Paradiso at Gato Negro
A Sailor Moon Fanfiction
Written by Nikki Miyawaza
Disclaimer: Do you really want me to say the dread words that every fanfic writer loathes to say? Fine, I'll say it. I really do shave my legs. Or was it, "I really wuv my legs?" But honestly, I DO wuv my legs. Sailor Moon, Ruruouni Kenshin does not belong to me, but the doorman who cusses at least once in the other chapter does. He's my part-time plumber. You don't know what my pet crocodile puts in the toilet!!! His name is "Snooger."
A/N: MUY IMPORTANT! POR FAVOR, READ!
{blah, blah} represents Darien's Amusing Thoughts. [blah, blah] represents Serena's Amusing Thoughts.
And, Darien's character might be a wittle conceited, but it's one of his character flaws, and that's what fits in his description as the rich and famous.
Chapter II: The Second Floor
***
And there, as if some adorable caterpillar in the blossoming stage to beauty with wings, lies the goddess he found bewitching on top of his boxers. Her situation made the humanity in her immortal beauty evident, however she still captivated him with her charming wit and innocence. Closer, he could see the hue of her eyes, the most iridescent shade of azure, like being enveloped in the rebirth of nature, spring skies overhead, and the refreshing impact she had upon him.
"Care to explain why you are wrapped in my comforter, and your face is in my underwear?"
Darien expected a submissive, timid reply, considering her status as a chambermaid and lower-class, yet somehow, he receive no bashful replies, but a sarcastic remark.
"You know, I'd love to tell you why my face is in your underwear. But I'm a little preoccupied right now. Being wrapped in satin is a fine way to spend your time, but I think I need to do my job now, so would you mind getting me out of here!?!"
As the last words were said, a bit too headstrong for his tastes, Darien entangled the tiny kitten in caterpillar incognito without the least bit consent for the girl inside the padded comforters, sending Serena in a sore fit about her bruised bum. Patting it ever so gently, this action allowed Darien to see a very satisfying sight of her well-endowed butt.
"Ohh, I hate my butt."
"Now, don't hate something that . . . magnificent."
Insulted, the kitten with rather sharp claws that came with that mouth gave Darien a devastating glare. Then, she gave him the cold shoulder, gathering the satin comforters in her grip, in attempt to make the bed.
However, the surgeons disliked her distance that emitted from her anger towards their first impression. Startling her into her frozen state of body, his strong arms gathered her petite figure into a loving embrace, meant for sexually teasing, not a sign of affection, and with those limbs came his chin upon the juncture where her shoulder and neck meets. His breath was spider-like fingers upon her skin, and with every breath he took, she gave the tantalizing response of closed eyes and a shiver across the length of her spine.
"Mewl." Her sudden purr caused both parties to stiffen, one surprised and embarrassed, the other brimming in testosterone and male-pride.
Already, Serena could feel his arrogant smile hidden in her skin, but could only concentrate on the pooling of sparks in her lower abdomen. Never had she felt this way with any man. Never was she this sexually frustrated. However, Darien wasn't in a better condition. Her slight responses caused him to groan in frustration, which instead of seducing her into submission, it back-stabbed him ruthlessly.
Never had the playboy doctor desired to take any woman without thought or control as he needed with this beautiful chambermaid. Never would he take his own pleasure before hers, but all Darien could fantasize was drowning in her warmth, repeatedly in the stark hours at night and the dawning minutes of morning.
"I . . . d-don't th-think . . . you sh-should . . . d-do th-that." Was her primary weak response.
"But you should get angry with me, my little kitten. Please forgive me." With every word spoken, his lips trailed her skin, starting from the baby- soft areas of her collarbone to the feathery skin on her ear, leathery and insatiable. He took in her scent, for it flooded his senses, ransoming his self-control and leaving the man vulnerable to her spellbound. French vanilla.
His tongue could not resist from tasting the soft skin on her velvet ears, which Serena gave her response with an "EEP." The lips were tingling from temptation, brushing against her ears when he spoke.
"I won't tell. Unless, a deal is made between you and me."
{Why the HELL do I want this deal anyway? It isn't human to ask a stranger to be your companion. It isn't human to have this familiarity with someone whose face you've never encountered until today, and to feel sudden protection and emotional vulnerability towards this one individual. Then why am I acting outside the human boundaries?}
However, despite his mind debating against his heart, the flaxen-haired pixie left her presence everywhere upon his skin. All that he could perceive was her alluring scent, that wonderful, sarcastic grin, and her aloof sensuality. She was everywhere on his skin. He could smell her, taste her, and then, Darien knew that he could not afford to lose this treasure within his grasp. If only he could slate his thirsts for this bewitching siren enough, in bed and in life, if only he can envelope himself in her precious warmth enough, then the naive playboy could merely walk away, satisfied for the rest of his pitiful life. So this he thought . . .
At this, the young chambermaid turned swiftly to face the towering 6'5, squarely and intimidating as if she was much taller than he. She took her feminine wrist, swung it back, and punched him firmly on his cheek. However surprised, Darien did not falter, merely looking down upon the tiny kitten with wide eyes. He, in the many years he's existed as Darien Shields, has been punched by any man or woman on the living earth. And yet, this little woman-girl somehow gave him his first punch.
"If you ever think I'm going to act as your little dirty whore, think again, asshole! Just because you are wealthy and good-looking, doesn't mean I'll submit to you, losing dignity and the only integrity in this whole fucking world."
Still immobile was his eyes staring bewildered at the ranting chambermaid goddess, until he threw his head back and laughed whole-heartedly. To the tiny chambermaid, it was a marvelous sight, the epitome of genuine maleness and beauty becoming one man, one body of superior greatness. May she gawk or drool over such a sight, but men with these looks only come once in the bluest moon. Unknowingly, she took a brief look at the moon. It was an ordinary lunarian sight, nothing blue about it.
Once his laughter was quenched, his arms once again appeared, circling her waist, which was the envy of all women, for it was small and curved, fitting in the mass of his hands.
"Dear kitten, I don't want you to be my whore, per se. I am in need of a companion, someone who I can have conversations with and enjoy my evening in her presence. Maybe a few kisses here and there. If you want to be my mistress, then it will be your move, for I won't touch you. Though it might kill me in the end. Unlike your popular belief, others do hold some integrity in them."
It was then Serena gazed up at him with skeptical eyes. [Is this guy for real?]
"What makes you think I want to be your companion?"
{Excellent question. What makes her want to be my companion? Except I'm beautiful and wealthy and charming . . . }
"You can have anything you desire, within boundaries." [Anything I desire? Is this what God sent me from heaven to relieve my hospital payments? Couldn't he just send me a brick of $20K falling from the sky, falling on my head, and sending me into a temporary comatose? It would have been easier.]
"Anything? Does that mean I can have $20K before next week?"
"Would you like to tell me why?"
"Not really. So I wouldn't mind it if you just gave the money. But there is a few exceptions. Number one: You are allowed to do anything with me that doesn't concern murder, killing, anything illegal, lying, cheating, and sex."
"You sure you don't want to consider the last one?"
"Damn bastard."
"No, my mother was married before she had me. And one more exception, you call me master, my little kitten."
Serena gave him a stare, trying to find some sanity left within this demented guest. How within 30 minutes, she became the companion of some conceited, witty bachelor with looks to spare.
"Don't think so, pig."
Then at the final words spoken at "pig," his lips descended down to her tiny brush-stroked lips, as if they were painted in some celestial portrait, succeeding in what no man has ventured off before. Into the spell- binding web that he conjured for the tiny miss in attempt to slate his insatiable lust that traveled his veins, causing him to an almost devastating shake. The presumptuous playboy was shaking, and somehow it was as if he became the victim to his own deceit.
Her taste was unlike any other maiden that graced his path, strutting their well-endowed goods as if some prize to feast upon. It was of innocence and pure grace, and this caused him to envelope himself into her warmth, deeper. Stroking tenderly, there was no urgency in this kiss, no indifferent lust that came fast and overwhelming. Yet, has there been any other man who took her as he did?
Such a thought commanded that devilish lips of his to become passionate fires of fury, demanding and passionate, as if the very idea had brought incontrollable rage into his life. Who could touch her, taste her entire innocence without corrupting the vestal virgin within? Even a man like himself, could taint, could shatter that fragile porcelain this perfection was created from.
"Just sampling a taste, is all."
Under lust filled eyelids, she stared in a stupor over the occurrences that took place before.
"No-no. It will be your first and last taste. No kisses."
In attempt to control the boiling rage under his protected emotions, he muffled his near-escaping growl.
"Are you sure?"
It took within a few moments for her response to come, as if she was heavied by doubt and temptation. Her skepticism got better of her however, to his downfall.
"Yes, sir. I'm a companion, and not a whore as you say."
{How dare she defy me? Me?!?! Of all people?}
With her final word, he watched as she took uneven steps to the door and closed her passageway to my room. It was then Darien could unleash the building anger and lust in his system, throwing his lantern out the window, clearly not in the mental process of life without a light. His head rested, partly from exhaustion, on the soft satins of the bed, while his hands were unrestless, disfiguring the cloth in the fist of his hand. Pants uneven and rugged.
{I will make her come to me. And when I do, she will be the one begging for my touch, then and there, will she know who is her master.}
When senses came to him, he called room service,
"Err, room service. It's Shields from the Aria Suite. Can you deliver a lamp to the suite?"
A momentary pause.
"What do you mean you don't have lamps for room service?
Another momentary pause.
"People don't normally ask for lamps? What kind of men are you serving?"
Both men of inconsistent tempers, the phone dial was a solitary noise amongst the silence, and with silence, the pitch darkness was its companion. With nothing to do under the blind blanket of night, his composure slumped against the bed pillows, another soul visiting the brief nirvana, the land of Nod, where lanterns were valued as objects of service and teasing virgins such as his little kitten offered herself completely. Of course, the world and slumber were opposites in existence, one of reality, and the other fantasy.
***
A/N: How do you like? I get more insane by the minute! Next chapter involves birds; that's all I can say. I think, maybe not. But in the end, everything is about birds. Of course, d'oh. Well, in some terms, even it is glorious summer vacation, the heat wave my town's been getting is so . . . GRR! I'm sweating at night, in the morning, in the afternoon, in the toilet, next to the fridge, everywhere! Even my beloved computer is no safe haven from the heat. So I try to type as much as I can, but I'm always so slow, and I write my chapters on paper first, and then edit it on the computer, and then retype it again, so DON'T EXPECT THE NEXT CHAPTER UNTIL NEXT, NEXT WEEK . . . OR MAYBE SOMETIME NEXT WEEK! So, please, have some faith towards me. You know you wuv me.
Chao, Babes!
Love Lots, Nikki Miyawaza, or Ikki
Disclaimer: Do you really want me to say the dread words that every fanfic writer loathes to say? Fine, I'll say it. I really do shave my legs. Or was it, "I really wuv my legs?" But honestly, I DO wuv my legs. Sailor Moon, Ruruouni Kenshin does not belong to me, but the doorman who cusses at least once in the other chapter does. He's my part-time plumber. You don't know what my pet crocodile puts in the toilet!!! His name is "Snooger."
A/N: MUY IMPORTANT! POR FAVOR, READ!
{blah, blah} represents Darien's Amusing Thoughts. [blah, blah] represents Serena's Amusing Thoughts.
And, Darien's character might be a wittle conceited, but it's one of his character flaws, and that's what fits in his description as the rich and famous.
Chapter II: The Second Floor
***
And there, as if some adorable caterpillar in the blossoming stage to beauty with wings, lies the goddess he found bewitching on top of his boxers. Her situation made the humanity in her immortal beauty evident, however she still captivated him with her charming wit and innocence. Closer, he could see the hue of her eyes, the most iridescent shade of azure, like being enveloped in the rebirth of nature, spring skies overhead, and the refreshing impact she had upon him.
"Care to explain why you are wrapped in my comforter, and your face is in my underwear?"
Darien expected a submissive, timid reply, considering her status as a chambermaid and lower-class, yet somehow, he receive no bashful replies, but a sarcastic remark.
"You know, I'd love to tell you why my face is in your underwear. But I'm a little preoccupied right now. Being wrapped in satin is a fine way to spend your time, but I think I need to do my job now, so would you mind getting me out of here!?!"
As the last words were said, a bit too headstrong for his tastes, Darien entangled the tiny kitten in caterpillar incognito without the least bit consent for the girl inside the padded comforters, sending Serena in a sore fit about her bruised bum. Patting it ever so gently, this action allowed Darien to see a very satisfying sight of her well-endowed butt.
"Ohh, I hate my butt."
"Now, don't hate something that . . . magnificent."
Insulted, the kitten with rather sharp claws that came with that mouth gave Darien a devastating glare. Then, she gave him the cold shoulder, gathering the satin comforters in her grip, in attempt to make the bed.
However, the surgeons disliked her distance that emitted from her anger towards their first impression. Startling her into her frozen state of body, his strong arms gathered her petite figure into a loving embrace, meant for sexually teasing, not a sign of affection, and with those limbs came his chin upon the juncture where her shoulder and neck meets. His breath was spider-like fingers upon her skin, and with every breath he took, she gave the tantalizing response of closed eyes and a shiver across the length of her spine.
"Mewl." Her sudden purr caused both parties to stiffen, one surprised and embarrassed, the other brimming in testosterone and male-pride.
Already, Serena could feel his arrogant smile hidden in her skin, but could only concentrate on the pooling of sparks in her lower abdomen. Never had she felt this way with any man. Never was she this sexually frustrated. However, Darien wasn't in a better condition. Her slight responses caused him to groan in frustration, which instead of seducing her into submission, it back-stabbed him ruthlessly.
Never had the playboy doctor desired to take any woman without thought or control as he needed with this beautiful chambermaid. Never would he take his own pleasure before hers, but all Darien could fantasize was drowning in her warmth, repeatedly in the stark hours at night and the dawning minutes of morning.
"I . . . d-don't th-think . . . you sh-should . . . d-do th-that." Was her primary weak response.
"But you should get angry with me, my little kitten. Please forgive me." With every word spoken, his lips trailed her skin, starting from the baby- soft areas of her collarbone to the feathery skin on her ear, leathery and insatiable. He took in her scent, for it flooded his senses, ransoming his self-control and leaving the man vulnerable to her spellbound. French vanilla.
His tongue could not resist from tasting the soft skin on her velvet ears, which Serena gave her response with an "EEP." The lips were tingling from temptation, brushing against her ears when he spoke.
"I won't tell. Unless, a deal is made between you and me."
{Why the HELL do I want this deal anyway? It isn't human to ask a stranger to be your companion. It isn't human to have this familiarity with someone whose face you've never encountered until today, and to feel sudden protection and emotional vulnerability towards this one individual. Then why am I acting outside the human boundaries?}
However, despite his mind debating against his heart, the flaxen-haired pixie left her presence everywhere upon his skin. All that he could perceive was her alluring scent, that wonderful, sarcastic grin, and her aloof sensuality. She was everywhere on his skin. He could smell her, taste her, and then, Darien knew that he could not afford to lose this treasure within his grasp. If only he could slate his thirsts for this bewitching siren enough, in bed and in life, if only he can envelope himself in her precious warmth enough, then the naive playboy could merely walk away, satisfied for the rest of his pitiful life. So this he thought . . .
At this, the young chambermaid turned swiftly to face the towering 6'5, squarely and intimidating as if she was much taller than he. She took her feminine wrist, swung it back, and punched him firmly on his cheek. However surprised, Darien did not falter, merely looking down upon the tiny kitten with wide eyes. He, in the many years he's existed as Darien Shields, has been punched by any man or woman on the living earth. And yet, this little woman-girl somehow gave him his first punch.
"If you ever think I'm going to act as your little dirty whore, think again, asshole! Just because you are wealthy and good-looking, doesn't mean I'll submit to you, losing dignity and the only integrity in this whole fucking world."
Still immobile was his eyes staring bewildered at the ranting chambermaid goddess, until he threw his head back and laughed whole-heartedly. To the tiny chambermaid, it was a marvelous sight, the epitome of genuine maleness and beauty becoming one man, one body of superior greatness. May she gawk or drool over such a sight, but men with these looks only come once in the bluest moon. Unknowingly, she took a brief look at the moon. It was an ordinary lunarian sight, nothing blue about it.
Once his laughter was quenched, his arms once again appeared, circling her waist, which was the envy of all women, for it was small and curved, fitting in the mass of his hands.
"Dear kitten, I don't want you to be my whore, per se. I am in need of a companion, someone who I can have conversations with and enjoy my evening in her presence. Maybe a few kisses here and there. If you want to be my mistress, then it will be your move, for I won't touch you. Though it might kill me in the end. Unlike your popular belief, others do hold some integrity in them."
It was then Serena gazed up at him with skeptical eyes. [Is this guy for real?]
"What makes you think I want to be your companion?"
{Excellent question. What makes her want to be my companion? Except I'm beautiful and wealthy and charming . . . }
"You can have anything you desire, within boundaries." [Anything I desire? Is this what God sent me from heaven to relieve my hospital payments? Couldn't he just send me a brick of $20K falling from the sky, falling on my head, and sending me into a temporary comatose? It would have been easier.]
"Anything? Does that mean I can have $20K before next week?"
"Would you like to tell me why?"
"Not really. So I wouldn't mind it if you just gave the money. But there is a few exceptions. Number one: You are allowed to do anything with me that doesn't concern murder, killing, anything illegal, lying, cheating, and sex."
"You sure you don't want to consider the last one?"
"Damn bastard."
"No, my mother was married before she had me. And one more exception, you call me master, my little kitten."
Serena gave him a stare, trying to find some sanity left within this demented guest. How within 30 minutes, she became the companion of some conceited, witty bachelor with looks to spare.
"Don't think so, pig."
Then at the final words spoken at "pig," his lips descended down to her tiny brush-stroked lips, as if they were painted in some celestial portrait, succeeding in what no man has ventured off before. Into the spell- binding web that he conjured for the tiny miss in attempt to slate his insatiable lust that traveled his veins, causing him to an almost devastating shake. The presumptuous playboy was shaking, and somehow it was as if he became the victim to his own deceit.
Her taste was unlike any other maiden that graced his path, strutting their well-endowed goods as if some prize to feast upon. It was of innocence and pure grace, and this caused him to envelope himself into her warmth, deeper. Stroking tenderly, there was no urgency in this kiss, no indifferent lust that came fast and overwhelming. Yet, has there been any other man who took her as he did?
Such a thought commanded that devilish lips of his to become passionate fires of fury, demanding and passionate, as if the very idea had brought incontrollable rage into his life. Who could touch her, taste her entire innocence without corrupting the vestal virgin within? Even a man like himself, could taint, could shatter that fragile porcelain this perfection was created from.
"Just sampling a taste, is all."
Under lust filled eyelids, she stared in a stupor over the occurrences that took place before.
"No-no. It will be your first and last taste. No kisses."
In attempt to control the boiling rage under his protected emotions, he muffled his near-escaping growl.
"Are you sure?"
It took within a few moments for her response to come, as if she was heavied by doubt and temptation. Her skepticism got better of her however, to his downfall.
"Yes, sir. I'm a companion, and not a whore as you say."
{How dare she defy me? Me?!?! Of all people?}
With her final word, he watched as she took uneven steps to the door and closed her passageway to my room. It was then Darien could unleash the building anger and lust in his system, throwing his lantern out the window, clearly not in the mental process of life without a light. His head rested, partly from exhaustion, on the soft satins of the bed, while his hands were unrestless, disfiguring the cloth in the fist of his hand. Pants uneven and rugged.
{I will make her come to me. And when I do, she will be the one begging for my touch, then and there, will she know who is her master.}
When senses came to him, he called room service,
"Err, room service. It's Shields from the Aria Suite. Can you deliver a lamp to the suite?"
A momentary pause.
"What do you mean you don't have lamps for room service?
Another momentary pause.
"People don't normally ask for lamps? What kind of men are you serving?"
Both men of inconsistent tempers, the phone dial was a solitary noise amongst the silence, and with silence, the pitch darkness was its companion. With nothing to do under the blind blanket of night, his composure slumped against the bed pillows, another soul visiting the brief nirvana, the land of Nod, where lanterns were valued as objects of service and teasing virgins such as his little kitten offered herself completely. Of course, the world and slumber were opposites in existence, one of reality, and the other fantasy.
***
A/N: How do you like? I get more insane by the minute! Next chapter involves birds; that's all I can say. I think, maybe not. But in the end, everything is about birds. Of course, d'oh. Well, in some terms, even it is glorious summer vacation, the heat wave my town's been getting is so . . . GRR! I'm sweating at night, in the morning, in the afternoon, in the toilet, next to the fridge, everywhere! Even my beloved computer is no safe haven from the heat. So I try to type as much as I can, but I'm always so slow, and I write my chapters on paper first, and then edit it on the computer, and then retype it again, so DON'T EXPECT THE NEXT CHAPTER UNTIL NEXT, NEXT WEEK . . . OR MAYBE SOMETIME NEXT WEEK! So, please, have some faith towards me. You know you wuv me.
Chao, Babes!
Love Lots, Nikki Miyawaza, or Ikki
