I made this for Battygirl! MERRY X-MAS! Oh yeah, I didn't have enough material to finish the songfic, so I took out the song. But you'll love it anyhow!

WARNING; LIME! REALLY DARK AND INTENSE!

He had just finished lighting the room with candles; though scentless the room lingered with the aroma of some unidentified substance. Blood, perhaps? Sweat, perhaps? Tears, perhaps? She, his victim-his lover-gazes up at him, her eyes trembling and glistening with that color he so loved to mar. The color of the innocence he loved to toy with, loved to mar, eat, and rape. He nears her, she draws back from him. A soft chuckle escapes his smooth lips, his words edged with coldness and lust.

"Come now, Hakumei," he starts with a solace. The most subtle trace of passion spilling free from the lust and coldness in his words. How could a man ever bear such coldness? She sometimes questioned if he was trying to do the same to her. If he was endeavoring the shatter her heart, perhaps into countless shards, and every shard would do its part in making her soul bleed dry. And not too long later she would be complete, she would be one with him.

She never questioned how she could still love him. She knew the answer; he-the monster-gives her hope. He would be the only thing driving her insane, and at the very brink of insanity, he would pull her back into warm arms. He would embrace her and she would love it. She would soon deny, preferring to fall into the abyss and fall endlessly into the demented soul of an unloved being. But when she fell she didn't fall into the abyss; false hope shined upon as she embraced the sensation of such a befalling. She soon found herself, once again, enduring her nightmarish reality; falling back into her artist's bed. And he would make love to her again...Rape her again.

"Carl, please no," she whimpers as he nears her naked and trembling form.

Hakumei tries to crawl away on her backside, not ever daring to expose further flesh to him. He had taken enough-marred enough-and everyday he would mar a little more. He would take a little more, her blood and tears were the only colors he needed to paint his masterpiece. His hand in on her knee suddenly, cold and unloving. She gasps as his hand dare wander inward, though she was not surprised, the coldness of his hands never grew old. His hand travels downward, tracing her thin legs.

She can do nothing but watch on as he plans out the night. Plans out how he will make love to her, how much pain he will inflict upon...Why did he he need so many colors for his artwork? His hand reaches her ankle, he eagerly pulls her back down toward him. His free hand wraps around her tiny waist, the other now pulling her leg apart from the other; he will play no more games. His body is bare, cold, and unforgivable. His body was used for evil and his body committed evil. How he loved to blacken Hakumei's flesh with his body, nothing pleased him more than to watch the innocent-his victims-squirm and weep at the sight of him.

"Sh..." he whispers as his leans in to kiss her. She swiftly denies, she can't take anymore. He pulls her bare form to his, ready to plunder her soul...

"Please no," she weeps as he pushes her back. That evil smirk, the smile of demons, lingering on his lips.

He has been more creative this time, blue rose petals lie carelessly beneath them. He knows his lover-his plaything-simply adored blue roses. He loved to taunt her with them, they were one of his key materials he used to paint his masterpiece. He smirks as he steals a kiss from her lips. He knew that she used to love it when she dreamed of kissing him. Now, she'd rather die. He loved that and she would love it too. Her hands are on his shoulders in seconds as he parts to legs with his own. His right hand traveling up the side of her leg, his other on her shoulder.

"Please..." she weeps again. He smirks as he plants teasing kisses on her neck. His fangs descending and grazing the tender flesh repeatedly until she cranes her neck back. He loved it when she gave in like that, she'd rather that he'd kill her than make love to her. He loved to bring her hope and than watch it crumble in her grasp.

"Dear Hakumei, I will never kill you. You're too much fun to fuck with," he curses. She whimpers again and he wraps his arms around her waist, trapping her arms at her sides. His lips then descend to her chest, where he teasingly kisses her breasts. He's amiss of the sight, he is more wary of the sensation that runs through his body-and runs through hers-whenever he gets a taste of her virtue. He slides one hand out from under her. It slides up her hip and chest slowly, mocking her, telling her their lovemaking will not be over soon.

Taking her nipple in his mouth, while the other is between his fingers, he attempts to make her squirm. His tongue slowly and viciously laps over the flesh, his free hand toys with the other by stroking it repeatedly. She refuses to submit any longer, despite her breasts are one of the most ticklish parts of her body. He sends the handful of nerves in her breasts over the brink as he bits down around the nipple. He has her now, for she begins to squirm and he knows that she is more than ready to accept her reward.

Or rather, her punishment.

He coos softly in her ear as he releases her waist, restraining one arm above her head so he could hold her hand with no dispute. His other hand is above her head, grasping the blanket as he positions himself before her entrance. Looking into her eyes, searching for the soul he would torment. She looks away, not wanting to see him smirk as he dares to break her once again.

"Look at me!" he shouts at her. She knows she must watch, or else he will hurt her-hurt her worse. He leans into her face as he thrust, slowly and painfully, and he kisses her as she screams. He knows that there is must more pleasure in letting her soul scream. Her screams would shudder through her entire body-and it did-and he knows that she is touching him. She doesn't know it though; perhaps that is what kills her the most?

Her lips drag away from his, she let's out soft sobs as he rocks against her. His hips are ferocious against hers, viciously moving up and down. She cries as he pushes her legs apart a little further, gaining further access so he can sink a little deeper. And then he comes, his body collapsing and rising upon hers at an almost endless pace. His moans and screams ringing into her ears louder than church bells. She punches into his back, hiccuping sobs erupted from her mouth; soft and harmonic ones. She cries into his neck, whispering her pleas in his heedless ears.

She knows he loves to hear her beg him. She knows that she mustn't but it's the only thing she can do when he forces her to make love with him-when he rapes her.

His seed erupts into her soon; he's going harder and faster, attempting to find news ways to break her. But she is so tense, so reluctant and complex. She's so used to the same game. By now Carl should know the path to his destination, but her core is bundle of pathways. And he knows how to make her reveal her secrets to him. She screams so, as he explores her path. His hips wriggle violently as he lingers inside her, trying to find his destination. But-why? He knows the path now-doesn't he? And her walls tighten around him, utterly refusing him to let him pass.

"Why?" she weeps into his shoulder. She can't fight anymore. Her hands lie feebly on his shoulder-blades, resting on the distort flesh her nails had created. Though she doesn't stop squirming, her body cannot deny the pain she is receiving while he makes love to her. He begins his teases again, pulling out of her and resting his hardness on her inner-thigh. He pants as he rests his full weight on her. He's glistening with sweat, heated, and blissfully fatigued from their lovemaking. Nonetheless, he is not satisfied. He begins to tease her again with his fingers.

"Such soft hair, Hakumei, and beautiful eyes," he says teasingly. He lifts himself off of her a bit, kissing her trembling eyelids softly and curling her sweat filled hair with his fingers. He loves it as she watches, knowing there is nothing she can do until he's done. He kisses her neck, making her gasp as his lips roughly caress the tender flesh. Her heels dig into his thighs, she grasps his upper arms. His arms are not affected, and he gently grasps both of her breasts. His thumb strokes both of her nipples, he smirks down at her naked form.

She's covered in sweat, tears, and blood-She'll simply love the next round.

His lips continue downward to her body, kissing her nipples before sliding is tongue over them. As he predicted, she flinches and he straddles her waist. Just for a tease; he takes each nipple in his mouth, one at a time, and sucks them-she soon composes and allows him to finish his journey. Planting teasing kisses on her tummy, wishing his unborn children good night and his journey continues downward. He kisses her hips before releasing her waist and letting his hands venture downward. Almost kneeling between her legs, he grasps her left leg and forces her knee to bend.

He knows she's as warm as he is now, aroused and confused. With that smirk still in place, he kisses her inner thigh, leaving a trail of wet, open mouth kisses leading to her knee. He smirks now, setting his hand on her bent knee, once again, almost kneeling between her legs, his head descends and he slides his tongue over the most sacred part of her body. She thrashes wildly, not knowing whether to scream or moan. But he restrains her again, rather enjoying the taste of her misery and passion, taking her hand and tightly grasping her knee; he slides his tongue over her scared body part and hears a soft moan erupt from her mouth.

"C-Carl..." she stutters again. He has never done this before. What other ways could he torment her? As if on cue, when she asked herself that question, his tongue slowly slipped into her, through her gates and now grazing her walls. She gasps, grasping the blanket with her free hand and, though she knows she mustn't, pleasured moans erupt from her mouth. The room is blurry and her back arches, there's no pain in this, that must be why she loves this so.

His tongue laps further inside her, teasing her and taunting her. Her walls warming and contracting around his bloody tongue...His eyes face upward to focus on the rising and falling motions of her chest. She is loving this more than he is.

"Carl...Just a little more..." she knows she mustn't say. But the words erupt from her mouth as if she is on the verge of her first, consensual orgasm.

He's truly tearing her innocence away right now. She's truly enjoying it and he knows that is how he would truly steal her virtue. He releases her hand, his free arm straddling her waist so he could dig in further. Hakumei's hands are soon on the back of his head, pushing his head a little harder between her legs. She wants so much more, that is her body wants more, her mind is screaming for her just run. But her body won't budge, not the verge of such bliss. He submits to her whim for a moment or two, his tongue taking new motions inside her and she can't help but pant. He smirks against her and he moves his tongue harder against her walls, causing her nails to dig into the back of his head; nearly pulling his hair out, and she screams. Her knees bending more and her back arching much higher.

Why must he break her so? He must want to torture her, why else would he use such torment to harm her? She feels his warm tongue recede from her path, sliding over the rest of the scared area slowly before his tongue licks her from the belly up. He's positioned himself again, taking Hakumei's hands in his own and thrusting into her. She's warm now, and her walls tighten and contract around him. He moans and roughly kisses her, he knows that she loves it as much as he does.

Another moan erupts from Hakumei's mouth. Carl pulls out and he begins thrusts harder and faster than he has ever done before. He swore he saw the heavens as ecstatic waves splash over his body. He's rocking harder and faster against her, leaving bruises-most likely-as he thrust. She's warm, wet, very different from when they previously made love. His body is at a vicious pace as he moves about her body-like a rabid dog ravenous for meat-and she submits so willingly to his hunger. Grasping the blanket and massaging her nails into her back, she closes her eyes and tries to deny the heat pooling between her legs, the pleasure building at her groin and flooding into her body. He knows she can no longer deny, not after breaking her will to cry for him.

Soon he collapses onto her, not willing to go another round.

"S-Satan," she pants before closing her eyes. He truly is Satan, and she-his lover-is his concubine. He lifts himself off her, she has passed out. Receding from his bed he slips on his clothes and prepares to leave. Though not before taking one last glance at his lover.

"We'll have much more fun tomorrow night, my concubine," he mocks before leaving the room.