Virulent Allure - Part One

The missive had arrived that morning and her excitement had been palpable. Breakfast had been forgotten, not that that was anything surprising, Meleigh rarely finished her morning meal. Normally distracted by any number of things, Sevier would've noted early on that she afforded herself the barest of sustenance. She'd invited him to join her for each meal and had fairly glowed with excitement everytime they were allowed to converse, though their interactions were interrupted with such regularity that to actually finish a conversation was the abnorm. As far as he would've been able to tell in the three days he'd been there, Meleigh never kept the same schedule. Discovering where she was in the middle of any day was nigh impossible as she could be just about anywhere. And today was proving early on to be no exception. Flushed with excitement, her soft skin glowed, luminescent eyes lifting to him, "They've found the perfect location!" Location for what was not mentioned, but she was already hurriedly arising from her seat, but a nibble of a scone and a sip of her tea.

"That is great news!" He said emphatically as he pushed the small bowl of fruit toward her. Perhaps it was an odd custom, but he did not sit across from her at the breakfast table; he instead sat beside her, close to her, so close, in fact, that more often than not their knees brushed against one another. He took a bit of the cantaloupe, peeling back his sensual lips to split the piece in twine with a clamp of his straight white teeth. He chewed and swallowed as he watched her before finally asking... "Location for what?" The question came with his touch, a whiplash caress that caught her by the wrist to keep her from rising and gently tugged her back into her seat. It was a game they played regularly as he enjoyed eating with her, and she, in return, enjoyed not eating at all. On a side note, his attire had taken a drastic turn; switching from the finely tailored suit of the modern day to the tunic-and-breeches style of garments more accustom to her estate. He wanted to be a premier guest and figured the best way to do that was to fit in.

Meleigh'd become so familiar with his nearness that she was unbothered by his touch. The familiarity of it, the possessive quality was met only with a soft laugh as she was tugged gently back into her seat. No longer reserved with him she shook her head at their private joke, quick hands divesting him of the other half of his fruit that had just been touched to his mouth. She slid the morsel past her lips, chewing quickly, "Fine. I'm eating, I'm eating." The rustle of the servants around them didn't stop, nor did the giggling teasing of the children who gathered around their informal table. Awaiting her attention at the foot of the table stood her steward with a stack of business documents and just outside the door stood armed guards."A-aannd, the caves have proven to possess a hotspring!"

Sevier's grin was as ethereal as the rest of his Fae features, splaying across his handsome visage as she snaked the morsel from his fingertips and consumed it. He watched her mouth close around the portion that he had just kissed, and with a slight shift in his gaze met her eyes, showing her the elated arousal of such a thought. He knew she shared it, at least a small part of it. It was heated, though amongst the commotion of the eatery it was easily lost in the ruckus. He turned to face her, extending a slender leg beneath the table to lay across her lap, keeping her in place as he pointed toward the Steward. "This man has been trying to talk to you for almost an hour. I'm sure his feet are burning." His attention was caught by one of the younger children, one who he had become rather close to in their games of tag and hide-n-seek. He took a grape from the tray nearby and tossed it across the fifteen feet that separated them, dropping the small bulb right into the child's open and awaiting mouth. Aquamarine eyes glimmered and returned to the Lady of the estate.

His perfection was sometimes unbearable to watch. How could a man be so beautiful and yet still so masculine? She knew it had something to do with his Fae blood but it had to be more than simply the foreign qualities of him. He was sinfully delicious. She had caught herself staring at him so many times over the last couple of days that she no longer felt shame for it. It was like admiring a piece of art. The accompanying surge of arousal that usually joined it, however, was another thing entirely. Overwhelmed in her innocent state she would quickly avert her gaze from him in those moments. Granted his easy physicality was a strong assault on her already inflamed senses. Startled by the weight of his body upon hers, she froze in shock at his leg atop her lap, but any protest was lost in the humorousness of his teasing combined with the deft handling of the children who had come to adore him. Their cheers and applause echoed by a couple of the servants, who maintained an easy and relaxed state with the Lady of the Manor who did not demand rigid obedience. Rolling her eyes gently in mock exasperation she turned those icily blue orbs upon her steward, "Fine Mickus, it appears Lord Bane thinks I've been doing you a disservice." Her light teasing was immediately met with a protested denial and a blush as the steward hurried forward to slide the ledger book before her. "Oh no, milady, I understand that you are busy." Though he slid a thankful look Sevier's way.

Sevier made a game of it while she handled her daily business. As she conversed with the paper-wielding steward, he went down the line of children, tossing grapes and small pebbles of fruit their way, hitting them dead-center in the mouth with every launch. Even the servants, who found amusement in the contest, became part of it - his aim shifting to them instead, pitching the pieces their way. He turned back in mid-laugh and met the gaze of the Steward, a simple nod conveying his understanding as he careened forward to give a quick look over the papers laid out before her. His leg shifted upon her lap, brushing the length of her skirts along her thighs, drawing the hemline upward to expose her delicate ankles to the brisk air of the morning. "Always busy." He said softly, the gentle sound of his voice caressing her ear as his words were meant only for her.

Ahh, but the call of paperwork. Distraction descended. And with it the furrowing of her brow marred the pretty perfection of her features. The giggles of the children and Sevier's antics became background noise as she immersed herself in the challenges of running an estate in a new realm, while overseeing new commerce in a land so foreign. She barely noticed his proprietary leg, nor the exposure of her delicate ankles, though a keen eye would note that she was wearing a pair of self designed stockings, dyed a rich mauve color, the dark purplish hue interrupted by the delicate stitch of emerald green thread that formed an ivy vine of leaves trailing up the backs of her slender calves to disappear into the mystery beneath her skirts. A quill would be applied where her signature was required, notations made, figures added, and the feathered end brought forth to caress her lips, chin and throat in a gesture that was pure habit when lost in thought. His intimate whisper near her ear brought a soft hum of distracted agreement, instinctively tilting her head in an offer of womanly acceptance at his nearness.

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Virulent Allure - Part Three

The courtyard sat beneath her open windows accepted the morning breeze and dawning sunlight. As she slipped free from the hugging length of her gown she paused for a moment in the white boned corset, fingers hesitating on the garters that held up her lustrous stockings. It somehow felt sinful to know that he was simply beneath her balcony, within the distance of her voice should she call to him.

The wind intensified as she stared out the ajar window, a gentle caress that licked across the exposure of her nearly naked form, finding a tender touch upon the flesh that peaked out of the tantalizing lingerie that encased her. It seemed nearly tangible, tactile in its embrace; sweeping along her pale skin with eager anticipation as it encircled her throat, entrapped her bosom, and delved between her thighs. The smell of a storm was carried with it, pleasant and nearly dreamlike. "I think I know how I want to take you, lady." It seemed that those words were all around her, carried upon the same whispering wind that thoughtfully sampled her nubile body, spoken in the alluring inflection that accented the voice of Sevier Bane. From her position she could not see him, though there was still a lot of scenery unknown thanks to her position, which undoubtedly kept her partially denude form from being spied by onlookers outside.

The sound that followed was a foreign sound really. Passion. From the mouth of an innocent it sounded slightly tortured, as if she would swallow it back but could not. Heat assailed her body, throbbing, pulsating and distractingly agitating. A shake of her head sent blonde ringlets tumbling about in denial of what was assuredly arousal that took her. Breathless, she cast about for a distraction from the strange responses of her body to an arcane intervention. As her crystalline blue eyes alit upon her bed she shuddered hard, fast and barely contained the whimper of approval that sought freedom. A blush, crimson hued it was so vividly violent, swarmed her flesh as she realized that she wanted nothing more than to climb back into that cushiony expanse and see to the demands of her body. Again, a testament to her naivet? that she did not immediately picture any assistance in such an endeavor despite her attraction to the sinfully manipulative Sidhe. With fumbling fingers she quickly divested herself of the corset, her handspan-narrow waist freed seconds before her breasts. Discarding the article quickly she sought to slide off the hose no longer held by their garters.

The wind became a sensual torrent, circulating along the length of her supple body with its enticing touch. The sides of her neck, along the collar bone and shoulders, and even down the backs of her arms - the touch was that of a desperate lover seeking to kiss as much of her flesh as possible with its lashing breeze. Her glance to the bed would show that it too had been infected by the wind's touch, the smooth span of covers rustling in silken waves, calling for her to return and sprawl across their softness. Around her ankles and up her calves, the backs of her knees...her thighs...her buttocks. Riding the swell of her hips, that seductive wind ascended her spine until it came to a lingering halt upon the nape of her neck. The corset was easily disposed of, the fastens unhinging with what almost felt like fate's helping hand, though the delicious span of those stockings were another story. Upon reaching down to dip her slender fingers within the tops of them she felt the tangible touch of masculine hands cover her own, trapping her there upon her own thighs. Where the wind had settled upon the nape of her neck she could feel the silken caress of moisten lips, and again she heard his voice...this time close to her ear, dangerously close, filling it with his warm and inviting breath. "Now, now, Lady. There is no rush. These are my favorites, as you well know."

Fear tinged her arousal, a frightened widening of her eyes as she whipped about to find the voice that clearly called to her. Hands clasping her nakedness in a futile attempt to conceal that only heightened the exposed nature of her body. It was only the assurance that she recognized this male voice for that of Sevier's and further connected that realization to her very genuine desire for him. What if she were imagining all of this? How could she possibly explain that to her rescuers? A breathless cry of protest followed, though whether it was at what was transpiring or at the image of such an embarrassing revelation was not readily apparent.

The Dark Hunter was surely there, flashing before her gaze as she spun in shocked horror, though as she swiveled he stepped forward to encircle her within his arms, drawing her nakedness against the hard lines that lingered beneath the fine clothing he wore. Heat, soothing heat, emanated from him and bathed her bare skin. He bowed his head and buried his face within the column of her throat, hiding his gaze. "Lady, I've told you once already that your beauty is too intoxicating for me to resist. I sought only to caress your legs, to feel their softness, but to find you here...like this..." He exhaled, dousing her throat in the arousal that laced the fabric of his being. "...I want you..." He admitted. "...I want you badly." Fingertips that just moments before held her firmly against him relaxed, if only to begin a pointed journey across the span of her back, stroking and massaging muscles that he was certain were tight with the stress of rulership.

She would have screamed, surely she would have, if her breath hadn't constricted so tightly in her throat. Her stomach clenched as if she'd been dropped from a great height, the echoing pulsation of her womanhood a startling sensation to one who'd never before felt such a pleasurable response. His sudden appearance had left her stricken and it was only the odd comforting weight of his arms trailing about her so possessively that returned her to her more forthright self; however, the feel of his body against hers, all masculine lines of slender, agility nearly robbed her of sanity. "Sevier," She breathed his name as if it were a powerful statement, unaware that in his cultural ways it most assuredly was. It was his words that were her undoing, carried as they were on the moist hot breath that bathed the sensitive skin of her throat. But more than that, his simple admission of want was echoed so greatly by her own secret desires that it was no wonder that it was enough to send her into a spiraling explosion of pleasure. Quite simply: she came. Hard. Liquidly pulsating deep within her core. Her eyes flared wide at the strangely exotic sensation, her lips parting on a hiccupping little cry of frightened pleasure.

Sevier hadn't expected that. Truly, in this lustful game he played with her he hadn't predictable her to find such delicious release so abruptly, and as he felt her hips shiver, nestled against his own, quivering with eruption, all that he could think about was tasting her. He parted his lips and boldly fastened them against her neck, letting the lines of his teeth embed lightly upon the skin to add a sharp sting to the overwhelming pleasure. Fingers continued to massage along the span of her shoulders, working their way toward the small of the back, urging her hips forward against his to collide with the salient bulge at the apex of his own. He gasped, tongue flickering out to taste the bitten span of her flesh as with another roll he grinded into her. "I want to feel you." He pleaded. "Taste you." He spun her then, a simple pirouette, and again he embraced her, though this time he took up handfuls of her uncovered breasts, entrapping her tender nipples between his splayed fingers. "I need you." He whispered before he again consumed her neck.

Virulent Allure - Conclusion

With a suddenness she jerked from his tempting grasp to spin about a few feet from him, panting: A vision in her mauve thigh highs and wild abandon. "Sevier, No. I can't. We can't. This." She wasn't making much sense and she could only taper off as she stared at him with those wide expressive eyes.

He gasped, no longer able to touch her, his aquamarine eyes snapping open to stare blankly at her in disbelief, as though breaking that contact had somehow devastated his entire sense of being. He swallowed hard and his face contorted as though he ingested razor blades. "I want you." He said again, though this time it was more severe, nowhere near the plea it had been before. "I want you in that bed." He motioned toward the lustful altar behind her with a nod. "I want you now."

His commanding tone should have put her back up. Should've offended her. Brought her to her senses as it reminded her of their positions. But the powerful look of raw need he delivered upon her masterfully aroused body had her taking a hesitant step back from him. A qiuck kneel retrieving her corset and on the next backpedal wrapping it about the delicate expanse of her ribcage. Fumbling fingers attempted to work the clasps as the swell of her sweet breasts rose above the rim of the ivory encasement. It might've been a possible feat even with the nervous tremble of her fingers had it not been for her inability to take her eyes off of him. Her nipples, abraded by his touch, aroused to fiery peaks of desire, responded to the touch of the satin and her sharp gasp might have drowned out his initial "I want you" but his secondary claim had her freezing as she realized her backwards step had quite nearly delivered her onto that altar of lust he demanded her upon, sacrificed to that burgeoning weapon of pure male arousal. The thought of what would happen in that bed, of what he desired, the ultimate outcome of their tryst drew her gaze away from the mesmerizing aquamarine heat of his eyes and slowly down the perfection of his muscular body to linger upon that which she had felt against the most intimate part of herself. Wide eyes flared even wider, her breath expelling sharply. Another protest died upon her lips.

"I want to feel you beneath me as I kiss you, as I invade you." His features nearly softened as his hand rose and reached, clenching into a fist around the air between them. Again he swallowed hard, as though each time he consumed the bitter taste of the distance she created with her retreat, and he fought with everything he had to keep from pouncing upon her and taking her whether she returned his desire or not. His gaze roamed incessantly along the swells and curves of her body, the fire that burned within him continuing to rage with a growing blaze, though as he spoke his voice was nothing more than a dying smolder. "I want to feel you come around me....as I come." He sucked in a breath and forced himself to turn, the steps that carried him suddenly toward the door resembling that of a prowl; a predator seeking the hunt...though unexpectedly seeking it elsewhere.

This was not the elegant and graceful man who breakfasted with her. The charming diplomat who bade children and servants alike to thrill to his presence. He was frightening. Fascinatingly so. Arousingly so. Her body responded as if slapped with it. A brutal lash of lust that called for her to surrender to him. His look clearly implied that he wanted to take her, her desire present or not, though the glistening gloss on her thighs gave any doubt to her state of arousal an easy dismissal. The scent of her womanly orgasm had tinged the room with the musky smell of sex. A foreign enough experience for the innocent woman who had only partially succeeded in clasping closed her corset. She whimpered pitifully as his words twined about her in binding vines of sinful need. The more he explained himself the less control she had left to deny him his prey. A shockingly hard tremor wracked her thighs at the mention of him coming with her and she quite nearly came again, solely by the manipulation of his spoken words. His prowl was glorious to watch, the fine lines of his elegant masculinity always demanding appreciation. As he reached the door she bit her lip to keep from calling him back, the strangled moan catching in her throat as she gave into the weakness of her legs and collapsed back upon her bed.

As he crossed the threshold he took hold of the door and drew it closed, slamming it a bit too harshly. He waited there, leaning against the sealed barrier and drew the breath needed to calm his heart....his hunger. He had played the game dangerously close, and found that perhaps she was not the only one who was genuinely invested in their secret affair. He could still see her there, naked, throbbing. He glanced down to his hands and searched first the left, and then the right, convinced that he could still feel her breast within them. His tongue was numb and anxious to return to her mouth and...his finger. Slowly he drew it upward to rest against his lips, and before he tasted it he drew in its appetizing aroma. How pure and sweet she was. He parted his mouth and suckled the long digit inward, and though it had not sheathed itself within her, it had glazed its length partially by sliding from one end of her soaked sanctuary to the other. He could taste her, putting her on his eager tongue, devouring her. She was delicious, addictive, and he wanted more.