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Sharp eyes watch your face, hunting for your reactions.
Even though you´re not the one being played with today.
You pull a crimson ribbon secured around Vere´s throat. The loop tightens enough to make him pause. His lips part, revealing a glint of fangs. Despite his attempts to appear indifferent, a shaky sigh leaves his mouth. The echo lingers in the charged space between you.
What a lovely tool, this wicked piece of silk coiled around your gloved hand.
Straddling Vere´s lap, your thighs lock his legs beneath you. You shift a little, a promise of slight friction turning into something much more intense makes you both a bit light-headed. Fine, translucent clothing separating your bodies creates only a meagre divide.
Both of your usual flamboyant garments are too thin and you feel every motion, every change.
You are almost used to each other by now. Navigating the decaying world, challenging boundaries of shadow and Shroud seems easier with the Monster by your side. It is definitely more comfortable to ride the fearsome fox while you travel the expanse of the suffocated plains riddled with the Soulless.
Your curse remains and as long as that is the case, the demonic entity under you stays with you. He owes you his help, doesn´t he?
His assurances might sound dubious but he seems to have taken a shine to your peculiar ways.
Tonight it´s only you and him and the subtle sizzling of a dying candle on the bedside table. One of the multitude of your shelters becomes your secret playground for the moment. You´re close enough to almost forget about the danger. But isn´t your companion the most insidious of dangers? Your thoughts fracture and fall away when you inhale delicate, inviting scent of his skin.
You catch yourself. None of that.
His ears twitch, the majestic tail sways. Vere must have recognized your momentary weakness.
You rock your hips gently, reminding him. You feel the man stiffen under you, hard pressure against your inner thigh.
Vere growls when you loosen hold on the kinder sort of leash than what he had been used to: "So bold."
"So helpless," you smile.
You both know he´s anything but. Despite his misleading appearance he is incomparably stronger than you. There is also that small advantage of shapeshifting, unhindered now that the spell is gone.
His wrists twist behind his back, tied up tightly together by another of your red bindings. Lovely to look at and much firmer than one might imagine. The fabric may seem flimsy but the spell holds not unlike a steel grip. The familiar duality pleases you. The contrast of ethereal beauty and cold strength is often something to die for, isn´t it?
Your magical skills grew in the vicinity of Shroud. You learn, you become. You enjoy watching Vere struggle. Surprised by the unexpected addition his expression darkens but you detect mischief behind.
He couldn´t have thought you´d go into this sorely unprepared.
It wouldn´t be fun having him bound if he didn´t have to put up any fight.
"What game are you playing now?" he hisses, canines visible in a dangerous smirk.
"You like games, you said so yourself. It wouldn´t be a challenge otherwise. And I couldn´t rely on your honor alone. We both know that trait of yours isn´t of a paragon kind."
"Smart. Yet you also know I can just..." His form shifts, shadows swirl, night around you suddenly deepens. You remain calm, tightening the grip on the provisional leash, unwavering. Your breath skips for a moment but he doesn´t have to know that. He´s too busy experiencing his own high when your makeshift collar takes his breath away again.
You move, hips rolling, thighs squeezing, promises, promises which a body can make.
Your mouth stops to hover over his lips: "I believe you wouldn´t want to disappoint me."
He would love to break free, grab your ass and put you in your place. He would love to close elegant fingers around your throat and show you how to stay short of breath. He´d have you on your knees, withdrawing and then prolonging your pleasure indefinitely, cruel and self-satisfied as only he can be. You´d be pleading and whimpering in no time. You probably will soon.
But there is something enticing about the roles not being set in stone. With those dissolved, there are no masters, just the ever-changing currents of power between you.
In this moment, he has to behave. And he will, for you.
He even likes to behave when the incentive is sufficient.
You press against him once more. And then you pull and twist the broad strip of silk. It hugs his neck nicely, cutting off oxygen and blood flow in one smooth motion. Vere trembles, small moans trickle from luscious lips as if on command. Loose hair fall over half-closed eyes. Blush covers his cheeks quite timidly.
The control, the volatile power you both wield over each other, the balance of the dagger set over a chasm – it´s what keeps you cautious, always cautious, your bond taut like this ribbon, deceptively soft but cunning when put to good use.
"Give me a bit more, hmm?" you whisper to him, encouraging and taunting all at once.
A few breathless moments. Twist tighter. Loosen again. Twist once more. You know how he feels. Magic inside your tethers is taking more than just blood and air or ability to move freely.
It allows him to reclaim his desires.
He´s not a prisoner anymore.
A different collar and leash ~ this willingness to be yours right now but maybe never again – he lets it happen. This is his choice.
You know he could hurt you and he knows you could do the same to him. Maybe that´s where this tentative trust comes in.
Fingertips of your free hand in snug leather glove trail the window of the naked skin on his chest, over his collarbone and follow the pulse up to his nape, decisively tugging at dark red tresses. You feel him shiver but he won´t budge immediately. To admit right away how much power you have over him would probably be too steep of a compromise.
He laughs into the crook of your neck, a gentle treacherous sound: "My little mage craves a piece of control. Why don´t you relent and ride me properly instead?" His voice falls low and you swallow any unbecoming sounds. Your fist closes on the silken leash. Fangs graze flesh of your bare shoulder---
Pull.
Strict.
Intentional.
Backed by a sharp undercurrent of your magic the act is almost merciless.
Vere´s laughter falters when you grind down on his lap, rolling forward once, twice, thrice.
His body tenses up.
He lets you have this win against his better judgment, slipping out of his distant and smug demeanor.
"You can have this. Me. Just don´t stop." The words are laced with badly hidden desperation.
"Will you be good?"
"Am I ever?"
You kiss him, slower, deeper than you have planned. He tastes like rare spices and fresh herbs. Like freedom and wilderness. And he makes such lovely sounds.
You break the kiss to let your fingers trace his lips and then slide them inside his mouth, loosening the ribbon only to pull harder instantly. He moans around your fingers, licking the fine thin leather, sharp fangs catching at the fabric. If it could be your skin, if you could just touch him as you are. Maybe one day---
Your fingertips hit the back of his throat, careless for a single moment. Vere accepts, his tail bristling weakly.
Your mind oscillates between adoring care and raw desire to choke him until you find his limit. There must be one.
"So pretty. You want something. You will only get that if you give me something first."
Vere bites his lower lip when you slowly drag your hand back down between your bodies to slip under his clothes. He´s already pushing up into your palm in pure want, hips bucking.
Everything about his behavior seems soft and pliant now and you keep your wits awake. Your touch remains measured, teasing, enough to drive one crazy but too scarce to get him anywhere anytime soon. You take his breath away again while grasping him tighter, then let go. With satisfaction and anticipation, you watch his beautiful face change. The sight of him this vulnerable and sweet makes you crave him even more.
"More, please...?" It´s an earnest plea and a hungry request.
He wants, freely. He asks, freely. Ribbons keep him bound in place and euphorically dizzy.
Your hand caresses, giving a drop of attention before taking all stimulation away.
"Would you repeat that for me?"
Lost in the expectation of pleasure, Vere´s eyes fill with startling tears as he tries to rub himself against your hand and the prison of your warm thighs. You wish to hold him down and melt his mind for tonight but he has to ask. And so you touch again and let the decadent loop of silk cut off vital sources at the same time. Your magic reinforces, rewrites the experience as you talk to him, counting the seconds until you let him breathe (ten, nine, eight, seven, six), until you let the blood flow back (five, four, three, two), until you allow him to say (one) ~
"Let me fuck you, please. Or fuck me, I don´t care, just... more, please."
His voice comes out broken into mindless gasps.
You nod and smile: "That is what I like to hear."