did it, a thin line of arcane runes shone softly, circling his neck like a leash. "I guess I can handle you."
His laugh was powerful and for a moment disturbed that seductive tranquility that was trying to occupy the room, filling every inch of it and overflowing, spilling out of the balcony.
"In more than one way, yes," he said, as he messed even more his black curls of hair with a distracted hand. His hair was wild and he made no attempt of taming it. "But how long?"
"If you think you can fuck your way out of this, you're wrong," she said softly, although avoiding the question. "I'd advise you stop trying to manipulate me with your cock and getting used to your new necklace."
"I guessed it wouldn't hurt to try," he said with a delighted smile curving his lips. "I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I like a challenge. And you... You like this."
He smiled with all his teeth, and it looked like the grin of a predator before his prey. He knew she liked it, the feeling of danger, of being by the edge of a cliff. The feeling of his rough and heavy touch. It was exciting, alluring.
"Curious, isn't it?" he said, rubbing her wrist again and examining it. "You're the one that bears the marks of dominance," he continued, laying a long kiss on the reddish mark on her wrist. His kiss was softer than she expected, though. Tender, even. "Yet it is me that's the tamed beast. Not that I'm complaining. It almost feels like..."
"...feels like your power is yours again?" she completed with a grin.
There was a moment of silence, where they both stared at one another, without blinking, his malicious grin mirrored perfectly on her own face.
"I have another theory about why you don't have a boyfriend," he said, hovering over her. "You're annoying."
"It's reasonable. But I like mine better," she started. "I don't want one. And you don't need to pretend you don't hate me, just..."
"I don't hate you," he interrupted her. "You outsmarted me. I admire you," he answered. "But back to what's important: Why?"
He let out a surprised grunt as she pulled him down and twisted her body beneath his, like a snake. She sat on his waist and looked down on him, at least twice her size; the strength contained in his powerful muscles restrained with her delicate touch. Pleasure chills ran through his body, binding him to her will like no chains ever could, holding him in place.
"I don't need a lover," she said, as she ran her soft and small hands up his chest. "I have a son, to continue my bloodline. An apprentice, to inherit my knowledge. A trade, for my most mundane needs. And, once in a while, I may have a man to warm my bed, as I please. Sounds enough to me."
"And what about love?" he asked. "You, mortals, are the ones that keep reciting its wonders. It's so curious you left that out of the list. I don't believe you're one of those heartless ladies incapable of loving."
"I'm not," she answered, as she felt every detail of his rough muscles beneath her hands. "I just... had enough of it."
"Care to explain?"
She kept silent for a moment, thinking of the right words for it. The air of the room was still vibrating with lust, and so it was hard to think properly. It was still fresh, their bodies barely given the time to cool down.
"I had quite a few lovers," she said, and then sighed as she saw his condemning stare. "Fine, I had quite a lot of lovers. And I mean lovers, boyfriends, not..."
"...men to warm your bed, only?" he suggested.
"Right," she continued. "And it doesn't matter if you have just a couple of lovers or a thousand. You will never get... desensitized, if you know what I mean. I loved as if it was the first time. I loved as if it was the last, as if there was no tomorrow. And it hurt as if I was an innocent maiden, as if I never saw deception before. And a small piece of me died every time my love died. And I mourned it as I should. Every. Single. Time." She sighed, seeming tired. "It's... just too much. I loved enough for a lifetime. I found lovers of my previous lives and lives to come. I guess that's enough."
"You can't avoid it, though. You know that, right?" he asked, but as she didn't answer he continued. "But there must be one, you know? The one that keeps haunting your dreams, feeding your perversions. The one that first comes to mind when you think of your lovers."
"My fiancé," she said, as the most unsuitable sweet smile crossed her face. "All poetry in the world is not enough, you know? We drank on each other's souls; we feasted on each other's flesh. He was... I pictured myself growing old by his side. I thought I was going to follow him to the grave."
"Unlucky for him. Lucky for me," he said with a grin and the slightest hint of sarcasm. "What happened?"
She sighed. She didn't want revisit that part of her story. It was dead and buried. It was painful, not just because of what happened to her lover, but to her people. On the other hand, she always thought that talking about it would eventually make it less painful - and she was right, at some level. The elf sighed.
"Fine. I'll tell you."