flamekthunder | { songerein: inbox }

[The sound of her dress tearing seems to echo through the whole room, that alone sending a ripple of heat to pool between her legs, and as he pulls it down, it will reveal the lace that she had worn to bed, that was waiting for him when he walked out of the shower. The black feels so much darker against her pale skin, sheened lightly in sweat, glistening as her chest heaves for breath.

And she watches him in the mirror, watches as he sinks his teeth further. Watches as he tries to drink her up... watches as he quickly loses himself in this fantasy of hers, just like she is. It's so captivating, thrilling... a rush that Tifa has never really known until now.]

How did this happen...? How did I end up...

[She can hardly finish her sentence, the sight alone eclipsing her already foggy head.]

[As if in response to her continued protests, there's a low growl, a flash in his eyes.]

Give it up.

[Whether that's supposed to be in character or to Tifa herself, it's clear he's ready to continue where they left off back in the room. But he won't strip her completely yet. He can tell she's watching from the mirror, and as he threatened back in the hallway, he plans to make her a complete mess.

And he'd like her to see it.

So instead, his hands will just roughly go to their targets, one roughly groping her breast as pulls against the bra, the other plunging to between her legs.

With his gloves still on.]

[Her broken cry when his hands reach around her shatters through the room, and one of her own reaches out to grip the edge of the vanity, the table rocking slightly from her strength alone, as the other rests over his hand at her chest, guiding him into pressing it more firmly.

Roughly.

Just the way he knows she likes it.

She blinks her eyes open and swallows past the dryness in her throat, and he'll see how much she tries to fight it. Tries to fight that trembling in her fingers and the eager quiver of her thighs as she spreads them in invitation. In a plea when his hand doesn't wander far enough.]

But I can't...

[Is she still making a feeble attempt at acting the part?]

You're one of them, aren't you?

[Yes, she is, and she'll try to wriggle free. Feebly. Even if she wanted to run, her legs would not carry her far.

What has she gotten herself into?]

Edited 2023-10-19 05:37 (UTC)

[When she tries to move, he just moves his hand roughly against her, as if in reprimand. As if to make her "wriggle" in a different way.]

And you're my prey for the night. ...But.

[A wicked grin as bares his fangs to graze along the vein of her neck.]

Maybe... I could make you last a while longer...

[Dark words in disguise of "mercy," the implications made clear as he squeezes her breast harder, pinching her nipple from outside the lace.]

[And he does, every muscle that still works squirming into his hands, seeking the pressure and the contact, but it isn't until she feels his teeth on her neck again that she takes a sharp intake of breath, the shock and the heat of it both doing untold things to her. Things that she has never imagined she could feel before.

He always knew how to surprise her, always knew how to keep her on her toes as well as curl them, but this is on a whole other level. Having the setting, the clothes, and especially the sharpened fangs makes her lose herself.]

Eus—

[Lose herself so much that she forgets where they even are, but not enough that she forgets the things that she had wanted to do.

...

When she subtly kicks her foot out, there's a soft clatter on the floor, and out from under the vanity slide a pair of metal cuffs...... and if her face wasn't already red before, it is now.]

[He hears that slip, and he wants to make her break out of this "play," to hear her name cry out from her lips in that desperate, strangled way that incites those darker desires only she can pry out. More of herself is exposed, hand at her chest now beneath the lace, half of it pushed up by his movements...

When he hears that sound, eyes snapping to the handcuffs on the floor.

...]

Hoh.

[A low sound of amusement before his eyes go to hers. Slowly his mouth moves to her ear, one eye on the mirror's reflection to watch her.]

Is that what you want?

[She can hardly stand to look at herself, too embarrassed to see that he's already started to make that mess of her. How her lips are red and swollen even without the kisses that she so, so desires, as they fall open, how her skin glistens with sweat, how her hips slowly rock into his hand in their silent pleas.]

N-no...

[Though, her protest is playful, squeaked out of her in a voice that is barely heard over the roar of her blood in her head, and her own brand of dark heat simmers in her eyes when she lifts her gaze to his, lips quirked into a shy grin.

Another rattle of chains as she nudges the cuffs closer to him with her foot.]

I... have to get back in the morning...

[A low laugh as he slowly withdraws his hands...]

Didn't I already tell you?

[...only to kick up the handcuffs—]

You are my prey tonight.

[—catch them in his hands—]

You're never leaving here.

[—and then swiftly pick her up in his arms to carry her to the bed where she will be roughly dropped onto.]

[She tries not to let that sound of surprise escape her when she's scooped up and thrown to the bed, nor the fit of giggles that she knows is blooming in her chest, wanting to break free, but the tension in the air doesn't allow it. It suffocates it all out of her instead, leaving her only with the burn of anticipation between her legs as she clambers up to the head of the bed looking like that rabbit caught in the big bad wolf's trap.

Oh nooo~ whatever will she do!?]

I promise I didn't mean to come in here... or look around... I just...

[She doesn't even know what she needs to say anymore, or what she could say. Any word that isn't his name is just a jumble on her head, tangled on the tip of her tongue.]

I was curious! I... really should be going now...

[Except she isn't going anywhere, as she lifts a hand to gather her skirt in a fist, the other wiping the sweat away from her collarbone as she forces herself to not shy away and to look at him.]

[As Eustace watches Tifa scramble back, his eyes just carry that dark gleam. And slowly he begins to first unfasten his cloak, the large fabric slipping down the back of his shoulders.]

Still you protest...

[Then comes the tie, handcuffs swaying with a loud clink as the slender fingers holding them slip through the knot to pull it away with ease until that falls, shirt loosening.]

But I can already see... [A slight sneer as his eyes drift to between her legs, her scent already filling the space between them as if beckoning.] What you really want.

[The end of the bed dips as one knee drops on it, hand rising to his mouth to grab the tip of the glove with his teeth and yanks it off.]

So go ahead and cry.

[And then the other glove is pulled away and tossed to the side with its partner.]

I'll have those, too.

[Her tears. Always so sweet like nectar from a newly bloomed flower.

And in the next moment, with the assistance of that vampire speed, he's on her. His hand slams against the headboard as he looms over her, a strange darkness falling over them as the candles flicker briefly and a few go out, darkening the room further. In this dim light, his eyes seem to have an odd glow... But that could just be the ambient effect of the setting. At the very least, it adds to the illusion, that desire burning clearly as he lowers himself to her.]

[She becomes so hyper-aware of every movement, every sound that he makes, right down to the very low timbre of his voice, almost like her bones mean to absorb the vibrations of it when each one passes through the air. She's zeroed in on him, every sense heightened to the point where it's overwhelming.

She purrs at the heavy sound of his cloak falling to the floor, watches him with parted, hungry lips as he tugs away each of his gloves, rolls here head back at the sound of the chains rattling, her body arching in invitation when the bed dips beneath that shift in weight.

They have done a lot of different things together, tried so much that Tifa never imagined herself ever humouring, but she isn't sure that she's wanted him as much as she wants him now. Though, that seems to be the way—with each night they spend together, every moment of intimacy only makes that feeling grow, and this is no different.

It startles her a little when he suddenly appears over her, and when the candles go out, he'll see that spark of eagerness, that flash of the thrill that he lights. The bite of her lip as she tries to stifle her smile.

Her head lowers to the pillow, her hair spilling like ink behind her, the contrast against her pale skin making that flush in her face and her neck all the more delectable to one like him...]

And what is it that you want...?

[Her voice is so sickly sweet, hushed with a breathless exertion that she's never known herself to feel.]

[A smirk forms as he's now right over her, face close but still too far for her to reach.]

Raise your arms.

[Yes. He's not only going to not answer, but he's also going to make her "help" with this. Though they both know it's only because he quite enjoys commanding her, just as she enjoys that thrill of following his orders.]

[There's another spark in her eyes, an eager bite to her lip, and slowly... so painfully slowly, Tifa stretches her arms above her head as far as they will go in this position. So far that it forces her body to bend and arch, spreading herself open further for him. She can feel the lace strain against her, trying to hold together as best as it can...]

... Like this?

[A coy glance down her body at him.]

[A low hum of approval as his hands start at her hips and slowly slide up the length of her body, relishing every curve. Up her chest, thumbs flicking over those raised peaks beneath the lace before one hand goes up her neck, thumb at her lips while the other slides up her arms to pin them closer together.]

Good girl.

[And then the snap, the click of the handcuffs as leathery vines spiral down the length of her forearms to bind her further.]

[His praise mixed with that loud, metallic click of the cuffs locking around her wrist, the cold pressing into her skin, rewards him with a soft moan, a light shudder that moves through her body, from her fingertips to her toes that curl and then back up to where his hands grab her.

She squirms under him, like she's trying to wrestle herself free from her restraints, but that only serves to tighten them, the vines snapping around her arms to keep them completely still...

As he looms over her, he'll see her excitement settling into her chest, her breaths already tattered and uneven, and the flush that creeps over her pale flesh, inviting him. Beckoning those fangs of his to sate that thirst that she knows that he has...

And when her eyes land on his lips—]

Please, Eustace...

[—she breaks.

She wants to kiss him. She wants him to kiss her... and her lips part open in that silent plea yet again.]

Edited 2023-10-20 02:47 (UTC)

[He looks down at her, a dark gleam forming in his eyes as he lowers slightly, yet still out of reach.]

...Keep begging like that.

[A twisted smirk before she'll finally feel his lips again...

...but it won't be for a kiss.

Who's the one in control here, hm? Instead he'll ravage her neck, teeth biting sharply as if in reprimand. And then it's the long, slow, drag of his sharpened canines over that vein again, and he swears he can feel that pulse through his teeth. Hear it, and when his tongue runs over it, taste what lays beneath. But it's not really blood he wants, but...something else. Something darker.

For now he'll continue to drag it out, torturing her with that tease of his teeth and lips while his hands slide down the length of her body to her hips...to slip beneath the lace, fingers immediately digging into her slick folds.]

[Her lips try to chase after his and take what she's been waiting for all this time, but he's too quick in ducking away, and the vines work against her to pull her back, stretching and arching her body tight just for him.

And when his fingers slip past the lace, he'll feel just how much she's been left wanting, everything primed and ripe that he can effortlessly slip past her walls, eliciting a cry that shakes off the four posters of the bed, and she bends into it, the vines stretching beneath the strength of her exertions only to have them snap back into place around her arms.]

Just a taste...?

[She's trying so, so hard to keep her voice even, but with his teeth raking over her throat and his fingers filling that emptiness, she only slips a little further.]

No.

[A harsh, cold, rejection, but she may feel that smile if his lips before his teeth sink back into her flesh, this time down by her cleavage, mouth taking in that soft curve.]

[Oh, she can feel it, among other wonderful things his lips are doing, and it only makes her huff out with a frustrated sigh. Short-lived, of course, when he nips at her again, forcing her to arch back up into him.

But he'll feel something, too—the tension in her body, in every inch that he laves over, and in that spot right between her thighs where all of that pent-up frustration is starting to pool. Frustration and tension that she could relieve if he would just let her...

He'll hear the chains at her wrists rattle, and her body will jerk gently when he hits a particularly sensitive spot, her legs kicking out from under him so that she can at least try to break the vines free.]

I just need one...

Hmm... You're not really in position to make demands...

[Not that she's really demanding at all, but he's keeping to his role... Which isn't really much pretending, either. And as if in response, his fingers roughly stroke her folds, pinching at the aroused nub before slipping further down towards her entrance yet not entering. Just sliding around, torturing her.

And at her chest, he pierces the lace with his fangs, tearing it as he rips it forcibly apart down the center.]

You're forgetting whose dream—

[But she's broken off when his fingers work her a little more roughly, a gasp falling out of her when she hears the lace ripping under his teeth. Her hips rock in response, clearly seeking more of that pressure and relief as she loses her grip on whatever "power" and "restraint" that she had, if she had any at all.]

—don't make me use it.

I thought you wanted to reenact.

[A low laugh as his teeth graze over her skin.]

Is this not it?

[And before she can answer, his mouth latches onto her tit, the dark flesh hardened and stiff as his tongue runs over it before there's the prick of his fangs, dangerously digging into the sensitive flesh before he begins to sick down hard.]

[It was an empty threat, because as soon as his lips close over her breast, the fangs digging in ever so slightly, she's forgotten about it completely, tumbling right back into the here and now as the steam in the room works alongside his mouth and hands to make her dizzy. Dizzy with this new bliss and excitement she's never experienced, and dizzy with the anticipation of what she knows to come...]

It is.

[She answers him weakly, her voice still struggling to stay even when her legs kick in frustration.]

But you're not exactly making it easy...

[He smirks against her, nipping her gently before he pulls back to look at her.]

It was never supposed to be.

[And from where he sits he thrusts his finger fast and deep into her, plunging deep to feel her walls clench tightly around him. And as he continues he'll roughly yank down her underwear so he can better see how desperate she swallows and moves against his hand, knowing full well it's not enough and she wants more.]

[She does, and the way her knee hooks over his shoulder and pulls on him is quite telling to how much she more she actually wants. Her walls are already clenching around him, drawing him as deep as he will go, her own hips moving to match the dreadful and brutal pace he's set with his fingers.

She thought she'd been sated earlier, before they had even entered the dream. She was perfectly content and had easily drifted off to sleep, relaxed and in that state of soft, warm state of bliss that he so often puts her under... but she feels it now. She never was, or perhaps she never can be when it comes to him—it was only a seed planted for later, that would grow and grow into the terrible ache that she suffers through now...

One that he stubbornly refuses to ease.

He knows that this isn't enough. He knows that it won't fill her needs... and he still insists...

She asked for this. She wanted it. But now that she is here, she can feel the fires of her own desire burning hot, reflected in the way her eyes have darkened from the bright, vibrant reds to a saccharine brown, pupils blown wide in suppressed lust.]

You were supposed to be the one—

[To work for it, is what she means to say, but her voice is lost to the low, drawn-out, throaty moan that shatters out of her underneath a heave of her chest.]

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