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To Be with One's Own Kind
Topic Started: Feb 20 2008, 11:05 AM (322 Views)
Morgane Duvray
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7th Year Prefect/Half-Vampire
The door rapped loudly. Three small knocks followed by two louder ones. The grandfather clock read 7:30. It was easy to tell it was an expensive ornament to the well furnished room, made of sleek oak wood and was perhaps even hand made. Morgane was indeed satisfied with the hotel suite.

It was well maintained, made for the richest delegates and was not something everyone could afford. Carpeted in lush maroon, the padding was soft to walk on, a little too extravagant for the female’s liking that was so accustomed to simplicity. A king sized bed, with four pillars draped in black silk created a cozy canopy for it’s occupants. Cream-colored silk sheets were tucked in neatly, with maroon pillows stuffed with the softest feathers. On the pillow, mint chocolates and a bunch of fresh lavenders waited to be enjoyed. Large French windows occupied the entire length of one side of the wall. The female had left them open, and the wind gently rocked the black lacy drapes. Outside, a small verandah overlooked the city, from 34 floors above. A luxurious bathroom was attacked, with a Jacuzzi taking up much of the area. The taps and sinks were laced in gold décor, and the same maroon towels and bathrobe hung behind the door. A TV hung against another part of the wall, and next to it a large oak table, with a plush armchair waited to be sat on.

The female glanced at her reflection one more time before opening the door to her expected guest. Raven hair silkily hung across her naked shoulders, glossy and radiant. Her eyes were lightly outlined with kohl, and the rest of her face remained untouched. The palest of skin, with the lightest shade of pink tainted her lips. The seventh year was dressed in a leather corset that hugged her firm breasts up, adding the slight heaviness that her flat chest usually indicated. A red lace tied it up together, tightly, the way a woman during the Victorian Era would wear as undergarments. A short skirt draped her legs, the leather material clinging to her toned thighs. It didn’t do a fine job in hiding her skin, for the skirt stopped short a couple of inches down her thighs. Her legs were snug in the black leather boots that she usually wore in the castle. Her thin frame hung momentarily behind the door, hesitating and slightly nervous. Cautiously holding on to the gold knob, she turned it slowly.

The gorgeous male stood, his structure leaning on the wall, like someone bored from waiting would stand. His blond hair drooped just the way it had a few years back, and it felt like he hadn’t changed at all.

“Morgane,” he finally said, smirking as he spoke. His green eyes eyed her from her toes to eyes studying her closely. Perhaps wondering whether she too had changed.

“It’s been a while.”

The prefect didn’t have much time to reply, for her lips were captured in a kiss as the male pushed her into the suite.

“When you wrote last Thursday,” he whispered hoarsely, wrapping muscular arms around her petite waist. “…I was…I can’t explain. It’s been a wonder you’ve waited so long…you know me, I don’t have that willpower.”

They were against the wall now, and his chest crushed onto hers, his hands holding hers against the wall. For a moment, they stopped kissing, and their eyes met.
“It has been too long for me to wait,” she finally replied. “I needed you, not some weak human male who would crush if I grew slightly too passionate. I needed you, to relieve me of this throbbing ache.”

“Speak no more, then. You’re wasting time,” he whispered into her ear, nibbling at her right lobe as she fought to pull away.

Her arms were draped around him, one hand caressing the back of his neck, the other fingering it’s way down to the hem of his pants. Suddenly he grew vicious as he felt her trying to gain control, she’s forgotten it was the one thing Lyde liked more than anything. She let go, willing herself to get kissed over and over again. His hand moved behind her back, and he held her tight there, the free arm silkily moving up to her chest. Goosebumps grew down her arms, and finally she felt, free. She could be as much of a creature as she liked, he was enough, more than enough to keep her in control if she overdid it. Gnawing at his collarbone, Lyde was two steps ahead of her. His slim fingers were undoing the ribbon, nearly tearing the fragile thing apart.
It was coming loose, and Morgane immediately felt like she could breath much easier. He pulled it apart, letting it fall to the floor. His arm encircled her chest, hugging it close to his, while the other pulled her feet from the ground. Kissing her deeply, Morgane let them last long and fierce. For Vampires didn’t need to breath. He laid her slowly to the bed, the expanse of her hair entangling itself in loopy swirls. From his pocket, he took out apiece of thick rope, tying up her wrists without her knowing. She yelped when she soon realized, pulling him down with her teeth. Unzipping his pants with her mouth, he helped her, removing it swiftly and throwing it onto the ground.
It was at that moment when the door knocked.

This time, simply two hard ones.

“Are we expecting guests?” Lyde said in his velvety tone.

“Not that I know of.”
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