Harkon slammed his bedroom door behind him, the sound resonating through the castle with the finality of the sound. Seranna's left hand raises to cover her mouth and hide her laughing at her father's temper tantrum over the Bosmer vampire hunter turning down his offer. Sometimes she forgot how high her father held the vampire race as a whole and himself so much higher. It was strange to her that her father had decided to offer to the woman his own blood instead of offering to have one of the others change her, though she knew for a fact whatever his reasoning it was something he wouldn't share it with others. She just shrugged it off and wandered off to her room, the only place she would be able to hear the entire castle and yet no one would bother her.
An hour later Harkon slammed his fist into his desk, the various papers he had been writing his plans for the vampire race on as of late forgotten in his rage. The Bosmer elf had dared turn down his blood. His! After centuries refusing to forgo the memory of his wife and the love they had had once upon a time, he had finally saw a woman he felt strong enough and beautiful enough to be his queen in the world he was creating for his people. Sera, the Bosmer vampire hunter who had brought his daughter back to him, was the woman he knew would make a perfect queen at his side. Her strength was obvious, the heavy wood and steel cross bow on her back and the way the strange material of her Nightingale armor stretched with the lean muscles of her body as she moved behind his daughter made that quite evident. The way she held her head head high as she had removed her mask as she had entered the center of the great hall, her ruby red eyes showing more than a little disgust with the bones, dead bodies and blood that were around her. As he had spoke to his daughter he had watched her expression from the corner of his eye, more than a little disturbed at first with his attraction to the small woman. Her curves had begged for his attention, her hair shined in the flickering lights of different candles around the room. She had literally raised an eyebrow when he addressed her, her expression giving away her dislike of him already though they had not even spoke yet.
As the memory flooded through his mind again he felt his lips curling into an anger filled smile, the way she had lifted her head when he had changed forms as if challenging him had heated his blood in a very different manner. The pale flesh of her throat begged his touch, the defiance in her eyes and voice had made his hands twitch and body harden with the thought of breaking and taming her to his will. Instead of doing as he had hoped, accepting his blood and allowing him to experience the fire of her through the exchanged she had almost sneered as she declined the offer, her body already turning from him as he proclaimed her banished from the castle. The thought was still enraging him even as his body hardened to nearly painful degrees, her spirit and the way she moved and spoke still echoing over the rage.
The tall nord vampire rose from his chair, pacing his room in anger. He had not changed a soul in the time since his own change, even after that harpy of a wife had stole Seranna away and left him in this castle with the rabble. He had been loyal to the memory of their vows centuries ago, even as he plotted the death of the woman who had betrayed their people. Stealing the Scrolls, running off with his little girl, and then disappearing from the face Tameriel had made him very angry with his former wife and he had no illusions about the rest of the whores in the castle. Each only thirsted power, and to be even his mistress would give them much more power than the rest.
He sighed and strode to his seat by the fire, the powerful muscles under his royal vampire armor straining the material to nearly it's breaking point. Carefully he disrobed, his mind returning to the creamy pale flesh of the bosmer, the huskiness of her voice, the glint in her blood red eyes and the sable of her dark tresses. His body tightened again even as he sat, the soft material of his pants the only thing covering him, in his favorite chair. A sigh left his throat as he contemplated the worst scenario of dealing with the growing issue between his legs, calling forth one of the whores who waited for him to call them, then decided against it. His right hand lowered to his manhood, the length solid and jutting his pants upward as he moved the cloth away and grasped the member with his rough fingers. His eyes closed as he imagined the small hand of the bosmer being in place of his own, her body nude between his legs as she stroked the veined girth. As his imagination started the scenario that would assist him in spilling his seed into his hand, a small smile crossed his lips. She may have turned away his gift but his imagination could allow him at least to use her body.
The imagined vision behind his eyes stroked his length slowly, her darkly painted lips parted as she stared at the tip as a bead of clear fluid worked its way from his length. She lowered her head lap at the tip with her small pink tongue, the skilled little elf swirling the muscles around the mushroomed head. His hand lifted to grasp the back of her head, gently urging her further as her face darkened with lust. Her mouth opened slowly at first, taking only a little of a time into the waiting cavern of her mouth. The entire time she suckled his cock as if it were a sweet treat he had offered her, the sensation along with the motion of her hand beneath her slowly moving mouth nearly driving him insane. Before she even reached her mouth half way down the large member he thrust up, his hand holding her head in place as he shoved himself deeper. A low moan sounded around his member as her removed her hand, placing it on his thighs as she allowed him to begin to thrust into her mouth as if it were her lower lips he had entered.
Within a few short thrusts he decided this would be not enough and pulled from her mouth, the action causing a small pout to form her lips before he pulled her onto his lap, forcing her to straddle his hips. Looking into the dark red of her eyes he guided her already dripping nether lips over his throbbing meat and...
A sound came from his door and he whipped his head around, his fangs flashing as he looked to who had chose to disturbed him. Behind him his daughter slapped her hand over her eyes with a small squeal before spinning and slamming the door, murmuring "I'm sorry" over and over. Harkon groaned and stood, stuffing his length into his pants and praying it would lessen before he reached the door, now embarrassed that his daughter had seen him in such a way. He cursed the dark hair Bosmer under his breath, blaming her for his sudden obsession and need to rid himself of such an issue.