There was something so distinctly....satisfying in the aftermath of that sex. As reckless and wild and intense as it had been in its bloodied glory. It had been true sex. True vampiric sex as it should be and how that Southern Cowboy's body felt nothing short of saited in the wake of it. Darcy, in that moment, inclined to feel a distinctly rare contentment of body and mind. The vampiric pair seeming to find a calm in the wake of that storm. A momentary quietude. One in which nothing save the sound of their breathing interrupted the darkened, blood stained night. It felt good to breathe, even if that air was so hardly a necessity. Risque too, seemed to take several distinctly rare breaths as Darcy rolled into the passenger seat. The cowboys tongue brushed over his lips, sweeping what remained of that blood from them before reaching to tug his jeans upward and over his hips in some fleeting display of southern politeness. One that hardly extended to making any effort to do up that zip or button. Darcy, for now, far more content to simply taste the air around them. The scent of blood and sweat and sex tainted the air in every direction and oh- how he fed on it. That taste itself was distinctly potent. A tangible flavour to linger upon his tongue. This had been an exceptional night and yet, just as quickly as that more dominant beast had appeared- so too it seemed to fade. Darcy, for now, slipping back into that far more submissive role as he settled beside his mate. Risque's voice, at last, breaking that silence if only to insist he did not fuck fair. A soft snort erupted gently from his nose. Darcy was content to insist any lack of fairness he had learned had surely come from her. After all, was it not she whom had taught him how to truly fuck to begin with? Was it not her who had trained him to be her perfect partner? To satisfy her as she desired and deserved? Even if, for tonight alone, it had been Darcy whom had dictated that act.

A single, short scoff seemed to escape his lover then. Risque, in that aftermath, appeared near lazy in her own contentment as she agreed that, perhaps, it was her own fault. Those words were nothing short of a rare admittance and yet neither seemed intent upon fixating upon it now. Darcy drew a single, final breath of air, enough to satisfy his sense of smell and lungs in turn before his breath fell quiet. The vampire instead was content to turn over those other thoughts that tugged at the depths of his mind. That sexual release, so at last, affording him some clarity of thought once more and oh- how entirely determined he was to make use of his mates own equally pleasant mood. She had, after all, promised him a number of requests. Darcy was near certain she had not specified exactly when they needed to be used. The southern cowboy, tonight, feeling so apparently....bold enough to make use of several of them. Even if that first was merely the utterance of a distinctly potent question. Her name upon his lips so readily prompted her gaze. Her hypnotic blue eyes were nothing short of expectant as she waited. Darcy content to query whether or not that had been the best sex she had ever had in a truck- or carriage.

It was rare, in every sense, for the Cowboy to so much as consider those men who had come before him. Such things were entirely prone to irritate him, enrage him, to niggle at those jealous desires that so potently slid through his own veins. It was, after all, those very desires that had seen him remove potential lover after lover from Syn itself. Any man whom showed great an interest in Risque found himself embedded with fang or bullet. He had been nothing short of....careful, to remove those beings when Risque herself was otherwise indisposed. Darcy so eternally able to explain away their sudden disappearance and yet oh, how he suspected Risque knew, and had known, for so many years now what had truly become of any man who dared look at her too wistfully, who dared flirt, or show affection. Ho readily Risque's own affection and attention might brand a man for death in much the same way. Darcy would have no competition. Not within his territory. Not within his home. Besides, removing those.....weak-minded fools kept their own coven strong- and only further asserted his own dominance as Syn's single, leading male. Yet- how very assured of himself he felt tonight. Darcy, for the first time, daring to request his lovers....judgement of that performance. A judgement Risque seemed inclined to draw out.

His lover's figure stretched in a fashion akin to one of her cats. Her naked figure, even bloodied, was nothing short of perfection beneath that moon's glow. Her every swell and curve was so perfectly femanine. The very goddess he had always known her to be and yet how very determined he was to know if he had satisfied such divinity. But not before she was ready. Darcy so forced to wait. The vampire obediently silent as he did. Risque, at last, so uttering those accented words he had desired to hear. His Queen insistent that, in her undead life, it had been the best sex she had ever had in a non-moving vehcile. How very...specific. Darcy, for the barest of moments, inclined to consider that both her human life and moving vehicles had been removed from that equation and yet, for now at least, he was but entirely content to take the victory he had been afforded. A distinctly smug simper settled upon the cowboys lips in that moment. Darcy's hands lifted to fold behind his head in satisfaction. Risque did not lie. Risque did not offer petty, pretty words to merely satisfy his feelings. To say such a thing so assured that she had meant it. How certain Darcy was he might never forget such praise as that. The southern vampire, even now, even after so many years at her side, was still content to be offered praise alone. That smugness upon his features was distinctly clear. At least until he dared suggest he had another request.

That very look he was offered in response so readily seemed to provoke a hint of wariness to his features once more. Even contented as his lover was, her temperament remained precarious. Perhaps he had dared to be too bold and yet, it seemed as if not all of that beast had faded back. Several tendrils of that dominance existed still. A dominance that was determined to dare to ask for more. Risque's voice broke that silence once more. Her exotic, french lyrics a distinct contrast to the drawl of his own as she afforded him that permission to continue. Her hand traced languid, wide circles upon her naked figure as she waited, her fingers trailing through that drying blood. Those patterns were near....mesmerizing. Darcy was drawn to the scent of that blood as he uttered that singular request. To be in charge again. That ever delicate war of their relationship had changed territories tonight. For a single, potent moment in time he had taken that metaphorical battle to his lover and won. Risque, in turn, had navigated that new terrain flawlessly by yielding her command and yet- whether or not she would permit him to do as such again remained to be seen. How...delicate that balance of power was and yet how reluctant Darcy was to yield what he had won tonight.

It was one thing, after all, to be given that control upon neutral ground. It was another to dare to take it within their bed. A bed he had been invited into. Upon a territory that was still so much Risque's alone. Could she truly yield to him there? His lover's eyes narrowed, her blue gaze appearing near black in that darkness as she seemed to consider those very things within the sharpness of her mind. Darcy, in turn, seemed wholly inclined to wait as his own mismatched gaze lingered upon hers. How aware he was of her every movement, her every shift, of every taut and release of every muscle. The cowboy was ready to dodge any blow she might offer him if it appeared he had displeased her too greatly with his daring. Risque rose within her seat, her femanine figure framed by her midnight hair. The sight of her in those boots alone so daring to prompt the beginnings of hardness to his figure once more. How readily he had expected a near resounding no. An expectation to be forced back from those metaphorical front lines to consider a different assault upon those desires that danced within his own mind. Yet.....she seemed inclined to consider it. A momentary surprise danced fleetingly upon Darcy's features, that very look hidden quickly beneath his near idle comment that they had, in the very least, baptised that truck sufficiently.

Risque near languidly insisted that she would see to tasking one of the initiates with cleaning it. That very notion prompted a snort of amusement from within Dary himself. Still, as decidedly obscure as that task was, it would serve a purpose. Risque, after all, did nothing without purpose.

"It'll show which o'dem new 'ires is willin ta work."

It would prove which of them had a stomach for....gore in turn. At least to some degree. Such an initiate might prove to be worth more of their time. It was, if nothing else, a decent test. His previous request, however, seemed to linger upon his lover's mind as Risque's gaze fell upon him once more. His mistress, this time, demanded to know of his proposal. Darcy's tongue shifted loosely within his mouth. The vampire toying with the tips of several fangs in a clear contemplation. How certain he was that his lover expected something...specific of him. A specific want or desire or fantasy he sought to fulfil and yet.....how readily he had something else in mind for that request. Even if, perhaps, it pushed upon that boldness all the more.

"'Olidays."

That single, uttered word seemed to linger in the silence between them. Risque, as he had anticipated, not truly grasping his intent behind that seemingly simple word as a look of confusion touched her features.

"I was tinking I should git public 'olidays. Like dat Independence Day, Memorial Day, Christmas, Thanksgiving and me birthday and all dat. If we 'ave sex on a day dats me birthday or a public 'oliday den I get ta be in charge like tonight. Dis dun mean yar can just never be in da mood on a 'oliday, yar gotta play it fair. Now dat ain't even once a month i'm askin for. What do ya tink?"

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth