out for blood
she's somethin' so cold-blooded with
a deep killer instinct
Darcy slept like the dead. The man did not budge a muscle even the slightest involuntary movement in that death like sleep. Had she truly exhausted him that much the night before? Oh how she knew that to be true, it was almost a pity how those wicked marks from that play hardly lingered upon his body, her pale eyes seemed to wander across his exposed pale skin that lay taut over his muscular physique. It was rare being awake so much earlier than him and yet the woman took clear advantage in preening her proverbial feathers. The woman groomed as thoroughly as one of her feline's pristine fur, perhaps more. There was not so much a singular stray hair out of place upon her head, as her lips and features, along with that attire brought to a sinful perfection. Now, that outfit she had chosen was by no means her usual attire, but she was pleased how those buttery jeans seemed to cling to her figure even though she was used to the feel of her own bare skin. By the time she was done and that photograph was sent, nothing more but wicked little taunt for that evening. All to push him further into her own whims rather than that deal made those months ago upon that cursed southern trip. She returned to the bed expecting Darcy to at least begin to stir only to find him in the same peaceful state as before. No that won't do. She could not help but wonder if she looked like that? A thought she had never given much consideration until this moment that seemed to nag upon those concealed threads within her, fortunately a fleeting thought as her desire to awake him bloomed to the forefront of her mind. That ploy to use his body she played like it should, to catch the man unaware in that peaceful slumber.... To rise into a wicked dream he would not want to awake from.. or so she thought. How she enjoyed the way his skin reacted to her skillful touches and coaxing movements.
She could feel his lurking awakeness just beneath the surface within the peaceful depths of that silent room, as if it were not a room her harboured such nefarious beings. She would have never suspected their living arrangements would work as they had, both beings terribly territorial. Especially during the lockdown and the more the pair had spent together... it was a wonder that Darcy still stood. Shattering the odds yet again. She had hardly spent much time considering such things, her thought was... wholly upon her wicked persuasion. One that... he had been far too trained for, as unintentionally as it was. His body and mind conditioned to withstand whatever she had focused upon him. How she plucked those chords of desire, that grew more insistent the more he fought to cling to sleep. It was when the first flutter of his eyes, she knew she had him as she purred into his ear. Her words even though so feather soft are laced in a pressing command that mirrored her kiss. She moved with the same purpose as before, continuing her sensual assault as he willingly tumbled into defeat. Although, she was quite certain she would not lose. It was with that kiss pressed in the spot she normally grazed with her fangs, that very spot she knew made him react prompted that first true breath of the day, a sharp sound torn from him. Ah, that worked far too well.
He was careful. So careful to listen and obey to her reprimand to keep his hands upon that bed. Exactly as she had trained him to be... obedient and submissive only to her. Yet today he would seek to take his own control. If only for a moment. It was the sweet sound of his groan that echoed his fate that rested within her skilled assault. It almost wasn't fair and yet Risque was never one to play... completely fair. This loophole was one she intended to utilize, offering him all the rope to hang himself with. That devilish woman could practically feel victory, containing this erotic dance upon her terms as usual. The move of her hips, her lips, her touch.. It was all equally demanding and persistent.
That sound of her name from his lips, caused a sound within her throat, a hum, a rich purr of devilish satisfaction against his skin. It did little to stop the pleasurable torturing of his senses, her lips and fangs claiming his body in a descending trail, bending him to her will. She enjoys how receptive he was, so finely tuned like an instrument only she could play. She enjoyed that reactive involuntary way his skin seemed to quiver with every well placed prick of her fangs, or the sound of pleasure she all but plucked from him with ease.Those sinful words escape her as her hands trail lower that her lush lips that hovered upon his hip, tht perfect little notch a perfect place to place her ownership, her fangs desiring to sink into that waiting skin. She should have kept going... she should have peeled the last remaining fabric from his own figure.. But she had gotten far too arrogant.
He was slow to recognize that duplicitous web which ensnared her lover as she swept him up like the sea.. in the tide of that roaring blissful want that assaulted him. That recognition was slow to ignite within her lover, those cursedly cunning unique eyes peered down along the length of his body to where she rested. That lucid needle poked within his desire-filled gaze before his words assaulted her. He was ready, his body clearly wanting it even bled within his southern twang.
Her lip curled just so, a dangerous place to be as that recognition settled within her. What? Even she could not believe the words she was hearing from her undead cowboys cursed lips. He was rejecting her?
Now she was not anticipating that little twist of events. He did not reject her. A frustrated growl escaped as he leaned upward, his lips pressed into her own, his own fangs almost dared to prick the paper thin skin of her lips. How close those daring fangs were to doing just that, but he was so very practiced in navigating that very line. She seemed almost perplexed by his own denial. What an odd.... Feeling. One she had never felt before. Had she just been outplayed? Never. She refused to believe it. Ah Darcy pieced together the puzzle of her twisted intentions at the last moment.. and yet could she have not.... Pushed further? Was some part of her... as buried as it was curious to see what he could do if only given the opportunity? Her undead cowboy was entirely too clever for his own good, or had she sabotaged herself in giving him that option. Had she in fact truly given him the final set up to offer him that chance?
Perhaps, she should make him eat those very words. Before she could utter a single syllable, a sharp rap of purposeful knuckles struck upon the heavy door drew both their attention toward the door. Darcy's violent growl treated it like an assault, like an attack dog defending what he deemed his. His body taut as if ready to hurl head first into battle. Risque, ever so nonchalantly announced it was breakfast, the woman taking her time, especially to slide those cowgirl boots, as if to further... taunt him. Ah, how she knew his eyes drank her in, she didn't need to turn to feel that weight of those eyes upon her very form. For his rejection... he deserved every torture after all, even if this was a far more subtle one. She looked down onto the soft black leather of her polished feminine cowboy boots, almost admiring the way it complimented this particular outfit. Now she didn't... dislike them... or else there would be no hope for Darcy getting them on her tonight, deal or no. She could feel the weight of Darcy's hungry gaze upon her and she made damn sure to make him regret his choice.
Breakfast was soon snatched from Randall who all but morbidly curious peered into the depths of that room, capturing but a glimpse, those eyes all but shifting from the distracted Darcy to Risques unusual attire. His lips curled into a goofy grin before Risque all but shooed him away with an idle flick of her wrist, nearly batting his very face, barely giving him just enough time before slamming the heavy door to his face, far more focused upon that squirming bound man she now possessed. That whimper croaked from the pitiful bloodbag within her grasp. Risque still rather irked with her mate's refusal tightened her grip painfully upon that intended food's arm, her fingers curling into his arm.
Darcy's words drew her pale gaze toward him, that warmth felt... delectable. Her hunger rose like an ancient beast from slumber in response. Ah, that familiar hunger that forever nestled insatiably inside.
"He was supposed to be for after our little prelude... Randall was early... but I suppose I could have allowed Breakfast to watch.." That insinuation woven within his words was clear even though the delivery of those words were entirely hollow. The she-devil was far from shy and yet the unworthy food was nothing short of dead to describe that tale to anyone. Risque was not usually kind to witnesses within this very room. Those walls.. And felines who could not, or would not speak and Darcy himself the only things allowed to truly see. She pressed on, melodious and like a concealed dagger pressed against one's skin. "It appears you won't be so... lucky for such festivities tonight.." She hardly cared for their names, not when they wouldn't make it beyond their purpose. Breakfast seemed a suitable name for exactly what he was, she allowed her freshly manicured fingers to dance along the pulse within his arm.
How his active pulse seemed to jump appetizingly, whether from her proximity or the ominous tone to her voice, she did not know or care. Just that, he would do.
The predator in the now very awake Darcy's interest finally piqued. His words matched the grin upon his features. How almost... harmless he seemed if it were not for those exposed weapon-like fangs to ensure their meal saw what he faced. He squirmed like he was nothing more than a worm upon a hook. He pressed into Risque, as though she would save him. Like she was his last saving grace, an uttered trembling ' please' nothing more than a broken whisper upon his tongue. Risque ignored him, her gaze upon her lover as mentioned sharing. "Of course... You do know... how I can be when I am left... unsated." She paused briefly, considering a rare thought that bloomed in her mind. The human was far too close, and yet... he smelled... lovely. Oh... Sweet and savoury. The she-devil turned to face the human, simply pulled him into her, distractedly to allow her access to that exposed flesh of his neck. His heartbeat roared to life, strong and consistent like a hypnotic song that appealed to her hunger.
In an instant she allowed him free, allowing the morsel to flee but not before allowing that peak of her own waiting fangs. She was amused by the way he scrambled away as if freedom were within his grasp. Like a scared little mouse with nowhere to go... 'HELP HELP ME SOMEBODY PLEASE' he ran right to the door, banging upon it with a desperate ferocity. That door did not budge at all as he tugged furiously upon it. Darcy already had his phone within his hand, unbothered by their frantic future meal. Oh... that didn't take long for him to find that message she had all but forgotten until his compliments. Of course, she knew exactly how she looked in that sinful lingerie that was made for her figure. That picture angled meant to entice her lover further which should be of no great effort considering what she had put him through so far. That potential to distract him... still weaving like a devious serpent within her mind. She lowered her now free hands to the hem of her jeans, folding it down just so to allow just a small peek of that dark blue lace in response to his words.
Breakfast, however, seemed quick to allow his gaze to lower to where Risque's hands were.. Distracted like most men so often became when the thought of sex entered their mind. Even a man in danger... foolishly distracted. That was all but forgotten when Breakfast fled to the other side of the room, as if... better sense finally sliced through him.. that desperation once again rising to look for an exit and how... he would be denied such a thing upon the top floor. Unless he should make it outside... then... he might hurl himself off the building. No she can't have that. Then someone would have to scrape what was left of him off the concrete. What a waste.. That meal was for them and not the cats.
Darcy's words uttered, a question to have a chance at that prime spot upon his neck. Give a man an inch and the man takes a mile. "Is that your first birthday request?" She questioned, that lingering voice was languid like honey, a tease laced within that word alone through her slightly accented words. She didn't wait as she stalked toward the loose prey with clear intent, her gait sinuous even though those boots that lacked a heel seemed to alter it just so.
The man fumbled with his bound hands trying to open that door, doing little more than rattling and producing a rather abrasive sound that assaulted her ears. She clicked her tongue, as she shook her head in clear no. "There is only death out there.. " She chided simply and yet it did little to sooth the man who all but whimpered in desperate frustration. Death was equally inevitable here. How his rapid heart rate only pushed the stream of blood within his veins so much quicker, the scent of him only makes him all the more appealing to her. How that fear seemed to season the blood in such a way and yet... he had seen nothing yet.
The man whirled to face her, his nostrils flared in clear fear, his breath rapid and shallow, his eyes pleading and wide. How his blood seemed to call to her and surely Darcy had by now been equally ensnared. Breakfast pressed into the door, his eyes darting to and fro like a trapped animal prepared to run about the room to a painful end.
The human was shorter than Darcy but built like a tank, like the man could have once been a bodybuilder years ago. It took barely any effort to capture him. Her pale hand grips his wrist tightly that caused a loud groan, as he pulled him into her with one expert movement. Her lips are at his throat, his pulse bounded wickedly tempting upon her lips. "Darcy." She beckons.
"Behind." She ordered, her fangs already had the taste of her mate's blood upon them now she craved.. Sustenance.
Only... Breakfast didn't react fearfully... what an odd little creature. He would have been fun to play with if given time. No.. He smelled of lust. He seemed to lean into Risque's form as if he were anticipating whatever she had in store for him. How Darcy was sure to sense it.
They had fed on victims together and yet never like this. The she-devil far too territorial over her victims to allow such close proximity. Yet.... how would it feel to share, on either side of that neck, at the same time, their prey sandwiched between them unable to escape the sensation of his blood and life leaving him while two ravenous vampires stole their fill. Of course, she does not allude to her curious plan. As far as Darcy was concerned she was up to her same games... and yet tonight was entirely different. Quarantine and matehood seemed to slowly but surely altered her tolerance, far more than she had realized to be so. "Hmm.." She waited as long as it took for Darcy to appear right where she demanded.
Breakfast barely struggled anymore, Risque was almost certain he wouldn't even run when her fangs grazed his skin and she released him. She could hardly help that vague flicker of amusement.. " Eager, isn't he?" She questions idly. Ah, he might even enjoy this... Well.. at least until Darcy bit. Just one bite even if executed carefully could kill him in moments. No one short of her seemed to appreciate that violent pain her lover could inflict upon her. The sweet thought nearly fueled that agitation within her... unruly and restless just beneath her skin. Never.... Before has she been left wanting. Not once, save for now. What an unusual feeling.
"Bite.." She uttered, she could feel his presence.. before her own fangs pierced the man's throat, his blood eager to spill while they both took their fill.
you better run
the full moon's rising.