|
Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
56 likes
Zloty.
|
|
last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
Guardian
|
|
|
Apr 2, 2012 16:47:31 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Apr 2, 2012 16:47:31 GMT -5
Ambient Running a single finger on his collarbone, she gently dragged it all the way to his neck, finally letting it come to a halt on his cheek. Danica caressed the man's...No, not a human. How she could have forgotten about so basic thing. Even his kisses were different, the impression of long fangs was something that took time to get used to and yet the familiarity his body reacted had pushed any thoughts of his origin away. For someone like her; someone raised in a sterile human environment this was a true discovery. Warm breath whisked by the girl's cheek, betraying not only her was affected by their games of passion. Aurelius let out a chuckle, this time not to goad her with mockery but a genuine satisfaction and warmth. It caused a small amount of tension to build up in already worn muscles. ”A name...It's Danica.” She shrugged in his arms, not feeling the secrecy was that important anymore. Just a silly name, not even what most of people used around her. It was Miss Liviana for nearly everyone. The Firrerreo's hand moved through her hair, now slightly damp with sweat of both their bodies joined. This tiny action comforted the young woman, and Danica felt at peace with not just Aurelius, but at that very moment, the entire world and possibly herself too. It didn't last long, however as the stirring of fear and guilt forced her to move away. ”Again? You want to kill me?” She frowned a little and looked away; but not for long as to Danica's irritation her eyes didn't want to move from beautifully sculpted body. And this color...Like a gilded predator that lured its victim with hypnotizing looks. But you will discard me, one way or another... The thought made her feel uneasy and very fragile. Right now the woman really felt fragile as if she could physically be broken into several little pieces that would be swept away by some merciless god. Danica closed her eyes as the panic was trying to crawl into her veins. ”What is right...?” She asked, shaking her head. Painfully aware of own vulnerability, the woman wrapped her arms around her naked form. ”It's nothing. Stress, alcohol, lack of sleep.” And the fact you pretend to care. Danica bit down on her tongue to stop the thought of spilling out. What was the point? He would be gone soon enough. ”Why do you care? You got what you wanted.” Her melodic voice did not falter but had an obvious heartbreaking tone of despair to it, no matter how much the woman tried to conceal it at that very moment. The assassin wasn't suppose to be like that: caring, gentle. Was this .. what kind of trickery was this? Leading her into a false sense of safety?
|
|
|
|
|
Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
|
|
last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Apr 2, 2012 20:35:13 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Apr 2, 2012 20:35:13 GMT -5
"Danica..." Nieraan said softly.
Finally, there was a name to put to this woman. The Firrerreo didn't know a lot about names, but it seemed... appropriate, to him. As appropriate as a name could be, anyway.
”Again? You want to kill me?”
Nieraan laughed softly, fingers still tangling themselves in Danica's hair as she looked away from him. "Not intentionally," he muttered lightly, his voice very near to something that almost sounded playful. "But there would be worse ways to go..."
He was playing with her, of course. For the most part. If he'd wanted to go again, he could, but if she wasn't feeling it, there wasn't much point.
Even as he gently tousled her hair and teased like a friend, he noticed how much his mood had lightened. For once, he was fine just honestly playing with someone. He was content to lay there, beside her. Even his skin was a rich shade of gold that he hadn't turned in years, if not longer. For once, he almost felt as young as he looked.
What was it, that had awakened the other side of him, the side that he constantly repressed because he needed strength?
He pushed those thoughts out of his mind as Danica turned her face away from him, then turned back with eyes that roamed his bare form.
She spoke again, brushing off his question as she hugged herself. He felt another shiver run through her, with their bodies so close together, felt her tensing up again. In the Force, he could feel conflicting emotions. Doubt. Fear.
What is she afraid of?
”Why do you care? You got what you wanted.”
Nieraan's brow knitted slightly. Why did he care? She was right; he'd gotten what he wanted. And for all he knew, once the next day came and they split ways, he might never see her again.
She was just another face in the crowd. A stranger, who'd be blown away on the winds of chance and fate as soon as he left Naboo.
So why care?
Nieraan thought for a few quiet moments. His fingers drifted gently along her side, feeling soft, smooth skin as his hand moved lightly down to her thigh...
"I just wonder why you're so tense...," he said softly, looking over at the woman next to him. "I... thought you might still be afraid of me. Or afraid of something." Nieraan sighed, letting his hand leave her as he stretched a bit where he lay.
"it's just a little strange," he continued, "since there's nothing here to be afraid of."
|
|
|
|
|
Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
56 likes
Zloty.
|
|
last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
Guardian
|
|
|
Apr 3, 2012 4:34:40 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Apr 3, 2012 4:34:40 GMT -5
The way he spoke her name was unnerving. Softly as if it was a precious jewel. Inside her a turmoil of rebellious feelings grew. ”Just a name.” She shrugged, voicing her thoughts. ”At least it's my true one.” The woman added with a sigh, not really sure if she wanted to tease him or was plainly angry about it. Light touches that run through Danica's hair left goosebumps on her neck. She thought of how impossibly amazing the assassin's skin color became, getting nearly a metallic shin to it. It's texture was smooth but marked with scars. The girl could feel her fingertips brushing against them while her nails had dug down into Aurelius' back.
What he said caused a small frown to appear on the woman's fair features, but it was quickly replaced by a look of trembling pleasure as the man's fingers trailed her body. ”Afraid? Don't be foolish.” Strange mixture of irritation and growing desire. Her mood swung again, as the need to push away the unpleasant feeling of guilt and anxiety. Sometimes her mind was like an angry ocean with unpredictable tides and undercurrents. ”I don't want to talk.” Danica pushed the assassin's hand with visible irritation only to kiss him feverishly a moment later. It was obvious the woman didn't want to talk anymore; whether because it was only forcing her to admit things she avoided or a proximity of the handsome Firrerreo was taking over her senses once again. or just the girl didn't want to think too much.
A pink tongue ran itself over slick, freshly brushed pearly whites. The bathroom accommodations were not as luxurious as rest of the club, since it was the area for the staff and not guests but it had running water and even a shower. Danica stretched sore muscles. It seemed that every inch of her body was screaming from being pressed against every possible surface in the club. The floor,the counter, a table...another table and even the shower's wall. The sleepy dawn had long awoken, leaving only three hours before her flight.
Her gaze fell on the closed doors and a tight knot formed in the woman's throat. She made sure they wouldn't have time to talk much aside from couple of words spoken in the heat of passion, enjoying every moment of the given time, but now there was no escape unless Aurelius was already gone. Danica couldn't decide what was more scary. Nibbling on a lacquered nail, green eyes looked hesitantly down the dismal and empty hallway leading to the main room. She was just too afraid to go there.
|
|
|
|
|
Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
|
|
last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Apr 16, 2012 22:30:15 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Apr 16, 2012 22:30:15 GMT -5
Nieraan sat in one of the plush, heavily-cushioned chairs in the main room of the club. Some song he didn't recognize played away, electronically thrumming softly in the background.
He was partially dressed now, and thankfully free of that infernal, oversized tuxedo. His armor's pants fit comfortably around his waist, and he was once again in the close-fitting sleeveless shirt he wore beneath the light curiass. His feet were as bare to the cool, crisp air as his arms.
There was still a certain dampness to his hair; it hadn't been long ago that he'd gone to take a shower, thinking he was done with Danica after putting her through a few more rounds. Then he'd happened on her in the showers, and they'd engaged one last time.
He could tell she was tired, but she kept up just fine.
After that, they'd split up. She stayed in the back, and Nieraan returned to the main room and put some clothes on again.
In the time since, he'd sat in his chair, lightsaber turning slowly above his hand while he thought to himself. There was subtle burn, a gentle fatigue that rested deep in his muscles from the night's activities, but despite that, he was rather content. For once--for what felt like the first time in an age--his skin was still gold. Not the deep, lustrous gold that it'd reached as he laid with Danica; it was more subdued and subtle now. But it was still there, as surely as he breathed.
The night had provided a welcome relief for the Firrerreo, who still felt the stress of knowing that his mother--whom he'd presumed dead for years--still walked the Galaxy's streets. Perhaps he'd released a bit of frustration, but he was more at ease now. For now.
For this moment.
It won't last.
It couldn't last. In a short while he would leave Danica and they would go their separate ways. Chances were they'd never see each other again, but the Kamirille problem would be waiting on him. And until he found a way to deal with her, it was a very dire problem, and one that would only grow worse with time, knowing his mother.
Nieraan sighed softly, lifting his head as the song faded and blended into another. He could feel Danica, still off in the back of the club somewhere. The lightsaber fell into Nieraan's palm and he stood, clipping the weapon to his belt as he briskly turned around. He padded silently back to the back, through a pair of double doors and toward Danica's presence.
She was there, nibbling on a nail. Nieraan wasn't sure if she'd been trying to hide from him; by now she surely had to know that he could find her as easily as if she had a big sign over her head.
Nieraan stopped as he neared her, lips turned up just barely in a subconscious hint of a smile. "So the sun's beginning to rise again." It should have felt strange knowing that--knowing they'd spent as much time together as they had. But strangely, it didn't.
"How long do you intend to stay here?"
|
|
|
|
|
Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
56 likes
Zloty.
|
|
last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
Guardian
|
|
|
Apr 17, 2012 4:08:58 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Apr 17, 2012 4:08:58 GMT -5
(( Ambient - Cheesy, lovey-dovey post requires music ;D )) The nail broke off, leaving sharp pain in the finger. Few droplets of blood blood trickled down her slender digit. Danica winced but upon seeing Aurelius coming closer, she tugged the hand away, behind her back. Green orbs watched the Firrerreo with a mixture of fear and longing. Big, stupid country boy ... She summed him up quietly but the desire didn't want to go away. The golden skinned man looked her straight in the eye, his small smile tugging at her heart-strings until she felt ill from the growing expectation of inevitable loss. It was a bad idea, random encounters, she should have known better, even not having any of that before. It left a woman attached, in her case – to a heartless killer. Danica thought of the previous relationship, all three of them that had fallen apart every time. If by some miracle the man would stay, what were the chances of making it work. Their worlds were entirely different, literally and metaphorically. Holding back the bitter retort on the tip of her tongue, the human simply frowned. He seemed happy, comfortable and content. Looked less tired than her, that's for sure which caused pangs of irritation to gnaw at Danica. But the woman had voiced her dissatisfaction about little things enough since their meeting, now wasn't the time to complain. It was time for goodbye. She reached her hand to touch Aurelius' clothed chest, enjoying firm musculature of his body. Shame and embarrassment were gone now, once Danica came to terms with what had happened, deciding to stuff away the guilt. Lock it in a box along with others unpleasant emotions – fear, sadness. As her hand traveled up the Firrerreo's chest up to his neck and still slightly damp hair, she tried to figure out what to say. There was no appropriate word or phrase, nothing witty would come to her tired mind. ”Not long...” The woman said with a tired sigh. Digging her fingers in a mess of black and blue hair. ”An hour, maybe less.” She added thoughtfully, moving closer, trying to embracing the man before her, put her head on his chest. Danica hated the state of vulnerability Aurelius had awoken. Don't leave me. Crept into her thoughts, the need burning brightly but she wouldn't voice it, shutting her eyelids tightly instead. ”You look good in gold.” The woman purred, maybe for the first time giving him an honest, straightforward compliment. Her own body was creamy pale pink, bearing small scoffs and bruises from the night's activities. It only added to Danica's image of a fragile porcelain doll; ready to break under the smallest pressure. ”I...I think...” Why it was suddenly so difficult to speak? ”I should get dressed, finally.” Danica was getting cold in only her underwear but despite the clear declaration, the woman did little to pry herself from the Firrerreo, enjoying warmth and mutual closeness that would come to an end in a matter of moments. He was a murdered, a mercenary, an assassin and God only knew what else but it mattered so little right now. Instability of Danica's emotional functioning rarely was more than obvious in such moments, so easily forgetting what the man had done.
|
|
|
|
|
Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
|
|
last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Apr 21, 2012 11:05:45 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Apr 21, 2012 11:05:45 GMT -5
Something hung in the air between the two of them. Nieraan's question was answered by a brush of anticipation, and further, by silence as Danica looked at him.
On one level, he could feel her watching him. Waiting to see if he'd do anything else so that she could judge how to properly react.
On another, he could feel her inspecting him again. His powerful chest, the hard, immaculately defined muscles of his side and stomach--these were still visible, even wearing his shirt; it was so thin and form-fitting that it hardly hid anything. And his finely-defined arms, from fingertips to striated shoulders, were as bare as they'd been when he lay with her only a short while ago.
That was only the surface of what he felt from her, and expected by now. Even though she'd seen the whole of him, from the crown to heel, he caught her eye. That, he was used to.
What he felt beneath that, not from her eyes, but from her heart, he was not.
The fear was still there. Their time together had quieted it from the dominant force that it'd been earlier in the night, but still a part remained. Perhaps it was a different sort of fear now. She'd been with him at his most vulnerable, and he with her; what else did she have to fear from him.
Nieraan thought with a bit of wry amusement that she might fear that he planned to mount her again. It was tempting, looking at her dressed the way she was, but no, they'd had enough for a night.
For several nights...
But over the fear, he felt something he hadn't really felt all night from her: longing. Not the flaring, passionate longing that came in their moments of intimacy or the quiet, restrained attraction he knew she felt when she set eyes on him. This was different; it was harder to feel, but he could feel it, and he knew what it was.
In truth, it scared him a little bit. Since when did anyone feel that toward him?
Since when did he let his harsh barriers down enough for anyone to have a chance?
Danica approached him, put a hand on his hard chest as he waited for an answer. Her hand worked up his chest, past his muscled neck and into his thick, shaggy hair as their eyes met.
" ”Not long...” She said finally. Her fingers--not for the first time--caught in his thick mane. It'd been so long since they worked to tame it for his disguise; it'd long since rebelled and reverted to its naturally unruly state. ”An hour, maybe less.”
Nieraan nodded quietly as she pressed herself against his body and embraced him. He didn't fight it, quietly thankful that she--that anyone--felt the longing for him that she did. He returned the favor, putting his arms around her with a subtle, gentle strength beneath his soft touch.
”You look good in gold,” Danica purred into his chest, as longing bloomed in her presence.
Nieraan chuckled quietly. "Is that so?" Silently, he cursed that his senses were so acute, so honed as they were. The night wasn't supposed to end like this. He was supposed to take his reward from her, and they were supposed to go their separate ways.
Why, so close to the end, was she going to make that split more difficult than it had to be?
”I...I think... I should get dressed, finally.”
Nieraan muttered something, but he didn't let her go. And she still clung to him, so she didn't seem to be in any particular rush.
A few moments passed like that, and he lifted a finger from her slender waist to her chin, lifting it from his chest and turning her face to his. His lips were there for hers, and he took her with a kiss before she could object. It was a real kiss, one born of passion and desire. As he held it, his body relaxed beneath her touch and then tensed. Before he fully realized what he was doing he'd pushed her back several steps, until she was pressed lightly against a wall. In the heat of the moment, his embrace had grown stronger, his kiss more intense and wildly passionate. He didn't even notice that his hands had fallen to her hips and were pulling them against his own...
And then, all of a sudden, he stopped. Nieraan pulled away, suddenly aware of what was happening and surprisingly short of words and breath. He backed away from Danica, eyes on hers and feeling suddenly unsure of himself and what he was doing.
With a resigned, unsteady sigh, he turned around, putting his back to her and ran a hand through his thick hair. "You probably should," he muttered, finally responding to her earlier statement.
Silence hung in the air. Uncomfortable, accursed silence.
"If you ever need a job done..." Nieraan started slowly, looking cautiously at her from the corner of an eye. "There are ways to find me."
He turned around, still feeling a tension in his muscles. "I can't promise that I'll always be available, but..."
|
|
|
|
|
Poludnica
Most likely to snow ticket
891 posts
56 likes
Zloty.
|
|
last online Dec 15, 2020 12:26:45 GMT -5
Guardian
|
|
|
Apr 22, 2012 15:34:32 GMT -5
Post by Poludnica on Apr 22, 2012 15:34:32 GMT -5
Pearly teeth flashed in anger when the thought of rejection appeared across the forefront of her mind with painfully stark clarity but the Firrerreo didn't move away. His arms came to lock the woman in a tight embrace. For a brief moment Danica could feel something, something very odd stirring in her. A small string of alien feelings, as if her emotions were not the only thing there but it didn't scare the woman this time. It made the girl to reminiscence of past, these short while when she had been safe.
A gentle touch of the man's finger coming to her chin forced Danica to pry the attention away from the familiar old memories and their bittersweet nostalgia. It seemed the last night was not enough as her body immediately responded with delicate shudder of pleasure. Glittering eyes the shade of Coruscant singular ocean flashed as they stared into Aurelius' sun-flared irises, tempestuous and exotic. Their unnatural hue stopped bothering Danica all of the sudden as she bit down on hungry lips, trying to hold back the spontaneous reaction.
As if reading her thoughts, the assassin moved closer, placing a sensual kiss with which the woman didn't fight. His reactions and body felt so familiar by now, its responses like a well known cipher and every scar marked by her fingertips. Danica sighed softly at the burning passion. He was losing control, they were both losing it in another wave of desire but there was something new underneath it – a feverish desperation.
”No.” A whimpering whisper left Danica's lips before she could stop it. The Firerreo pulled away and for a moment her face expressed the heart wrecking sorrow mixed with anger and surprise. She inhaled sharply, shocked at the abrupt end of comforting closeness. ”You...” Danica started but immediately noticed the first glimpse of any weakness the man had showed. Confusion, fear...As lost in the mids of all of that as the woman had been.
She swallowed an angry retort, fighting to calm inner turmoil. Her cheeks became flushed with embarrassment and annoyance that someone like Aurelius had made her to show such weakness. Such simple creature, an alien, a brute, a killer for hire. Such nobody! I don't need him! Tears pooled in her eyes at the feeling of being used, discarded, shunned. Then why it is so painful? The doubt and question gnawed at her as she watched the alien in tensed silence. ”Are there? Aurelius?” Danica intoned, which sounded almost as pleasant curiosity if not for droning cadence. The Firrerreo turned his face away as if trying to hide something. ”But?” Her body felt tensed, as if frozen in place with carbonite. For someone who knew her, it was a clear signal of cold fury awoken by a feeling of humiliation, but for those who looked beyond the sheer anger, would find deep emotional pain and sadness.
”Want me to beg?” She asked with the same, indifferent voice, her face blank, expressionless with closely controlled muscles. Only a small, detached frown was betraying that something was wrong. ”You got what you wanted, just go.” The carefully mastered self-control began to slip and Danica brought her trembling hand to burning cheeks, wiping away few droplets of tears.
|
|
|
|
|
Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
|
|
last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Apr 27, 2012 12:06:29 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Apr 27, 2012 12:06:29 GMT -5
"No."
Nieraan didn't leave Danica. Nor did he turn to face her again. He simply stood, back kept resolutely toward her. It wasn't an insult, though the fiery woman seemed to be taking it that way. It simply was that he wouldn't, he couldn't turn to face her again.
Emotions were churning in the Firrerreo--emotions that he hadn't had to deal with in years. They were uncomfortably; unwanted guests that were intruding into the safety of the inner sanctuary he'd made for himself. No one could hurt him if he was cold and detached. Sex with Danica wasn't a problem as long as it was just an answer to physical desire.
But emotional longing, or some sense of attachment? No, he had to be careful with those. They were weaknesses, and if another Sith couldn't exploit them, Kamirille surely would.
In truth, he feared what his mother could do far more than one of his Sith peers.
”Want me to beg?” he heard Danica ask. Her voice was measured and even, despite the swirling anger he could feel through the Force.
"No," he whispered softly, for himself. It was a tempting thought, though; fitting revenge, for the way she'd made him cave earlier. "Not now."
”You got what you wanted, just go.”
A spark of irritation flashed through Nieraan. He turned abruptly on his heel to face Danica, anger working across his face. "You never complained when I did!" he bit back sharply.
And then, he stopped. He saw her standing there, wiping a tear from her eyes.
Nieraan realized that his hands were clenched into tight fists. His stomach was tight, his breath came short and harshly, and the ever-present veins in his shoulders and along his arms were bulging more than normal from the tension he was feeling.
Suddenly, the woman looked very small and very weak. And Nieraan felt very foolish.
He sighed loudly and turned, storming back out to the main room without another word to Danica. It was time for him to go. He'd stayed longer than he should have.
Boots on. Amor pulled onto his chest and strapped tightly in place. Lightsabers to hip. Gloves on hand. Nieraan worked quickly and methodically, and in only few minutes, he was putting the mask back over his face.
Gone was the boyish Firrerreo that'd spent a night with Danica. The one who'd frightened her, tried to woo her, helped her, loved her.
Now assassin was back. Faceless, featureless. He took his data stick with him, knowing she'd copied all the information she needed. He stepped around a disturbed couch, over a glass that had been knocked off of a counter, and around a table that had a slightly off-looking area where it had been wet by sweat.
He walked to the door, a silently and graceful as a cat, and vanished back out into the Galaxy.
One thing remained, though. A napkin on the bar countertop, where none had been before. And on it, hastily-scrawled instructions in hard, angular handwriting. One word stood out from the others at the top.
"Danica..."
|
|
|
|