Sacrosanct contains four distinct neighborhoods, each with their own specific kind of houses and residents. Explore our districts, view lists of our citizens and enjoy our block parties!
Situated above the daily life of the city, Anacosta Heights is a tucked away suburb featuring extravagant neo-gothic inspired mansions. The inhabitants of this neighborhood often show their overwhelming wealth with sports cars lining their long, circular driveways, large pools, and manicured gardens. The homeowners of Anacosta Heights treasure their privacy as seen by the high iron gates to the security personnel present at every entrance.
Dupont Circle is a small suburban neighborhood settled within the serene portion of the southern portion of town. These four-bedroom, single-family homes feature back yards, porches, garages, and far more breathing space then the Village offers. This neighborhood often is more family orientated and even has organized events for children and the neighborhood as a whole.
Settled in the middle of downtown, Hawthorn Village consists of several victorian inspired row houses just off the main street. Due to it's convenience to just about everything, the village can be a tad expensive to live within. However, the residents of this neighborhood often have two to three-story townhouses, often with a one to two-car garage. Many of the houses feature bay windows and/or rooftop terraces with a small fenced-in 'yard'.
River Dale primarily consists of apartments that, despite their age and industrial appearing interior, still hold to the Victorian history that permeates the town. These apartments are often the cheapest option and sport scuffed, older wooden floors, open floor plans, visible beams, and the occasional brick wall.
no matter where you go, I'll find you
How surely he should have anticipated her actions and yet, perhaps, his mind had became a little hazy beneath that fog of lust. For all that composure he so strove to retain in near all he did- Matteo could hardly deny how very much he wanted Harley in that moment. Her flawless, femanine figure was an exquisite sight. The firelight threw its heated shadows across each line and swell and sweet curve. Her skin was silken beneath his fingertips and the taste of her upon his lips and tongue was nothing short of addictive in turn. A desire he had no intention of denying himself even if he had promised her he so intended to take it slow. To savour her as she deserved to be savoured. How certain he was that the those who had come before him had been far too taken with that act itself to truly appreciate what they had before them. To appreciate her. Harley. For all she was in every sense. How curious he was to see what other sounds he could coax from her in this game they had taken to an entirely new place. To see in what other ways he might play her figure like an instrument he was all to willing to learn. Ah, but how he had near forgotten her own devilish intentions. The fashion in which her legged hooked agianst him gave away her intent and yet his own mind was perhaps a second too slow to truly realise it as she rolled their figures. Her own femanine form not perched atop him as his bare back was pressed into the soft mattress beneath. How distinctly pleased she seemed of her victory. That pleasure, so intermingled with her satisfaction at his own hands having coaxed a warm simper to her lips, one that was mirrored upon his own as she insisted he had far too much clothing on. How very right she was.
Matteo's own hips shifted near obediently to allow her slender fingers to grasp the waistband of his jeans and boxer shorts before she neatly slid them from his figure. The near ancient Fae could hardly prevent that sigh of satisfaction that came from finally freeing the hardened length of his figure from beneath that restricting denim. His groin ached with that want for satisfaction. Just how much he desired Harley, in every fashion, was utterly undeniable now as Harley, in turn, seemed to allow her eyes to rove over his figure. Much as he had done before. Matteo, for several moments longer, was near content to remain nestled upon that soft mattress, as if allowing her eyes to freely observe as they desired. His toned, fit figure was so rarely....offered so freely to another and yet it was lower down, toward his groin, that her violet gaze seemed to linger. Matteo's own silver gaze shifted upward in a near silent question- as if the Frenchman anticipated some judgement from her upon that which she saw. Ah, how Harley so never disappointed! The young woman insisted that she had been wrong before. That no part of him was small. The deep chuckle that rose within the depths of his throat hummed near smoothly from his lips. Matteo unable to prevent the grin that found his features at such a declaration as that. How surely she could lay with him any time she liked if she intended to offer those sort of compliments. Perhaps he was near two thousand years old and yet- what man did not enjoy just that sort of assurance? As if his very ego had needed such stroking. That confidence seemed to cling entirely to the Frenchman regardless of what went on around him. Ho Alexander had so often berated it for him in his younger years before coming to realise that such a thing was simply....Matteo. In every way.
The very insinuation of Harley's next words however was so hardly missed and yet- whatever answer he might have offered was all but swallowed back as her hand, at last, found that hardened length. Her initial touch prompted a near sharp intake of breath. That intimate part of himself decidedly sensitive to her touch- and gloriously responsive all at once. Those tender, sweet strokes of her hand so seeming to coax all the more hardness to his figure until the ache within his groin was all consuming. Matteo was unable to suppress that moan that left him then. How he adored her touch. Right where he desired it most. Her voice held a different note in those heated moments. A smoky, sultriness he doubted even she was truly aware of and yet it was nothing short of...arousing. Her fingers continued their glorious, blissful stroking. Harley undeniably more skilled at this then he had truly anticipated she might be and yet how he hardly found he minded. His hips shifted instinctively- automatically seeking only more of that glorious friction she offered. He wanted more. Needed more. The young woman atop him was finally beginning to unravel those threads of control he kept so tightly concealed. And how well she seemed to know it. Her hand slowly ceased its action as her figure slid upward to straddle him, offering only more of herself and yet lingering just out of reach. Such a devil she was! Those very words uttered smoothly from his lips. How had his game so effortlessly become her own? How few beings, men or women, had ever managed such a thing with him.
Matteo could hardly hide the unsteadiness to his own breath, that want so painfully clear as Harley insisted that a devil within the bedroom was so hardly a bad thing. Ah, how right she surely was! His lips found her own eagerly. The Frenchman hungry for that taste of her once more, any further words she might have added were all but stolen from her as he drew her lower lip between his own, his teeth brushing agianst that gloriously sensitive flesh, drawing her mind onto him entirely as his arms wrapped up and around her figure. He drew her closer. That feeling of skin on skin was exquisite, how much he desired more and yet- not like this. It was effortless to roll their figures. Harley once more pinned smoothly beneath him. That control his own again. His fingers interwove with her own, lifting her hands above her head. That control was...arousing to him and yet- it always had been. Harley so entirely his own for the taking as she lay beneath him, her dark hair near akin to an ebony halo as it rested about her head. Matteo unable to prevent that impish gleam that found his features as a grumble huffed from her own lips. Surely- she didn't think she had won so easily did she? Not when he had played such a game as this for so very, very long. Ah, but how certain he was that he had won. Those very words were uttered near sweetly agianst her lips as his knee nudged gently at her thigh, prompting her to part her legs for him as his eyes found her own. How he had anticipated her retort- and how determined he was to steal those breathless words from her.
His lips seized her own in a wholly heated, passionate kiss as his hips rolled forward within the same moment to enter her. That gasp upon her lips at his entry was lost within that very kiss. Her body was....glorious. Each smooth, firm thrust only pressed him further into the warm, tightness of her figure until he had sheathed himself entirely within her. Her body near eagerly adjusting to him and yet gripping him firmly all at once in that heavily embrace. Matteo stilled for bit a moment, affording Harley that time to become accustomed to this, to him, before that desire to move became far too urgent. One hand released her own to slide down her figure, to momentarily cup at her butt before settling at her hip- encouraging her, daring her perhaps, to keep pace with that rhythm he had set. Each rolling thrust extenuated that pleasure, exploring those depths of her figure and all it had to offer. She felt incredible beneath and around him. Those waves of pleasure prompted several soft groans from within him as she eagerly strove to match his pace. Those sounds that fell from Harley's lips so readily matched his own. Matteo so expertly sough to find just where and how she required that pressure, that movement, that depth, to prompt the most satisfying of responses from her figure. How utterly....perfect sex could be when done well. When done right. When done like this. Those pleasures were depthess, boundless. Harley was an exquisite partner in every sense. His own near breathless words offered that very compliment, the Frenchman uttering that translation a moment later. His accent distinctly thicker in those moments. She might let him win? How sure he was that he already had.
Those teasing words she uttered were almost missed, the smirk upon her lips so momentarily prompting his attention. Surely she did not mean to-. Matteo found his body rolled once more. Harley yet again taking that top position and the control he had only moments ago exacted over her. Her hips hardly broke that rhythm as her hand released his own to press agianst his chest, her fingers pressing into his skin as the newfound depth that change in position offered them both but an entirely new wave of pleasure.
"Tu es quelque chose ... je n'ai pas vu venir." (You are something...I did not see coming.)
Those words were breathless, a soft utterance agianst her lips as she took his lower lips between her own, Matteo so effortlessly returning that kiss. Those words....far more then he ever offered so many others. There was little in this world, after all, that he did not anticipate and yet how he had failed to properly anticipate her- in the best of ways. Tonight however, he offered no translation. His mind, here and now, having all but forgotten that English entirely as she pressed agianst his chest, raising herself from him, hovering upon the mere tip of his figure when he craved far, far more. How dangerously close she trod upon the thin edge of his control! As if she dared him, even now, to seize back that control. Losing, she insisted, was not so very bad, when it felt so very good. How close he was to allowing a near whimper of want to leave his lips! A sound he so barely managed to suppress. Little outside that bedroom existed in that moment. Yet perhaps there was one final move to be had. A veritable daring act of play that might satisfy them both. That desire to thrust upward and into her was...overwhelming and yet- his eyes met her own in that moment. Matteo firmly griped that single and final thread of control he possessed.
"Do you trust me, Mon Cherie?"
Those words were a breathless whisper and yet how potent they were. That very phrase, after all, had been shared between them so often. Matteo's gaze in that moment so hardly shifting from Harley's own until she uttered that assurance. His own form shifted a final time. The Frenchman shifting ever so slightly away from Harley's figure only to sit upright upon that bed before drawing her back towards him.
"Kneel over me, one knee either side, facing me, Oui, like that. Now bring yourself down and into my lap and onto me. Wrap your arms around my neck."
Matteo's hand reached to take hold of himself, guiding that hardened length into her as she lowered herself into his lap. The depth this position afforded them both was....incredible. Matteo unable to help that groan that left him once more. That position so offered a distinct closeness and intimacy in turn- one on an even playing field. Perhaps they might simply....lose together. Matteo's own hips shifted once more, encouraging Harley to find that rhythm again, that pace so distinctly within her control and yet that position afforded him his own command, his hands distinctly free to rove up her figure, his thumbs expertly finding those hardened peaks of her nipples as his lips found her own in a heated, demanding kiss. One that so surely insisted that pleasure could be ignored no longer as Harley's figure tigethend inexplicably around his own with each ardent thrust. The pleasurable peak so perfectly within reach. Missionary man, ha! If only she knew but all he was capable of.....