Calloused fingertips strummed the strings of a lyre. Cascades of notes and calculated plucks turned into calming melodies. A clear, refreshing voice sang in the cool breeze as they sat under the privacy of leaves. When there was nothing to do, when there was a craving for intimacy, when there was a sunset, the lovers left the stress of headquarters for an isolated place known only to them. His head rested in her lap while a lyre's lullaby lulled him to sleep. Fatigue plagued him for weeks: constant missions, more paperwork, more assignments. When another song ended, she set the instrument aside.
"It's time to go," the young woman said.
"Mm..."
He stood up with drowsiness in his eyes; she checked her dress for any sign of dirt. It was not long before Nevra pulled her against him. Fangs brushed against that soft neck. They punctured their favorite spot—she was particularly sensitive at the crook of her neck—and blood trickled into his mouth in gulps. Breaths and heartbeats echoed as he continued to drink. Meanwhile, gentle hands gripped the back of his top. Once almost all strength left her, those fangs withdrew, and there was a light kiss. Then, he carried the woman and the lyre back to his room. He was a gentleman, of course. A gentleman with a voracious appetite whose patience was rewarded when he could continue his "eating." The locked door and the time and the discarded dress existed as mere details. Her voice had pleasantly sung while the "devouring" continued. Affectionate bites marked thighs, chest, and collarbone. That silky, supple body with a scent of vanilla encouraged his appetite and excitement.
Moonlight streamed through the stained glass window when Nevra reached a temporary state of satisfaction. He licked his fingers and lips; sweat and such stuck to her flushed skin. More than just ecstasy stained the sheets. Beauty, ardor, happiness- she embodied not only those. Qualities of pride and ambition made him smitten. The more time spent together, the more her captivating charm snared his heart. Their gazes met. And that sort of expression afterward teased lustful desire. Her and only her, Nevra enjoyed and spoiled.
Once again, a relaxing melody permeated through the air. Others formed a crowd around the faelienne songstress; he observed in the shadows. The performance ended, and she graced a gentle smile upon them. He chuckled as demands for an encore were thrown. Ah, that song...Horror must never reach it; despair must never touch it. Not even eternity had the right to take it away. That was his vow.