Divergence: The Vampire Queen

The drawing room (part 2)

She took a quick breath and dove back into the kiss, placing her hand on his cheek and pulling his face to hers. She pressed her body as close as she could to his. Her pulse raced, and tingles shot down her spine. He was enchanting, intoxicating, and being so close, she yearned for him again. Even the simplest kiss seemed to make her blood boil with desire.

How had this happened? Overnight lust had swallowed her up whole, and she'd fallen hard for a man that, albeit her husband, she barely knew. How could she be this infatuated with him? How had he bewitched her so quickly. In that moment, the why and how didn't matter nearly as much as his lips and tongue did. She pried them open and delved into his mouth, drinking him in.

The girl was insatiable, jumping on him like a fox jumped on a rabbit. He felt her body press into his, her breasts press against his chest. Their tongues danced with each other, and he felt the fire ignite in his loins. His hands roamed from her back down to her hips and then to her rear, giving a good squeeze.

He cursed her dress and the level of difficulty it took to get it on and off. His want for her only rising to the point he considered tearing the clothes off her against his better nature. Instead, he kept kissing and kissing, having no need to break for air and revelling in the electric feel of her lips against his.

He knew no one would come into the room and disturb them. It was well known that he did not like to be disturbed unless it was an absolute emergency, and he could not think of any reason today might be the day for one. He kept squeezing and tantalizing her, eventually remembering that she needed to breathe and parting their lips. He couldn't help but wonder if her heavy breaths were from arousal or lack of air, perhaps both.

Marcello did not reengage and waited to see if she would round on him again, playing with the lace that kept her dress tied at the back suggestively. He was testing her. Just how voracious was she? How badly did she truly want him?

She'd thought she might faint before he finally broke the kiss, but she sure as hell would not be the one to do it. She panted, breasts heaving as he did, gulping air. As she caught her breath, his hands did not cease their exploration of her body, and as they hovered over her corset's laces, she trembled beneath him.

After a long moment, she pressed her lips back onto his, gripping the back of his neck to pull him down to her and her up to him. Her mouth tore at his, as though her very life depended on that kiss. With her free hand, she reached around behind herself, taking his hand in her own and tugging at the laces. Of course, it wasn't as if untying them would magically make the dress fall off, but it at least was a subtle way of say she wanted it to.

She could loosen the laces completely if he so desired, but she wanted to give him a chance to undress her. Once releasing his own hand, hers roamed around to his front, grazing over the outline of his member within the pants. Her fingers felt as though they were on fire as she stroked it through the fabric. Just touching it, even with his britches still on, made her folds grow wet with desire.

He quickly realised she wanted the dress off and had begun undoing the lacing. He had almost finished when she suddenly she grazed his manhood. That was the final straw. Marcello tugged roughly at the dress, using his supernatural strength, ripping it from her body. He could wait no longer and properly untie his gift, instead he tore off the wrapping roughly, ready to enjoy it.

He pulled away from her lips once more to behold her in her semi-clothed state. Immediately, he grabbed her underthings and tore them open as well, freeing her breasts and leaving her bare before him. Leaning back in to kiss her deeply, his hands kneaded her breasts, loving the sense of power he felt from the pleasure he gave her. There was nothing more gratifying than her trembling body, moaning and aching for him.