Every Night For Eternity [18+] ✔

*

He's out there, outside her window, feeling the warm air as it flowed through his coat and silk shirt and softly caressed his skin. The moon highlighted pale skin and the white hair of his forearm; it revealed soft, striking blue eyes sheltered under long eyelashes and dark brows; it shone on his hair, a shade no less than black, tied back in ponytail that fell smooth and straight down the middle of his back. He's waiting, waiting outside her window for a perfect breeze.

It came, whipping up his trench coat, knee length and elaborately embroidered in dark violet and crimson velvet, and the soft, white curtains strung up about her window; as quick as the wind arrived he was inside, landing his black leather boots with a barely audible click.

Assessing his surroundings he found himself in the fair company of luxurious furnishings; the trimmings on the chair at the vanity expertly carved and upon the wall a painting of the Renaissance, one he himself might have seen painted.

His ears listened for sounds down the hall, but the stillness assured him that all were asleep, even the evening servants.

He sunk into the shadows beyond the moonlight, only his smile catching the brilliant light as he studied her, not breathing, not beating, not blinking; staring in silence at his passion, his pleasure, his prey.

Her eyes snapped open and rolled around in their sockets. She had heard something, she knew she had, she must have. Her ears pulled back and listened intently, but nothing in the night moved. She heard the soothing sound of the wind whipping over the forest below outside her window. The satin sheets resting over her naked flesh rustled and brushed against her, tickling her lightly, driving her back to sleep. Nothing. It was nothing.

He sensed it; she had woken and was now skirting the edge of dreaming once again, so he rushed forward, at her bedside before the curtains could fall back into place. She was faced away from him and he reached out and stroked her back with the tips of his fingers until he heard a gasp from the other side of the pillow. Her chest began to heave, her nipples hardening as she rolled over to face her molester.

She looked up, terrified of finding a scuffed up convict or some masked stranger standing above her, sharp blade held ready, glinting with sanguine hunger in the light of the moon; instead she found a striking, bright white face staring at her longingly from above dark, elaborate dress. No blade, she felt better, if only slightly. His hand moved from her back to her side, resting just below her breast, as he locked eyes with her. Almost instantly, and with a great ease that frightened her, she felt a tingle in her stomach and released her fear. His eyes told her that she desired him.

She felt her lips part as his hand moved up her breast, his thumb passing over her pastel pink areola and onto her stiff nipple, beginning to rub her gently.



His thumb drew circles around her nipple, and his fingers began to play with it, rolling it playfully back and forth, and tugging on it slightly; his long fingernails dragged over them, causing her to close her eyes and breathe deep, even as his palm flattened against her chest and began to squeeze her whole breast, pulling it between his fingers, and bringing it up to his mouth, where he sucked it in and let it slide back out with a pop. He brought his head down and planted little kisses all over her two bountiful mounds, lashing his tongue against them, eliciting faster and harder breathing from her.

His tongue ran circles around her nipples, sucking them into his mouth, his teeth playing on them, biting them, pulling them; she felt warmth between her legs and the moistness begin to build when he stopped without warning.

He looked down at her, a bit of saliva caught on his lip as he rose up. He closed his lips tightly together and smiled, and then lowered again, this time to her lips as he kissed her tenderly. Her tongue parted his lips and met with his tongue and they danced inside each other's mouths until she ceased to move. Her lips grew tight around his and the muscles in her body tensed as her tongue slowly traced its way along his front teeth, feeling the rounded edge of his incisors, and then the protruding, razor length of his canines. She licked the tip of it and felt her tongue begin to bleed. He lost control and sucked her tongue deep into her mouth tasting the blood and shivering as it coated his throat. She pressed away from him and he let her fall back against the mattress, curling her sheets up around her.