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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 16:24:30 GMT -5
Moving the crop as she pressed her body to mine, running it along the back of her leg to the swell of her rear as I tugged her hair so she was pulled slightly back from my body again. Once she was a half-step away I growled at her, "Exactly as much as you do, precious- or else you wouldn't be in this position with me."
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 16:37:29 GMT -5
“And what’s wrong with this position?” I asked, arching my back a little bit more to better advantage, as well as to give time for the urge to disentangle his hand from my hair and rip out some of his to pass. Turning away from him to present my hind quarters.
“Would you prefer me like this?” I asked, coyly curving my spine. “Tied over a barrel and weeping to be spared from your might?”
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 16:46:43 GMT -5
My eyes narrowed. "Hardly- it's less than flattering on you and I can find people born for such things elsewhere."
Her hair was soft in my hands and I stepped closer to her again, dropping the crop. The now-free hand went to her hand in my hair and pressed on the inside of the wrist to get her to release.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 17:01:12 GMT -5
My hand opened convulsively as he pushed down on my nerves, in more ways than one. Spinning back to face him I was now acutely aware that he held me in both hands and I had not a finger laid upon him. I forced myself not to make a pathetic grab for him. I did however lazily reach up to the arm that held me by the hair and stoked slowly from elbow to wrist and back again.
“Then why aren’t you elsewhere?” I asked with fire snapping in my eyes.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 17:12:07 GMT -5
Oh, she was actually losing her temper! Eyes sparkling with a sort of triumph I moved her closer to me, my thumb on the back of her neck beginning to stroke her soft, pale skin.
This was the 'make or break' point- instinctively I knew that. Ever so gently I lowered my lips to her neck, close enough that she could feel them brush her skin when I spoke but too far for her to get constant contact. "Why did you agree to be in this 'game'? Who else would be willing to play?"
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 17:27:19 GMT -5
Turning towards him so that my check touched his I whispered in the most seductive tones I could muster, “I joined because the Princess was so persuasive.” And then I braced myself.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 17:32:40 GMT -5
She thought that mentioning Shadow would make me angry. "I know she is- that's where her talent lies," I said quietly. "Though I notice you still play the game while Coretta is absent. Maybe you just really want to play.." I suggested, moving my head down her shoulder and backing away.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 17:43:53 GMT -5
I’d apparently misjudged the tie to his sister. No matter, we were still having fun. “It’s your twisted little game.” I said with a bit of a shrug, “I’m just the whore you’ve bought to play it with.”
Not that I minded, between this boy and his sister, I might never run out of amusement.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 17:47:39 GMT -5
Laughing slightly I looked into her eyes, mine becoming darker with rage again. "And you still play, without even knowing the rules- for all you know, you could be our human sacrifice at the end. Besides, what better do you have to do than play?"
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 18:14:06 GMT -5
“It’s you who doesn’t know the rules little Prince.” I said with a laugh, “You think you belong here? Throwing tantrums? Have you built yourself a little reputation for a temper, back at the family seat?”
“This is Mandrake House, darling. It takes more than a boy throwing fits to send me running.” The anger in his eyes boded no good, but it did promise something interesting.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 18:19:19 GMT -5
My eyes widened at I felt my temper- that stupid, thoughtless, un-Courcel temper- burning within me. Eyes burning like alcohol fires I yanked back on her hair sharply, hissing in her ear, "What do you think you know about MY family? Do you even know your own?"
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 18:33:28 GMT -5
I cried out as he pulled at my hair, the arc of my body pulling painfully at the shoulder of the arm he still held. But at the slur on my heritage I snarled, louder than that pathetic yelp he’d elicited from me. I pulled against the fist in my hair, feeling the tiny pricks of snapping strands of hair. I swung my free arm at his side, my fist connecting solidly under his ribcage. His fist in my hair unclenched. I kicked him sharply in the shin and my wrist was free.
Grabbing each side of his face I swung his head around to look me in the eye, the dark irises gone darker with temper, “I’ll have you know I’m House born. Night Court raised. I can trace my blood back just as far as you can, Little Prince, and it’s every bit as illustrious as yours.” Then with a malicious smile I added, “And no where near as thin.”
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 18:41:37 GMT -5
My rage was coloring the world a distinct crimson, and as long as I was in the midst of it I loved it. Pain flashed before me and was gone before I even registered it, my body reacting before my mind even thought to get involved.
Her words clicked after a few moments, causing my blood to boil. My Courcel blood burning with un-Courcel rage- the epitome of what I was and was not. Quickly I pulled my face from hers and took a step back, placing a backhanded slap across her cheek. Words completely escaped me and I watched for her next move so that this contest could finally have a definite winner.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 18:50:16 GMT -5
I tasted blood. Everything was dripping with it, a bloody red that pounded in my ears. I launched myself at him wild abandon, striking out with the first weapon I had available to me, my long, well kept, finger nails. I hit his chest, the same point where I’d struck him with the crop so long ago, but my questing, tearing hands popped the top two buttons right off as I tore at his skin.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 18:55:10 GMT -5
I roared at her fingernails tearing into my skin, pleasure a faint orange tinge in the overwhelming red of the world. Blindly I grabbed her wrists and held them from my chest as I started pressing her backward against a wall using my hands on her wrists and my greater mass.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 19:06:33 GMT -5
I hit the wall with a breath stealing thud, but I did manage to keep my head from receiving the same treatment. His body pressed me hard up against the wall, my shorter frame lifted slightly by my arms, pinned above my head. I wrapped my legs around his waist, leveraging myself up a little higher. I sunk my teeth in to his shoulder where it met his neck. My pulse raced and I couldn’t help but notice how similar his blood tasted to my own.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 19:12:04 GMT -5
With a roar of pain- and a little pleasure, damn it!- I transferred my grip of her wrists to one hand as the other grabbed the back of her head by the hair, slamming it against the wall, hoping to daze her enough to release her leg's grip on my waist so I could back up and hit her. I wanted to make that smart mouth of hers bleed, to hear her scream in pain. And more.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 19:23:34 GMT -5
My cry of pain, was clipped and short, as the world swan sickeningly out of focus for a moment. I sagged against the wall until only his hand held me upright. Hand, only one. His large hands had kept me trapped but one hand. I pulled down and out with each hand, forcing his fingers apart.
One hand I curled around the bite marks still bleeding, the other I pushed down between us with the intent of causing pain. But I found myself fumbling at the laces of his breeches.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 19:36:10 GMT -5
I felt her sag around me, which brought me a little clarity, and then her hands slip free. One hand went to clutch the wound on my shoulder, causing me to hiss with pain- the other went lower, to the ties of my breeches and I growled in hunger, using my hand on th back of her head to hold her immobile as I bit harshly into her own shoulder, ripping at it with my teeth as my now-free other hand went to her back, scratching down the fabric of her gown trying to find the ties of it.
It came to my mind from a distance that this was not the way these things usually went, but the raging blood within me didn't care. Passion and lust poured out of me into the air around us, making my body burn.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 19:50:00 GMT -5
I moaned and cried out as his teeth broke my skin. Drawing his head away from my neck I brought his lips to mine, licking my own blood off his tongue. I quickly endeavored to help him with the intricate ties of my gown. As I felt the bodice loose around my body, I tore at his shirt dragging it, and my nails, up over his chest, snarling when removing his shirt necessitated breaking off the kiss, even momentarily.
Dropping my legs from around his waist I slithered out of my outer gown, leaving it in a pool around my ankles, and pressed my lips back to his.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 20:03:45 GMT -5
THe meeting of our lips was a primal, feral thing that most people wouldn't appreciate- for me it was just fine, tasting of desire and agression. My shirt came up over my head, then her outer gown was on the floor; my moans were so deep they were almost roars I pressed her roughly against the door, one hand still pressign her lips harshly against mine as the other scraped down the front of her body and across her breasts, coming to rest on the gown over the heat of her.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 20:14:12 GMT -5
His hands on me made my body burn, I shed the last of my clothing in a fit, then gave the same treatment to the breeches still loosely hanging at his hips. I ran my fingers savagely through his hair, leaving streaks of blood in his golden locks. I dragged my nails down his back in an unconscious mirroring of the tales of Naamah, before I shoved away from the wall. I tried to lead us in the direction of the bed, but the fight for the right to lead left me a little turned around and when eventually we did tumble against some furniture it turned out to a chaise.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 20:51:50 GMT -5
Picking Dominique up by her narrow waist- she seemed to weigh almost nothing- I set her forcefully on the chaise and lay atop her, nails running down her ribs as my mouth found her neck and I pinned her down with my greater weight. The taste of her flesh mixed with that of her lips and old blood excited me more than even my time with Mara had- then again, this was about adrenaline and heat and power, and nothing can be more intoxicating than that mix. My mind was still about ten steps behind me, wondering what was happening as my body was reacting, instinct and desire my only guiding forces. And it was glorious.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 23:01:24 GMT -5
I struggled against him on top of me even as I pulled him down to me. It was insane. Knowing he wanted to win made me fight even harder, it made me enjoy the fight more. It wasn’t about control, it was about winning. A hazy line at the best of times, rendered even less distinct by the heady elixir of rage and lust pumping in our veins. Over his shoulder, I watched the muscles of his back work beneath the skin, watched how each shift closed or stretched the gashes left by my nails.
His skin against me was slick with sweat and blood, and as heated as my own. The weight of him against me was driving me mad. Taking hold of his hair, I wrenched him hard towards the edge, using him to build momentum, I rolled us. The force of it actually sent the light piece of furniture skittering across the floor as we tumbled to the ground. It was his turn to have the breath driven from him as I managed to land on top. Waiting until I saw his lungs fill again I took hold of his phallus and guided him into me. Sheathing him to the hilt, hard and fast.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 23:09:49 GMT -5
The first breath that came into me after my back hit the floor exited again as a moaning roar of pleasure and outrage- she would not win this! Compulsively I thrust my hips up into her, my nails digging into the skin of her hips as I planted my feet and used my greater weight to bear us over so I would be on top, my hands leaving her hips to pin her hands against the floor.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 23:26:29 GMT -5
His movement inside of me and his nails in my hips made me cry out in a confused mix of pleasure and pain I’d given, but never before received. I was so distracted I didn’t even notice we’d moved again until the cold hard floor was beneath my back.
I couldn’t roll us again, not when he was bound and determined to keep me pinned. Not when he could focus. I just didn’t have the strength. But more maddening still was my trapped hands. I couldn’t touch him, couldn’t stroke, scratch of strike him. But I could still win.
I bound my legs around him again, trapping his hips as he’d trapped my hands. I began rocking beneath him, in smooth, skilled motions. Snarling and snapping at his beautiful face, fighting against his pinioning grip.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 18, 2006 23:34:11 GMT -5
In a mad, possibly stupid, rush of lust I let go of her hands, one hand curling in her hair to expose her neck to me and the other running over her curves with my nails, enjoying her cries and confused motions of before. My teeth closed on her neck when her legs wrapped around me and she began to move; then, my lips moved to hers, kissing her hungrily as moans and growls eminated from my throat.
Pleasure coursed through me in waves, ecstacy completely unlike any other moving though me. This was what it meant to take control, to have to fight for what you wanted! I revelled in it, letting my eyes bore into hers as my teeth pulled at her lower lip.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 18, 2006 23:56:19 GMT -5
With my hands free I hooked my arm around his neck, and pulled myself up to him. Kissing him feverishly I pushed up off the floor with my other hand, pushing him back until we were practically seated upright. Then with my elbow hooked against his neck I hauled us back to the ground, twisting and rolling as we went.
Straddling him, I continued rocking hard against him. I fisted one hand in the his hair at his temple as the other explored his chest.
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Post by Prince Christien de la Courcel on Apr 19, 2006 0:05:21 GMT -5
Her kisses tasted of destruction and desperation and I adored it; my hand in her hair joined the other at her back, scratching in pleasure and the desire to hurt. I could feel my lips bruising and starting to slightly swell at the force of our kissing, but her body above me suddenly commanded all of my attention. Her hands traced the lines of muscle on my chest as the other was curled in my fair hair, now streaked with blood.
Wrenching myself upward abruptly, ignoring the pulling pain in my hair, I took one of her nipples in my mouth, trying to distract her with pleasure so that I could gain control once again. My tongue caressed and traced it as it grew taut; then, I took it in my teeth firmly, teasing the tip with slow licks while holding her immobile my my hands on her back. My phallus moved within her deeply and with some force, feeling her depths as inarticulate pleasure.
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Post by Dominique nó Mandrake (D) on Apr 19, 2006 0:18:30 GMT -5
I moaned as his tongue flickered across my nipple, and growled as his teeth took hold of it. But I didn’t surrender to it. If anything it drove my swaying hips to greater action. My muscles closed around his phallus, drawing him as deeply into me as was possible at each thrust. Clasping him to me with the hand not tangled in his hair, I drove my nails deep into his shoulder, opposite my bite mark.
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