making jokes, telling me about his night. Sharing his evening's conversations, his business plans, his optimism over a contract he was about to sign. His eyes were shining an amazing combination of colours; indigo, violet, amethyst. All the shades I had come to adore.
He was attentive and entertaining. I felt so loved and complete and... home. He stood and took my hand, asking me to dance. Michel was such a wonderful dancer, it always felt like I was flying when wrapped up in his arms. Several beautiful moments passed as I was cradled next to him and twirled around the dance floor, then his head bent slowly, his eyes holding onto mine, a glint of hunger and desire flashing in their depths. I craved what was about to happen, the clubroom fell away, only Michel in close proximity, his heat, his feather-like touch, his fangs.
I floated on the sensations he was sending me through the connection of his bite. I barely registered he'd moved us to his chamber, stripped our clothes and laid me on the bed. He licked his fang marks closed, his eyes coming up to hold my gaze and then slowly entered me. I revelled in the feel of his body inside mine, the move of his naked skin against my feverish flesh. The build of one orgasm, followed by another and another. The increase in speed, his breathing becoming uneven, his moans of pleasure louder, his muscled thighs between mine. His beautifully moulded butt in my hands. Then finally, I celebrated his release, wanting nothing more than Michel to be as wrapped up in the moment as I was, as sated as he had made me.
That beautiful scene in Michel's chamber slowly disintegrated around me and with it the last of my happiness and hope.
Avery was sitting very still across from me in a chair opposite my couch, in Copacabana. His rapid breathing and steely gaze the only indication that he had witnessed what I had. My own breath had stilled. I was as tight as a bow string, ready to break at a single touch.
“They will use any ruse necessary to convince you of what is happening,” he said, a little roughly. “They will even take the time to seduce you. Time is irrelevant to them. They are practically immortal. A half hour, an hour, they will gladly attempt to make you more pliable. The Dökkálfa will take your courage, love, hope and happiness - whatever emotion the illusion creates they will consume - and they will enjoy every ounce of pain that they leave in their wake. The Ljósálfar will make love to you through your mind and then spirit you away to Álfheimr to hand you over to your Ljósálfar Prince, if you are lucky. Or simply pillage your body themselves while you are no longer aware.”
I ran a hand through my hair and glanced up at the clock. We'd only been at this for an hour, but I was already exhausted. My emotions a mixed up bag of raw nerves. But, I wouldn't let this better me. I wouldn't hide away in my flat, alter my routine because I was scared. I'd been hiding from a lot of things lately. I was getting a little tired of it, truth be told.
Before I even had a chance to answer Avery, he hit my mind again. This time he made me believe I was in bed dreaming. The sheets wrapped around my naked thighs. I could feel the soft breeze coming through the windows and hear the slow tick of my wall clock in the room. He'd found a memory, one I didn't want him to have. But, because he had never seen it before, I initially couldn't put what was happening down to Avery. It felt like a dream. I was dreaming. And Michel was making love to me on the hill above my parents' farm.
I don't know what tipped me off that this wasn't real. Wasn't even a dream. But, something instinctive did kick in. Maybe the low hum from the back of mind. My inner monologue finally making some noise after being absent for the past two months. The humming a reminder that life was not as I knew it right now and to stay on guard.
I immediately threw my Light around me and came to back on the couch.
“Very good, Ms.
He was attentive and entertaining. I felt so loved and complete and... home. He stood and took my hand, asking me to dance. Michel was such a wonderful dancer, it always felt like I was flying when wrapped up in his arms. Several beautiful moments passed as I was cradled next to him and twirled around the dance floor, then his head bent slowly, his eyes holding onto mine, a glint of hunger and desire flashing in their depths. I craved what was about to happen, the clubroom fell away, only Michel in close proximity, his heat, his feather-like touch, his fangs.
I floated on the sensations he was sending me through the connection of his bite. I barely registered he'd moved us to his chamber, stripped our clothes and laid me on the bed. He licked his fang marks closed, his eyes coming up to hold my gaze and then slowly entered me. I revelled in the feel of his body inside mine, the move of his naked skin against my feverish flesh. The build of one orgasm, followed by another and another. The increase in speed, his breathing becoming uneven, his moans of pleasure louder, his muscled thighs between mine. His beautifully moulded butt in my hands. Then finally, I celebrated his release, wanting nothing more than Michel to be as wrapped up in the moment as I was, as sated as he had made me.
That beautiful scene in Michel's chamber slowly disintegrated around me and with it the last of my happiness and hope.
Avery was sitting very still across from me in a chair opposite my couch, in Copacabana. His rapid breathing and steely gaze the only indication that he had witnessed what I had. My own breath had stilled. I was as tight as a bow string, ready to break at a single touch.
“They will use any ruse necessary to convince you of what is happening,” he said, a little roughly. “They will even take the time to seduce you. Time is irrelevant to them. They are practically immortal. A half hour, an hour, they will gladly attempt to make you more pliable. The Dökkálfa will take your courage, love, hope and happiness - whatever emotion the illusion creates they will consume - and they will enjoy every ounce of pain that they leave in their wake. The Ljósálfar will make love to you through your mind and then spirit you away to Álfheimr to hand you over to your Ljósálfar Prince, if you are lucky. Or simply pillage your body themselves while you are no longer aware.”
I ran a hand through my hair and glanced up at the clock. We'd only been at this for an hour, but I was already exhausted. My emotions a mixed up bag of raw nerves. But, I wouldn't let this better me. I wouldn't hide away in my flat, alter my routine because I was scared. I'd been hiding from a lot of things lately. I was getting a little tired of it, truth be told.
Before I even had a chance to answer Avery, he hit my mind again. This time he made me believe I was in bed dreaming. The sheets wrapped around my naked thighs. I could feel the soft breeze coming through the windows and hear the slow tick of my wall clock in the room. He'd found a memory, one I didn't want him to have. But, because he had never seen it before, I initially couldn't put what was happening down to Avery. It felt like a dream. I was dreaming. And Michel was making love to me on the hill above my parents' farm.
I don't know what tipped me off that this wasn't real. Wasn't even a dream. But, something instinctive did kick in. Maybe the low hum from the back of mind. My inner monologue finally making some noise after being absent for the past two months. The humming a reminder that life was not as I knew it right now and to stay on guard.
I immediately threw my Light around me and came to back on the couch.
“Very good, Ms.
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