Author's Note: This one is for naturally morbid, who continues to be a joy in my life who makes it better…so everyone reading, be sure to check out her stories right after this! Oh, and one more thing. This is probably going to be my last TB story; I just feel like I've written all I could for it. Should you have any positively mind-blowing ideas, however, feel free to let me know so we can discuss plots and pairings and whatever. Thanks, guys, and happy readings!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Fate Unforgiving
"And that is why…" Caterina Sforza continued addressing her audience which spotted the honey-hued hall she was in with shapeless black. Her voice remained solid and unwavering, but inside, she was dying," I have decided… to join the Rosen Cruetz Orden."
The beautiful blonde did not feel relieved form her declaration. In fact, the previously deemed 'Woman of Steel' was shaking; embarrassed to be standing in the very center of the Orden's decadent grand hall where all were gathered in her wake; watching her with cold, calculating eyes- eyes that stung her with each passing second.
Caterina wanted to look over her right shoulder where she knew Tres Iqus would be- she was desperate to see a kind, familiar face, but she did not dare show such a weak action amidst all these former enemies.
Sforza's only grasp to her dignity could be seen in her gunmetal eyes; piercing proudly ahead to the one person to whom she had been specifically saying her speech. Ever since the death of Alessandro, her half brother and three hundred, ninety-ninth Pope, Caterina had been a different person. Distant, uncaring; her warrior-like fire dimmed down substantially.
Caterina was quite certain that a part of her had died right along with her so very young and innocent brother that dreadful day-something should could never get back.
However, she was not ready to lay it all to rest quite yet. There were still things of dire importance to be done…namely, the demise of Francesco.
After Alessandro's death, Francesco had forced Caterina out of her seat of power at the Vatican and imprisoned some her closest AX agents on counts of unholy treason and conspiracy-something he had wanted to unfairly nail them all with for a long time.
Sforza grit her teeth upon recalling Medici; a living entity of evil, in her eyes…finally getting his way. Caterina would fight back. In order to have a prayer of accomplishing this feat, as Francesco now had more followers and power than ever, she needed the RCO's strength.
"Very well said, my lady," cooed a slow, meticulous voice from out in front of her. There was no malice in the spoken sentence, but still a hint of…victory.
Caterina gulped as she watched the silhouetted figure slowly approach her; details becoming clearer to her vision.
Tres, on the other hand, was keenly watching every move the walking man made. He had fought him in the past for Caterina's sake; this man was labeled as a dangerous enemy to him, and yet he could do nothing.
Tres' handsome face remained emotionless, but his fingers twitched with the pulling need to unholster one his Jericho M13s and defend his lady.
But all that had changed…Isaak Fernand von Kampfer would not dare harm Caterina now that she had formally surrendered to his cause.
"Caterina Sforza," Isaak said warmly, smiling at the broken woman before him. He had said her name like it was the password into Heaven itself, as he gently took her delicate hand in his larger, gloved hand and brought it to his thin lips for a respectful kiss.
Caterina, completely void of solid emotions at the moment as she darkly mused that that kiss just sealed her fate, did not even flinch from her uneasiness. Her screaming mind and turning stomach had run their awful course…she was empty now, so she was content to just let it happen.
Isaak smirked upon releasing her listless hand; knowing full well of the once regal, pristine Cardinal's internal demise and utter destruction.
"Losing a loved one will do that," Isaak commented very nonchalantly at her sad, perfect face; clearly enjoying her torment and his evident upper hand,"…make even the noblest of people do unspeakable things…"
With that, Isaak brought a hand up to her face and carefully held her cheek in his palm; his dark eyes raking over ever inch of her Greek goddess-like beauty.
Tres took a step forward- the sound of his thick-soled boots clunking against sand-colored marble echoing.
Isaak looked over at the protective guard dog with his eyebrows raised before smiling and dropping his hand from Caterina's face.
"You're absolutely right, Tres." Isaak said boisterously to the silent android," Where are my manners? You two must be starving. Please, if you would follow me, we have prepared dinner for you both."
This time, Caterina did cast an appreciative look over to Tres-sweet Tres; forever loyal to her no matter what, no matter how many mistakes she made.
Heaving a silent sigh, Caterina accepted Isaak's offered arm and the pair began striding their way through the Cathedral-style, golden and cream decorated hall to head to a private dining room. Tres watched them walk ahead until he was sure that there was no ill intent from the Magician. If he were human, Tres would have sighed as well before walking after their retreating forms.
X
Inside the secluded, cherry oak, crimson and pearl furnished dining room that comfortably sat around ten guests, Tres stood by Caterina's side as she sat at the large, rectangle table opposite Isaak. Isaak was lazily smoking a thin cigarillo- just watching Caterina eat her overly lavish meal with almost royal etiquette; a smirk twisting his lips at how vulnerable, how human Sforza was reduced to.
"Oh, I should tell you, Ms. Sforza, that I have also invited another to accompany us to this dinner. I trust you don't mind, my lady?" Isaak purred- taking another drag from his cigarillo as he watched her visibly stiffen but quickly try to hide it by dabbing her napkin to her rose-petal lips.
"Not at all," she lied sweetly. Caterina was so tired; so very tired of putting up a show. All she wanted to do at the moment was lock herself up in a tiny, dark room where she could scream her lungs raw and cry her eyes out.
Her immense frustration, though, only presented itself in the form of her small smile.
Suddenly, the large, wooden door behind Tres opened- all immediately turning once they heard the noise.
"Ahh, Dietrich, welcome. We were just discussing you, as it were," Isaak regarded his prodigy pleasantly.
"Uh-oh," the Marionettespeiler joked as he walked further into the room and up to their table, "one can only imagine."
Caterina wanted to throw up her perfectly seared salmon upon seeing the Lohengrin boy accompany them and casually take a seat in between Isaak and herself.
Dietrich frightened her. It was because he was so young, and still so cruel and cunning. Pure evil was behind those seemingly innocent eyes.
At least with Isaak, Caterina could play his game. There was a certain degree of respect, be it truthfully meant or otherwise, that was always present between Isaak and Caterina. But with this boy, this demonic, twisted child…Caterina knew nothing. There were no mutual middle grounds or understandings.
Tearing Sforza from her thoughts, Dietrich said, "It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Ms. Sforza." His tone was sweet and his face was even sweeter. Too sweet. Caterina had to resist the urge to throw up again.
"Likewise," she lied again. She had a feeling she would be doing that often-lying.
Dietrich's angelic smile widened at Caterina's reply before shifting his gaze to the silent, beautiful man remaining faithfully at her side.
"And you as well, Tres Iqus; quite a…pleasure." Whereas Dietrich's gaze towards Caterina had been soft, it was narrowed; sharper, deadlier as he shamelessly looked the Gunslinger up and down.
Tres said nothing in reply, nor did he move a muscle- a gesture that Caterina smirked to herself at.
"A fighter to the very end," she thought of her ever resilient Tres Iqus; drawing strength from his strength.
"Begging your pardon, gentlemen," Caterina politely broke the silence, placing her napkin on the table, "I think I'm going to retire for the evening."
Immediately after hearing his Master's words, Tres swiftly moved behind Caterina and gently helped her out of her chair; letting her take his extended hand while his other eased back her chair for her.
"Of course, my lady," Isaak replied obligingly; smashing out the last of his cigarillo. "Please allow me to escort you to your room."
Isaak specifically only offered to show Caterina to her quarters; having been the only one at the table who had noticed Dietrich's consistent staring at Tres with an occasional lick of his tainted lips.
Isaak knew Dietrich wanted to play, so he decided to only set up the stage to let his Puppeteer have his fun.
Caterina gave Tres' hand a slight squeeze, her grey eyes glimmering as she said quietly, "It's okay, Tres."
Tres held her soft gaze with his own chestnut-colored one, a little resistant of letting go of her; as parting lovers would act when they had to separate.
All the while, Dietrich's hungry eyes had been transfixed on how almost lovingly the equally deadly Killing Doll handled Caterina; intricately taking care of her every need…almost desperately. Lohengrin's dark chocolate eyes had been glued to Tres' hand as he helped his mistress from her seat; vicariously feeling Tres' careful touches upon his own fingers.
Now, the Puppeteer flinched slightly upon catching the way Sforza squeezed Tres' hand in hers; a reassuring and brave gesture, before letting go to head off with Kampfer.
Again, Iqus watched as Isaak took over his task of walking beside her, blinking at their backs while the Magician paused to open the door for her. As soon as Caterina passed through the doorway and was now out in front of Isaak, Isaak looked back to Tres.
Fingers twitched again for his large assault handguns.
Placing a hand over his heart, Isaak gave a slight bow to the Gunmetal Hound and said, "Don't worry. She will be well looked after, I assure you."
Again, no malice was in his smooth voice; only victory.
Tres could not reply, only stare as his Master- the one who had saved him long ago- was escorted down the long, dark corridor by an even darker form.
Seizing the opportunity brought on by the distraction, Dietrich had long been standing next to an unsuspecting Tres, smiling the whole time.
"You know, one could easily find their self becoming quite jealous about how someone such as yourself pines away so adamantly over another," Dietrich said to Tres with a turn of his head and a pout to his perfect lips.
Tres turned as well to address the quizzical Marionettespeiler.
"Statement does not analyze," he said simply, his voice deep and monotonous as always.
Dietrich smirked even wider at Tres' obvious puzzlement and reached up to remove some stray bangs from his kind-looking eyes.
"Please allow me to explain...along the way…"Dietrich said, motioning for them to start their own walk through the mansion.
"Positive," Tres replied before starting to walk to way indicated by Lohengrin.
Tres immediately noticed how that Isaak had led Caterina left out of the dining room, while he and Dietrich had turned right.
Something sickening tugged dully at Tres' chest; realizing that he would be far away from Caterina- the very person whose side he had not left in many, many years.
Dietrich noticed, much to his fancy, that the usually stoic and expressionless Killing Doll, Tres Iqus, was frowning. His light brown eyes were sad and looking down at the floor as they walked.
He looked so deliciously helpless to the Puppeteer.
"I apologize for my earlier statement, Tres- I meant no harm…," Dietrich trailed off upon discovering that they had reached Tres' quarters. Dietrich smiled. Perfect. "However, I cannot deny that I was, in fact, speaking of my own jealously."
Half-lidded chestnut colored eyes shot up to look into an even darker brown; two very different intentions behind the shades.
"I fail to…"Tres started but was cut off when Dietrich abruptly pushed him through the open doorway…Dietrich immediately following and closing the door behind him.
X
"My lady…Caterina…"Isaak purred from behind the frightened, rigid woman as he lightly ran his fingertips up both of her arms and back down again. Caterina, despite herself, shivered from her name being whispered so sensuously and the tingling touches administered to her virgin skin.
"Though I do think red is your color," Kampfer continued as he kept his hands on her shoulders, "you know you're not a Cardinal anymore."
The words had stung, as sweetly as they had been whispered into her hair.
Truth be told, Caterina had only kept her Cardinal robes for appearances despite not having the official title for some time now.
"I know," she murmured, defeated and downtrodden from remembering her sordid past and the horrible events therein.
Smirking, the Magician carefully moved his hands to the top layer of robes around her collarbone.
"Then perhaps…" One golden button undone. "we should…" Another one. "take this off."
His voice was velvet but his words were poison- a poison Caterina felt all too vividly was already taking control of her hollowed self. She was so tired of putting up a show…
Caterina gasped as soon as her heavy, crimson robe hit the floor; leaving her still in her long, red dress and white, embroidered corset. Her life had changed so much; had darkened so drastically. Isaak had been right when he had told her that losing a loved one would make even the noblest of people do the worst things. Caterina bit her lip and turned around in Isaak's arms, looking up at his thin, pale face with her own.
She wished his eyes were gentler; not so demanding in their intensity. But what his eyes could not do, his hands did- unstringing the back of her corset with adoring, affectionate touches.
Caterina closed her eyes to avoid his piercing gaze, and heightened her already skyrocketing senses so she could feel more of the slight touches to her skin he made as he worked. The next thing she knew, Caterina felt Isaak's long, black hair; soft as silk, touch her cheeks as he pressed his lips to hers.
Caterina angled her head so they could kiss more deeply- all the while, Isaak carefully pulled her corset from her lithe, frail form. Caterina felt tears threaten to fall as she whole-heartedly acknowledged that she was melting- just positively in love with being stripped so considerately by Isaak and feeling his warm, soft lips against her own.
Isaak wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her even closer to him, making her small form all but disappear in his- a complete picture of black overtaking red.
Caterina placed her hands on Isaak's broad, clothed chest as she opened her mouth for him- Isaak immediately obliging and slipping his tongue inside her warm cavern. His kisses were slow; deep, while the strokes of his tongue against hers were longing; passionate, like he wanted to savor her taste. His soft touches burned against her sensitive skin as he drew her thin straps down her shoulders to expose more of her porcelain skin to the mercy of his mouth.
Caterina had to restrain herself from going limp in his embrace as she felt him work.
"Isaak…" she breathed; stunned from how acutely tender her was being with her.
Isaak smiled against her lips as his hands traveled up to hold her slender back while he moderately dipped her backwards and moved his lips to her enticing throat.
Caterina responsively wrapped her arms around his neck for support as she sighed in pleasure from Isaak's careful ministrations.
Against the side of her neck, Isaak chuckled and said, "I never used to like my name…" Lick. "…but somehow, when it falls from your lips," Kiss. Lick. "…it's my favorite word to hear."
Caterina arched her body back a little further, letting her head fall lazily to one side- spilling over her many, thick spirals of golden hair. Isaak's timbered words against her flesh washed over her, making all of her senses about explode.
Not wanting her to fall, Isaak bent forward and scooped her small frame up in his arms bridal style- her hands immediately going up to clutch the folds of his thick, black RCO uniform.
With the utmost respect and care, Isaak carried her barely-clothed form across the dimly lit but extremely exquisite burgundy and black room. The long, wine-red drapes were tied to the sides with thick, black rope; allowing the blue of night and the silver glow of the moon struggle for dominance amidst the dark room. The overly large, black bed was illuminated by the mash of hues; making Caterina look absolutely divine once Isaak laid her down upon the cool, sleek sheets.
Isaak stepped back from the bed and began undressing himself- jacket buttons, shirt buttons, belt, pants- all the while giving Caterina a half-smirk as his prize looked amazingly gorgeous in her lustful haze; laying to be taken.
Kampfer stripped down to his boxers before climbing on top of Sforza- needing to feel her body against his own again; needing to once again immerse himself in her intoxicating scent and taste-her warmth.
Caterina had had her half-lidded eyes glued to the Magician as he revealed more and more firm, toned, and pale skin to her. Whether she would admit it or not, she could not deny that Isaak was truly a stunning man; perfectly portioned and honed with a beautiful, regal face and long, soft hair.
Caterina shuddered; nerves finally hitting her; once Isaak had crawled on top of her and was now face to face with her. Isaak dipped his head down; his impossibly elegant hair falling over his sculpt shoulders and pooling black on her porcelain white; and started to place firm kisses to her collarbone.
Caterina moaned softly; letting the bittersweet sensations swell up inside her as she raked her perfectly manicured fingernails through his inky mane-not wanting him to stop.
Isaak purred against her ivory skin form her tender yet hesitant touches and brought one of his hands to the bottom of her dress; seizing the hem in his fingers.
Releasing her dainty collarbone from his blissfully tortuous mouth, Isaak drew his head up so he could search her face as he carefully pulled her satin, red dress from her flawless body.
"You are so beautiful," Isaak whispered absentmindedly; the words just flying out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop himself.
Taking him by complete surprise, as Isaak had expected to see some sign of discomfort, Caterina only lifted up her body so he could pull her gown off easier as she gently pulled his head back down and captured his lips with hers.
A woman could only take so much heartache; so much rage and livid, unbridled emotions before she just…lets go.
X
Meanwhile…
Tres stumbled back into his darkened room from Dietrich's violent shove to his chest; lucky that he was able to not trip and fall on his own feet. He had only just straightened himself back out when he heard the soft click of the door being shut, followed immediately by a louder clank that told Tres that Dietrich had now locked the door as well.
"What is the meaning of this, Puppetmaster?" Tres demanded as icily as his unwavering baritone would allow.
As soon as the words left his mouth, Tres slowly brought a hand back to finally retrieve one of Jericho's; the inadequate lighting in the room only allowing Tres to see the faintest of smirks upon Dietrich's face; alarming every inch of the Killing Doll.
Gunslinger's hand was stopped short in its quest to draw the heavy gun from the thick, leather holster around his waist as he was suddenly unable to move a muscle.
Tres's striking eyes widened in silent panic as Lohengrin's sadistic smile spread farther across his demonically angelic face- his upturned hand finally coming into view to the stationary android- and the five, thin strings barely visible to the naked eye attached to his fingers.
"The meaning?" Dietrich retorted smugly, playfully, "I think you shall find that out for yourself soon enough, Tres."
Dietrich had made sure to practically purr Tres' name as he approached his captured prey whose arms twitched at his sides in countless useless attempts to break free of the Marionettespieler's hold on him.
Dietrich chuckled in amusement at Tres' obvious struggle and stifled panic; wasting no time, however, and urgently began undoing the many, golden clasps that adorned his typical black cassock.
Tres's eyes widened a fraction more as he helplessly watched Dietrich tug at his own bottom lip with his teeth, as if to restrain himself, while he carefully undressed the slightly taller Gunslinger- seemingly enjoying the task of being able to touch him with nothing and no one to stop him.
Tres closed his eyes as unfamiliar humiliation and uncertainty began overtaking the better part of him, as he heard the soft "zzz" sound of his shirt zipper being dragged down; revealing his smooth, scarred, battle-hardened chest for the Lohengrin boy's eyes to greedily devour.
Long, shameless fingers pushed the heavy fabric off the Killing Doll's broad, square shoulders- the garment making a quietly deafening 'flack' once it hit the soft carpeted floor…a noise that Tres seriously considered was the very sound that meant his undoing.
Tres's eyes shot open, however, as Dietrich immediately pressed his supple lips against his own; forcing his tongue past his lips and inside the warm cavern of Tres' mouth- exploring and tasting in an almost desperate fashion; eyes closed to further enjoy the shared sensations.
Dietrich purposefully swept his tongue against Tres' own tongue in long, slow strokes before pulling Tres' full, bottom lip in between his to suck and nip at the sensitive flesh; all the while purring low in this throat for Tres.
Tres was instantly flooded with barrage of mixed emotions that threatened the stability of his circuits- he was surprised how deliciously aggressive Dietrich was being with him; he was even more pleasantly overwhelmed with how utterly superb it all made him feel.
The Puppetmaster sighed into Tres' mouth as he ravaged the Gunslinger's mouth with teeth and tongue, mixing leisured movements of his tongue with quick ones that had the rigid Doll all but melt in his spot.
Tres had barely managed to suppress a wistful gasp that had threatened to escape him from Dietrich's torturous, talented ministrations to his tongue and lips. Every kiss, every touch was making the efficient killing android mad with such uncharacteristic feelings- feelings of longing, yearning, and want.
His fingertips burned with the desire to touch Dietrich; pull him closer so he could feel more of him. Tres skin was set ablaze from being so sinfully deliciously manipulated-not able to do what he wanted while having to bear whatever Dietrich desired from him. This scared Tres as much as it excited him…just like the feelings he had gotten from their blind, lustful kisses.
He was so captivated by Dietrich's deliciously fiery kisses that Tres had failed to notice it when Dietrich unhooked his gun holster from around his hips that clunked noisily on the floor- fingers immediately moving to unzip Tres' form-fitting black pants.
Dietrich did not pull down Tres' trousers down all the way- not yet- as he just inched them down a little lower on the Gunslinger's perfectly shaped hipbones; making the already deadly sexy battle android look even more enticing.
Dietrich reluctantly pulled his lips and hands away from Tres to observe his handiwork; smirking maliciously once he did so, as Tres looked delectably hazed; panting, and now was barely dressed- the liquid silver moonlight casting brilliant beams across his flawless body.
"My, my, my, Tres…." Dietrich began as he slipped out his own, complicated jacket rather quickly, "you look…quite fun."
Dietrich had specifically chose the word 'fun' because he still preferred to put up his passive, seemingly unimpressed show to Tres. Truth be told, Dietrich had long fancied the sexy Gunslinger and now being able to be with him thus far had been amazing and perfect, to say the least.
He was the ideal 'doll' to the man of puppets.
"Dietrich…" Tres choked out- not quite sure if it was a last minute warning, or some kind of plea; either one...or both…or maybe something completely different, as he felt a little uncomfortable under the Lohengrin's scalding gaze that mercilessly took in the sight of him.
Dietrich chuckled darkly at the absentminded call of his name as he gave a quick twist of his stringed fingers-instantly making the Gunslinger drop to his knees not of his own accord.
Tres, again, tried to move his immobile arms that hung down at his sides as he watched Dietrich saunter back up to him; his small frame gliding across the darkness like some jungle cat ready to pounce in the dead of night.
The boy was sin incarnate as he was so petite and pale-positively dripping with such a sexual femininity in the way his build was so perfectly lean and flexible; long muscles under silken skin stretching and moving seductively as he slowly walked to his Doll.
Iqus silently cursed himself that he could not help but notice the daring, provocative way Dietrich swayed his narrow hips as he approached Tres' kneeling form to be right in front if him- the hem of his black pants almost touching Tres' nose once he stopped.
Despite himself and his growing arousal, Tres hesitantly craned his neck to look up at Dietrich's face. What he saw did not disappoint him.
Dietrich sensuously trailed his fingertips down his long neck, instantly drawing attention to wherever his fingers were, before running his hands down the solid planes of his chest and down across his flat, leanly muscled abdomen-Tres eyes never straying from the path Dietrich's hands made down his own body; making the android crave to do the same to him with his own hands.
Dietrich finally stopped his fingers at his pants' zipper, which he pulled down slowly in between his thumb and forefinger; only slightly revealing more of his porcelain skin to the Killing Doll.
"You know what to do, don't you?" Dietrich chided almost merrily as he removed his hands away from his now open pants and gently tangled his fingers in Tres' silky soft, auburn locks.
Tres knew exactly what Dietrich wanted. He had never done this before, let alone even think about doing this to someone before. A tiny twinge of inexperience-fueled fear ripped past his gut as a flurry of thoughts; relentless, defeated thoughts as per his current, difficult situation and status in the RCO, grasped at him in a matter of milliseconds.
Tres realized he could now move his arms and hands; grateful for the common privilege again; and slowly brought them up to Dietrich's waiting, trapped arousal.
"Good boy…"Dietrich cooed with a smile from above Tres as the Gunslinger pulled Dietrich's erection from its confines and immediately dragged the flat of his tongue against the moistened slit that threatened to leak pre-come all over the carpet; making Dietrich instantly hiss in hypersensitive pleasure.
Tres hands moved to either side of Dietrich's thighs, holding him firmly as he administered a few more, long, languid licks up the entire member; purposefully massaging prominent veins that bulged in angry anticipation. Dietrich sighed and groaned his pleasure as he tilted his head back; finding himself in an awe-inspiring oblivion from how almost loving Tres' careful ministrations to him were like.
After coating Dietrich's throbbing member with enough saliva, Tres began bobbing his head on the slick, solid length before him, pushing against the tender underside with his tongue while his teeth occasionally grazed the tip of the enflamed head; everything making Dietrich moan appreciatively as he threaded his fingers wantonly through Tres' hair to encourage him.
Tres found that he could swallow Dietrich entire length with only a little effort, so over and over again; he deep throated his rock hard cock until it hit the back of his throat while applying a constant amount of suction to the hot flesh.
Dietrich, in turn, was barely able to keep standing for his knees had been reduced to the consistency of water that threatened to give on him- all throaty, pleading moans spilling from his supple lips as he received more mind-blowing, red hot pleasure than he had initially prepared for. Tres was just full of surprises, one of them being that he had a very, very skilled mouth; Dietrich was sure.
"Shit, Tres…I'm going to come in your mouth…right now," Dietrich somewhat stammered, somewhat gasped before fisting his hands roughly in Tres' hair as he filled the Gunslinger's warm, wet cavern with his hot essence which was promptly swallowed; a bit of it sliding down Tres' lips and chin as he came down from his high.
Utilizing his ability to move freely again, Tres slowly stood up in front of a slightly trembling, panting Dietrich whose smirk returned to his lips once he met the Gunslinger's darkened gaze.
Dietrich wickedly wrapped his arms around Tres' neck, now knowing that he would not have to use his strings anymore-Tres was not going to go anywhere- and coyly licked up the line of his own come that decorated Tres's cute, rounded chin; making the Gunslinger all but shiver in his arms.
"Bed…now," Dietrich commanded his Doll before grinding his already returning arousal against Tres' straining one; eliciting a surprised groan from the android…pure music to Dietrich's ears.
X
Caterina shivered a bit once the last of her clothing was finally stripped off her waiting, laying form. She could not deny, however, that her shiver was not so much because she was cold as it was that she was excited; just so taken by the situation that Isaak Fernand von Kampfer was completely naked as well and was about to make love to her.
She closed her eyes as she felt his weight slightly settle back on top of her; slowly turning her head to a side to let him know that she wanted her neck kissed again.
Isaac seemed to catch on to the hint and immediately, but without rushing, traced his tongue along the elegant dips and curves of her swan-like neck before closing his lips around the feather soft flesh.
"Please, Isaak…"Caterina whispered; certain now that she was unable to withstand anymore torture, as blissful and dream-like as it was…she wanted more.
For possibly only the second, true time in Isaak's life, he felt a genuine twinge of caring for someone other than himself-that other someone being Caterina Sforza at the moment; as he heard the quiet desperation in his lady's voice. She sounded so broken.
Pulling his lips away from her skin and settling them close to her ear, he purred, "Are you sure?"
Caterina's eyes partially opened as she met his searching gaze with a calm one of her own. In al actuality, Caterina could not recall a recent time that she had been more certain of anything else…not since Alessandro.
"Yes," she breathed over his cheek, sending a slight chill up his spine and putting his subtle worry to rest.
With no more words Isaak shifted to be in between her legs, planting reassuring kisses all over her trim stomach as he performed the skilled maneuver.
With delicate touches, Isaak ran his hands up the backs of her impossibly long thighs, making them lift up automatically, from which Isaak placed them upon each of his shoulders.
Caterina could do nothing but watch as Isaak moved her body as he saw fit to accommodate their lovemaking; her breath coming out in short, rapid pants as her heart fluttered wildly inside her chest.
Isaak positioned himself at her dripping, yearning entrance before leaning down closer to her- he wanted to be able to kiss away her pain when it happened.
Arms on either side of her, Isaak slowly, slowly inserted his painful, throbbing arousal inside Caterina- eyes never leaving her face as he searched for any signs of discomfort. She was so blissfully tight that it almost hurt him when he entered her, as he sighed out the air he had been unconsciously holding in extreme pleasure.
Immediately upon being breached, Caterina's face had scrunched up a bit; brow furrowed and lips pulled between teeth as she tried to deal with the bout of white-hot pain that seemed to scorch her very core. Isaak was big, and the pain only increased the further he pushed inside her- her hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders to make him feel some of her pain.
Isaak waiting patiently for his sweet Caterina to adjust to the new intrusion before making a move; he truly did not want to hurt her. Ever.
Depsite having small tears brim at her eyes, Caterina's face smoothed out and she softened her hold on Isaak's scratched shoulders; her pain slowly giving way to immense pleasure.
"Isaak..." she gasped as he began to move in and out of her; her legs tightening their hold around him as he thrust carefully, where the more he moved, the better it felt.
She felt her inner walls being massaged in such a way that it sent her very soul into disarray as he filled her over and over again; grunting and moaned as he did so in that luscious timber he owned.
Isaak was beside himself at this point. His name was breathed over and over again as he slowly, leisurely made love to the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on; her small hands squeezing at him encouragingly as he felt her legs tremble a bit on his shoulders.
Isaak had never believed in angels before, but as he looked down upon Caterina; both caught up in the passion between them; he was quite certain he was gazing upon one now.
Caterina's back arched gracefully as her head tossed back, making all her brilliant golden locks-almost another source of light in the dim room- fan out even more against the black pillows and sheets; her throes of passion beginning to completely overtake her now.
Isaak leaned down even more to capture her enticing, parted mouth in a kiss; thereby adjusting his angle of thrusts, which made her scream multiple times from the gripping pleasure into his mouth.
Caterina devoured Isaak's mouth with a flurry of quick, hasty kisses and nips; grateful of the muffling effect, as his pace increased-over and over again hitting a certain spot that sent Caterina's mind in a haze and made her lower stomach tighten up with a gripping, demanding need to orgasm.
He could tell she was close to reaching her peak; she felt too good at this point as her walls were constricting relentlessly around his cock in attempts to keep him in place; to feel him as much as possible. Isaak broke off their kiss to rest his head against her soft bosom as he felt his own climax pull with a burning persistence at his groin.
Once Isaak had laid his head down, Caterina had quickly wrapped her slender arms around his neck and screamed his name as Isaak brought her over the edge; making her body experience orgasm and convulse from his continued thrusts.
Isaak then fisted his hands in the sheets beside them as he breathlessly moaned Caterina's precious name and came deep inside her in long, hot ribbons of his essence that made his eyes close and lips part silently as his release made unexplainable euphoria ripple through him.
Both could do nothing for a bit as they fought to catch their breath; just relishing in the afterglow of their sexual high and overall comfortable, exhausted state. Mind and body sated peacefully for the first time in a while as neither Isaak nor Caterina regretted for a second what they had just done.
Something about their being together signified something very deep for the both of them. Isaak's conquest shattered something that had been hurting Caterina for far too long.
Finally, Isaak slipped himself from her body and moved to lie down beside her; resting on his side so he may look over her; needing to know that she was okay. Kampfer could not help but care for her. This had gone beyond one of their little, petty sniping games-they had made love, and he could now be honest with himself that he cared for her as a result.
Caterina did not look at him as Isaak shifted to be at her side; she could not as she felt hot, fresh tears run down her cheeks, though she also did not turn away from him in an attempt to hide.
She was surprised; relieved even, that she did not feel her usual rage of crushing emotions warring inside of her. Everything that Isaak had done to her, every cleansing moment that had passed between them, had completely silenced that beast that was Caterina's moral conscious and unjust guilt that she allowed to tear and shred at her daily. Instead, Caterina was left with a strange, but overwhelmingly calming serenity from the inside out- making her cry just because she could not do anything else.
Tearing her away from her thoughts, Caterina felt Isaak gently brush away the tears from one of her cheeks with his thumb. It was a simple but loving gesture that made Caterina turn to look at her lover in the eye, finding his usual piercing gaze quite soft with a hint of authentic concern.
"Do you regret it?" Isaak asked boldly; purposefully asking such a straight question so he may receive a straight answer. He needed to know. No more games.
Caterina swallowed the lump that had arisen in her throat before answering. She was not sure if she could clearly explain how she was feeling to the Magician- remorsefully peaceful for once, warm and happy to be so close to him, content and pleased to finally be detached from her former life…a life that only meant pain for her now.
"No, I don't," she offered sweetly, earnestly; bringing a delicate hand up to gently touch his thin face as she let a sad smile curve her perfect lips; "I haven't been happy like this…in a long time, Isaak."
Isaak blinked at her devastatingly honest words, watching as a few new tears rolled down her angelic face- finding that he loved the way her small, warm hand held his cheek while she smiled up at him.
After faint upturn of his thin lips at the feathery-light feeling her words gave him in the pit of his stomach, Isaak leaned down to kiss her chastely, her responding back immediately by matching his.
Isaak was not completely sure that he understood her meaning behind her words, but he was positive about one thing…
She was his…at last.
X
Dietrich hastily, madly even, pushed himself away from Tres in order to completely remove his own pants; only taking a few seconds to accomplish said task before practically flinging himself back into Tres's arms.
Tres only had a moment to gaze at the fully nude Lohengrin boy, but what had seen struck him as nothing short of perfection.
Tres wasted no time in hoisting up the small boy, who immediately wrapped his long legs around Tres' middle, and bringing them both over to the bed.
Instead of dropping him on the oversized bed, Tres chose to sit down with Dietrich still attached to him; deciding that he liked the fiery, sexy Dietrich in his lap.
Lohengrin had other plans, as it were, for once Tres sat down on the bed, Dietrich roughly pushed him down to lay back to be completely at Dietrich's mercy or lack there of.
Dietrich's soft lips were immediately on one of Tres' nipples; sucking harshly and biting while he raked his fingernails down Tres's sides, leaving marks from all his ministrations, but unable to stop- he wanted this too badly.
Tres gasped as soon as Dietrich starting sucking and biting at his chest; finding that it was becoming quite a task to even see straight as strangled moans of pain and pleasure left him-completely in love with how the Puppetmaster's hands felt on him- so needy and demanding of something Tres was all too willing to give at this point.
Dietrich sank down lower on Tres' immaculate, bigger body, licking down a trail to Tres' navel where he nipped at the overly sensitive flesh there, where he knew all the sensations would mercilessly pool low in Tres' groin and drive him crazy. Dietrich did not have to look up from his work to know Tres was in Heaven, as he was practically purring in his baritone timber voice and slightly lifting his hips up to further press his skin to Dietrich's skilled mouth; desperation for more getting the better of him as he felt he was going into a sweet madness.
Tres pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes as Dietrich finished pulling Tres' pants from him; discarding the annoying article of clothing quickly to the floor so he may finally see the result of his work.
"Mmm, Tres…I was right," Dietrich cooed, purposefully letting his warm breath ghost over Tres' enlarged, sensitive member; making the Killing Doll squirm a bit amid the sheets, "…you are going to be fun."
The comment was filthy; Dietrich's lips twisting up in his trademark smirk as he regarded Tres' swollen cock before finally dragging the flat of his tongue up the entire underside of it.
"Dietrich!" Tres all but yelped; unused to such mind-blowing stimulation as he tensed up and sat up to rest on his elbows.
Knowing that Tres could now see everything he was going to do, Dietrich smiled quickly before swallowing Tres' rock hard cock, humming as he did so as if it was some delicacy he was privileged to have.
Tres' head fell back as he moaned to the ceiling, knowing that he could not stop if he tried as long as Dietrich kept sucking him so wonderfully forcefully. Teeth nipped at his flesh, making him gasp and groan, before a warm, wet tongue replaced them to lick the worried, pink flesh; every, miniscule sensation making Tres arch off the bed and cling to the crisp sheets beside him as if his life depended upon it.
Dietrich, himself, was melting from Tres' positively delectable sexual noises- every one of them sending jolts of heat straight to his already pulsating groin as he watched his sexy Gunslinger writhe and moan before him.
Without allowing Tres complete satisfaction, Dietrich let Tres' begging length slip from his mouth.
Tres made an adorable noise of protest; something mixed between a whine and a grunt; at the sudden loss of the most elevating pleasure he had ever experienced as he cast a searching gaze to Dietrich.
Dietrich's murderous smile never faltered as he slowly crawled on top of Tres' sprawled out form and said huskily, "As much as I like tasting you, I have a better idea."
Tres gulped; eyes betraying him and greedily roaming all over Dietrich's long, slender form as the pale angelic-looking boy moved to straddle his hips.
Tres licked his suddenly dry lips in painful anticipation; finding himself yearn for Dietrich's own lips against his own again; as he watched Dietrich lean down so he about hovered directly on top of him.
Tres could not resist; his dire un-satisfaction ruling his every system now, as he leaned up and hungrily captured Dietrich's lips with his own; moving and pressing them hard together as tongues immediately slipped into the other's mouth to begin a new round of play.
Tres's hands had moved up tightly muscled thighs, up an impossible narrow waist, up along bony shoulders and settled themselves in Dietrich's sexy mess of silken brown hair while the two battled for dominance with their tongues and lips; moaning softly as they did so.
The shameless exploration of his body made Dietrich whimper into Tres' mouth as he cleverly reached behind himself and grasped Tres' throbbing sex with one hand; positioning it at his entrance while never breaking their flurry and hurried, hot kisses that he could not help but love so much.
Suddenly, Tres felt something unbelievably tight and hot push itself down upon his thick cock, instantly making the Killing Doll break their kiss as he tilted his head back in the pillows and moaned loudly from such a gripping sensation.
Had Tres not have squeezed his eyes shut as he arched into the warm body above him, he would have saw a break in Dietrich's usual calm façade, as the Marionettespieler had grit his teeth and knit his eyebrows together as the intruding, hot pain racked through him as he slowly inched himself down Tres' stiffened cock.
Dietrich leaned back, away from Tres; further impaling himself on Tres' erection as his bout if immense pain starting to give way to familiar pleasure of being filled so completely. Once Dietrich sat upright in Tres' lap, the tip of Tres' cock slightly brushed his prostate, making the Puppetmaster moan and arch his back beautifully; maddeningly sweet pleasure beginning to corrupt both men.
Needing to feel more of that glorious stimulation against his prostate, Dietrich began easing himself up and down Tres' engorged length; rocking his hips as he went to grind down upon Tres' own heated arousal.
Tres's gun-calloused hands flew to grasp a hold of Dietrich's waist to help him roll his hips sensuously against his own to increase the intensity of the friction that brought them both insane amounts of pleasure.
Dietrich moaned into the blackness of the room, filling it, as Tres pounded up into him vigorously now; absolutely obsessed with making Dietrich react to him that way as he watched the man above him move in just the right way that massaged his cock perfectly to coax orgasm.
Tres watched through half-lidded, clouded eyes as Dietrich moved on top of him, while running his hands up his own abdomen, up to his perfectly portioned chest when he stopped his hands to pinch his own nipples in between his thumb and forefinger. His moans were instantly louder as he added to the pleasure he was already feeling, and Tres could not help but feel even more turned on from the sight of Dietrich touching himself like that.
Tres tightened his grip on the boy's tiny waist as a warning that he was close to being pushed over his edge. Dietrich, knowingly, sinisterly, increased his pace; despite how tired it made his calf and thigh muscles feel, until he was practically bouncing up and down on top of the deadly Gunslinger; making both men moan loudly in failed attempts to call out for the other.
Dietrich slid a hand down from his chest to seize his neglected member that begged for attention in between their moving bodies; stroking it as frantically as Tres's thrusts so as to bring himself to complete, mind-warping satisfaction.
Tres was feeling marvelously overheated as he was being barraged with such overriding sensations to his simple systems; seeing Dietrich pleasure and stroke himself fried his senses, accompanied by the all too heavenly sensations he received from thrusting relentlessly up into that body of his was way too much for the stoic Gunslinger to handle.
"Dietrich, I…am so close," Tres managed to say, despite finding it hard for his haggard breath to sustain intelligent words to speak to the beautiful, deathly sexy man above him; controlling him and his crazy pleasure.
Dietrich 'hmm'ed in response; seemingly lost in his own task of fucking himself on Tres' cock and jerking himself to completion.
With a few more almost violent thrusts upward, Tres came long and hard inside Dietrich's warm body; coating his insides with his hot essence, as Dietrich did not cease its blissful movements on top of him; everything making the rigid Killing Doll squeeze his eyes shut and moan Dietrich's name…much to the Puppetmaster's delight.
He could not have asked for anything more upon hearing Tres shout his name during his earth-shattering orgasm, which served to push him over his own teetering edge as he came in long, white arcs in his hand and across Tres' stomach- all the while moaning Tres' name over and over again like a mantra as the nagging waves of hard-earned relief coursed through him.
Both rode out their orgasms, practically just using the other's body as a vessel for the extra pleasure- none willing to separate themselves from the other right away for fear that this dream-come-true ecstasy they both felt would leave as soon as they did.
As soon as their sexual high had reached a plateau and started to slowly fade away, Dietrich lifted himself completely off Tres and lazily, wearily plopped down on the bed next to him; breathing regularly still a main focus among the two.
Dietrich was pleased. Tres was…dumbfounded. What they had just done had felt just so sinfully good; Tres just could not wrap his mechanical mind around just yet…not with his body feeling so superbly spent the way it was at the moment.
"That was great," Dietrich chided happily beside Tres; tearing him away from his thoughts and making him look over at the Marionettespieler next to him that had just got done turning his very world upside down.
Taking him by surprise, as Tres had fully expected Dietrich to leave right about now, said boy cuddled up close to his side; laying his head on Tres' strong shoulder and placing a hand on top of the Gunslinger's chest.
Tres hesitantly wrapped his arms around the boy; feeling better as soon as he did so as he came to terms with the fact that he liked being held so closely by the Lohengrin- Dietrich automatically tucking his head under Tres' chin, lovingly.
Iqus simply could not find the right words to say the Puppetmaster that lie in such a clinging manner to his body. Was this just about sex? Did Dietrich truly care for him? Better still, did he care for the Lohengrin boy as well?
Thoughts plagued Tres' overexerted mind, but Dietrich's calm words tore him from his condemning reverie.
"Should you ever see an RCO member with dark blue hair around in the facilities, be sure to avoid him, Tres. You are mine," Dietrich stated as he tightened his hold around the last of the elite Killing Dolls; squeezing himself closer to that warm and perfectly shaped body that enthralled him so.
Tres instantly looked down at Dietrich who was working on going to sleep; the meaning of his words sending him all kinds of messages, however.
His words were protective, worried; burdened. Dietrich wanted Tres all to himself; no one else.
Tres smirked to himself once he noticed the steady, somewhat heavy breathing pattern Dietrich emitted; signifying that he was fast asleep half-way on top of him.
Tres silently sighed as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of Dietrich's head; the notion of obeying whatever path this night had led him down of not being so bad clearly revealing itself to him.
Dietrich truly was a diamond in the rough, and the fact that he cared enough to want Tres all to himself was prominent evidence enough that Tres should try to make whatever it was between them work. He needed to be needed.
There would never be love; just a never-ending game of dominance and servitude. Who commanded whom would be the ultimate objective to forgo between the two in their time together. Somehow, in some twisted, misconstrued way, that seemed to suit Tres just fine, however.
They would care for each other without it ever being official; love without ever recognizing it as being love; and care with forever denying that they cared. That was his, their, unforgiving fate now.
Tres reluctantly allowed his own eyes to slide shut to welcome the alluring call that was sleep as he gave a last thought to his future with Dietrich…and how he quietly prayed that Caterina would have something better.
"…and it was about that time I realized that it takes about four or five wrongs to make a right." – April S.
"Sometimes we only see clearly through a lens of pain." – Kambei from Samurai 7