Claire was back in Amelie's office yet again.
It had become quite familiar to her now, the oversized, carved desk, the plush rug that you sunk almost an inch into, the matching ivory chairs in front of a looming fireplace, that windows tinted almost black to block out those harmful rays of sunshine—it was large and ostentatious and very Amelie.
The woman herself who occupied this office was small and slight and looked like carved marble with flashing eyes of ice. Those eyes were sometimes friendly, glittering with amusement, sometimes glowing red with anger, sometimes luminous and secretive, and always cold, cold, cold. Claire was quite accustomed to her cool gaze.
"Whatever deal my Oliver has offered to you, I will offer you the same," Amelie said, tone frosty.
"You couldn't possibly offer the same deal that Oliver gave me," Claire responded with a slight smirk.
"And why ever not?" Amelie asked, one silver eyebrow raised.
Claire swallowed and felt her cheeks redden every so slightly, "Because Oliver offered to fuck me."
Amelie inhaled sharply. Claire had seen a lot of expressions cross those pale features, but shock wasn't a common one. Amelie was genuinely appalled.
"He offered to…" she didn't finish her sentence, but turned her gaze away, shifting in her seat, looking uncomfortable.
"Fuck me, yes." Claire reminded herself to not squirm and to maintain eye contact.
"Well, that is…unfortunate." Amelie regained composure and sent a stiff smile toward Claire, folding her hands in front of her. "I'm afraid that you would be right, I cannot offer precisely that to you." She paused briefly before rising from her chair, and began to walk around her desk, eyes still on Claire and fingers trailing across the wooden surface. "However," Amelie once again paused, gaze darting down then back up, "I do have certain, talents, let's say, and we could come to an arrangement on this matter." She finished her circling and stood in front of Claire, leaning back against her desk.
Claire almost wanted to laugh—was Amelie really that desperate to keep her away from Oliver? Yet, there was something about this situation that was… No, Claire shook her head. "You don't understand."
"And what is it that I precisely do not understand, child?" Amelie responded, once again arching her brows.
"It's the kind of fucking he's offering. You couldn't do that, couldn't be that." Claire forgot that she was supposed to be strong and make eye contact, and she fidgeted in her seat. Was she really going to try and explain this?
"Be what?" Amelie asked. She looked annoyed now.
"Um, a dom," Claire responded, still looking away.
"A what?"
"A dom. A dominant." Claire sighed and fidgeted even more with impatience. "It's like this…vibe…I guess, and some people have it and they can do it and some people don't and they can't and they're just faking it." Claire raised her brown eyes to meet Amelie's icy orbs, "And you couldn't do it. You couldn't dominate me. I could never give in to you."
Amelie laughed, head leaning back, teeth showing, and it sounded like glass shattering. Claire winced.
Amelie's gaze turned hard and frigid and she grasped Claire's chin in her hand, "I am the strongest of my kind, I control them, I dominate all of them. And everyone else in my town."
Claire gulped and bit her lip. "I can prove it."
Slowly she stood up until she was looking down at Amelie. Even with her ever-present pumps, Amelie was just small. Claire moved to the side slightly, not breaking eye contact, and pointed at the chair she had just been occupying, "Sit."
Amelie raised one frosted eyebrow.
"Sit." Claire's voice was level and strong.
Amelie hesitated and than sat in one fluid motion, doing so more from curiosity than a desire to obey the mortal giving her orders.
Claire moved in front of her, heart beginning to race and her breathing getting more erratic. Staring at Amelie, Claire slowly sank to her knees in front of her, her gaze turning soft and sultry. Amelie breathed in slowly and her eyes took on a dark glint, her legs which had been firmly pressed together parted just slightly. Claire took that as her invitation to continue and leaned forward to press one light kiss against Amelie's knee. She could hear Amelie inhale a strangled breath, and her fingers twitched as if seeking out Claire's face.
She smiled and reached forward, pushing Amelie's legs apart and nuzzled her head against her thigh, and began trailing soft, warm kisses upwards, using her other hand to trace a pattern up her leg, fingers so slightly gliding over. Amelie's head fell back against the chair, a quiet moan falling from parted lips, and her hands clenched the chair's arms so tightly Claire could hear the wood crack.
Continuing her pattern, Claire reached further and of course Amelie wasn't just wearing normal stockings, but fucking garters, and Claire groaned partially because that was unbelievably hot and partially because she had not a clue how to get them off and then decided the best course of action was just to grab, hooking her fingers over the tops of soft, nude stockings and dragging down as hard she could. The thin material tore with a ripping sound and Amelie gasped, one hand flying to cradle Claire's head, fingers twisting into auburn hair, knees instinctively closing. Claire bit back a smile and pushed them back apart, not pausing before pulling down white underwear, down over white heels—which were left on—and pushing up one white skirt until it was bunched around Amelie's waist and all of her was bare and open.
Claire slid both hands the slowly up the older woman's thighs, all the way up, and massaged circles over the tops of her hips with her thumbs, while gently blowing against her folds. Giving once last glance upwards to see her eyes glazed over with pleasure, Claire bent forward placing her mouth against the wetness before her, tasting the sweetness of her desire in the most intimate of kisses. Claire's tongue began to work in slow, even circles against Amelie's clit, and one hand slid down, working first one finger and then two inside of her. Amelie whined and gripped even harder, urging Claire on.
She continued to lap and suck, fingers twisting and curving inside until the Founder came hard, moans slipping out of parted lips and her walls shuddering against Claire's fingers.
Without a pause to allow Amelie to enjoy the aftershocks of her orgasm, Claire pulled out from her and slapped Amelie hard across the face, "Did I tell you, you could come?"
Amelie glared at her, eyes glinting red and fangs snapping into place. "What?" She looked angry and confused. Claire also noted that she looked adorable with her hair falling out of place, out of breath, and a strangely human glow to her cheeks.
Claire repeated herself slowly, "Did I tell you…you could come?"
"No?" Amelie said it as more a question than an answer.
"Right. I didn't. And now I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you," Claire said with pursed lips. Amelie raised those eyebrows again. "Open."
Amelie didn't move, but looked even more confused.
"Open your mouth," Claire said assertively and Amelie slowly, and a bit unsurely, opened her mouth.
"Now stick your tongue out." Amelie did as she was told, eyes burning.
Claire reached behind her neck and undid the clasps to the silver cross necklace she was wearing. The one that Shane had given her and the one that she never took off. Claire rose up on her knees and dangling the jewelry above Amelie's head, slowly began to lower it until the pendent was touching her tongue. Amelie squirmed slightly, but otherwise didn't move or pull back, and Claire continued to lower the necklace until all of it was resting in her mouth. The silver wasn't fully burning her yet, but slight tendrils of smoke were rising from where the metal touched skin.
"Now close." Amelie's eyes flashed, and she looked as if she thought Claire insane, but she didn't protest and she closed her mouth, holding the necklace inside her. It had to have hurt, but Amelie gave no sign of her pain.
"Good girl."
Claire leaned forward and once again continued her ministrations, but this time at a faster pace, and she could feel Amelie shaking from a combination of pain and pleasure. Expertly using her fingers, she brought Amelie closer and closer to orgasm, until the blonde was writhing beneath her, hips bucking, eyes silently pleading, whimpering.
"You may come." And Amelie did, even harder than the first time and longer, and her whines turned into moans of pleasure. As she finished, she went to remove the silver from her mouth but Claire shook her head. "Wait."
And then Claire stood before her and smiled seductively before slowly unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them down her legs, stepping out and tossing them to the side. Staring into the Founder's eyes, Claire placed one hand atop her head and said, "Come, kneel before me."
Amelie inhaled and hesitated before slowly sliding down off the chair and resting at Claire's feet, hands resting on her thighs, staring upward and waiting. Claire slowly trailed one finger down the length of Amelie's face, smiling, and cupped her chin in the same fashion that Amelie had done so not long before. "Little Founder. Little Amelie. Open your mouth now."
Amelie did so and winced from the movement and when she opened her mouth the inside was inflamed, and her tongue was black from the parts where the silver had been in direct contact. "Did that hurt, little Founder?" Amelie shook her head yes.
"Good." Claire reached and pulled the necklace out from Amelie's ruined mouth and placed it on the desk behind her. She grabbed the letter opener from amidst the neat piles of papers and turned back around to face Amelie.
With one hand resting against Amelie's cheek, Claire took the other holding the opener and pressed against the inside of thigh, dragging the sharp blade in a diagonal line upwards until a thin trail of blood poured forth from the markings. Claire guided Amelie's head to the wound, "Drink. I give it to you freely."
Amelie's tongue darted out and licked at the blood, pulling every drop out that she could before her arms went to encircle Claire's waist and leg, pulling her against her mouth, and she bit down hard, causing Claire to cry out. They stayed like that for a moment until Amelie healed, and then she sat back, looking up at Claire, waiting, crimson liquid coloring her lips and trailing down her chin.
Claire smiled. Maybe this was a sweeter deal than the one Oliver offered.