Author: Jess J PM
Rated for sexual content. Because this was an addiction. Simple as that. He knew it, she knew it, and nothing was going to change until Kraven and Lucian finally made their move.Rated: Fiction M - English - Angst/Drama - Words: 1,496 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 4 - Published: 08-10-04 - id: 2006189
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's note: This is a Soren/Amelia fic that was NOT a challenge or request, simply something my muse came up with and demanded I write. It's rather dark, and it does have sexual content, but I feel that it's can pass for hard R, as I've seen some pretty risqué scene in PG-13 movies as of late, much less R movies, and since that's where the standard for these ratings is set, I feel like this is not a misrating. Hope you enjoy, please review.
Disclaimer: I do not own Soren, Amelia, or anyone else that might be mentioned in this fic. They are the property of Danny McBride, Kevin Grevioux, Len Wiseman, and Sony pictures/Screen Gems, whoever owns the movie rights. I mean no copyright infringement. Please do not sue me. Savvy?
When Soren stopped to think about these days, it was never with fondness. It was with dread, with a sick, guilty feeling, shame rising in his throat like bile as he remembered how degrading this was. When he thought about the way things were, it was like being punched in the gut.
That never stopped him from coming.
Because this was an addiction. Simple as that. He knew it, she knew it, and nothing was going to change until Kraven and Lucian finally made their move.
Soren knew that come nightfall, this tryst would be nothing more than a bad memory to cling to until his next fix. Soren knew that come sunrise tomorrow, he would feel like ripping throats and pounding his fists into flesh and breaking bones. Soren knew these things.
Knowing, and doing something about that knowledge were two entirely different things.
Of course, she was waiting in her relaxed, nonchalant way, her back to him as she stared outside. Her eyes were focused on the sky as it began to brighten. She did not turn, did not acknowledge him, simply stood there, staring for the last few moments she had before the blinds would close, shutting out the light.
He went to her, like a loyal slave, stopping as his chest almost touched her back. He struggled to control himself, to keep his distance. He waited for a minute or two before she finally stepped back, letting herself lean into him.
"You're early," she said softly, voice empty and cold. But she was always cold. She was frigid, and she had made Soren crave it, crave her, yearn and ache for the cold more than the warm blood that kept him and his kind alive. She turned, facing him. "Were you careful?"
Instinctively, Soren nodded, never speaking.
Amelia nodded, her lips lifting ever so slightly. She brushed past him, her hand linking with his as she did, pulling him after her to the bed, stopping as her legs touched the silk sheets. She stood, waiting, perfectly still.
Reaching up, Soren's fingers slowly began untying the corset of her dress, the tips brushing with skin at the top until they made they way down a bit further. He almost smiled when she let her head loll back, eyes closed at the contact. He finally came to the end and removed the piece of clothing, head swiftly leaning down to kiss the bared skin of her shoulders and back.
The gasp that escaped Amelia finally caused a grin, a wide grin against her frozen flesh and then fangs grazing her neck oh so lightly, barely touching yet making her breath catch, her cold heart beating loudly enough for Soren to clearly hear it's song.
His hands pushed the rest of her clothing down, letting it pool around her feet. Slowly they stroked their way from her shoulder blades to her neck, then down, finally reaching her breasts. Fingers kneaded the soft flesh, his thumbs teasing her nipples, and then they were stroking down again.
When they reached her stomach, her grip on control loosened and she moaned.
Soren grinned again, kissing the back of her neck, though he would soon see it covered by raven hair. He had grown to love her hair down now.
Amelia's head turned her head back, looking up at him. She lifted one hand, pulling his head down to kiss her, the other hand resting on one of his as it traced circles on her stomach, making her shiver. She moaned into the kiss, her fangs brushing his tongue when he slipped his other hand down farther, meeting wetness and something close to warmth.
Letting her fingers stroke her core, Soren groaned as he felt her lick at the small cut her fangs had made on his tongue. He let one of his fingers slip inside her, making her break the kiss to cry out in delight, her control forgotten once again, gone until they were sated and she was done with him. He continued to stroke, to tease, to enter, driving her to a frenzy and soon he was having to hold her up, his hands pressing her against him as she gripped him tightly as best she could.
He kissed her shoulders, holding her just as tightly, possessively. This was why he came back, just as much as his own pleasure. It was the satisfaction of knowing that for a for, brief moments he had her trembling and weak in his grasp, his to bend, his to break.
It was small consolation later, yet it was just as addicting as the feel of her wrapped around him, pinned beneath him, just as she would be soon.
When she finally came it was quiet, her mouth wide open in a soundless scream as her body shook and her head fell back onto his still clothed chest. After a moment, her body finally relaxed and fell back into him, limp as she closed her eyes and panted.
Soren lifted her up, gently laying her down on the mattress. Her eyes opened halfway, focusing on him hazily before closing again as he stood straight again and removed his own clothing before joining her on the bed.
Her legs spread for him languidly, but first he reached up, unpinning her hair and brushing it out, fingers entangling themselves in the soft, midnight strands before he kissed her again. She reached up, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and as he entered her finally, her legs wrapped around his hips.
Groaning, he thrust into her repeatedly, feeling her nails dig into the flesh of his back, her cold skin off her could feel on his, her breath all he could breathe now, her eyes all he could see as they lazily stared up at his.
She writhed, her own lips parting as she whimpered in an undignified manner, and it gave another thrill of satisfaction to Soren, hearing the sound that proved she was just as addicted as he was, despite the facade of control she so easily hid behind.
Bodies rocked together in unison, flesh meeting flesh and Soren once again forgot where he ended and Amelia began, but it really didn't matter at the moment. All that mattered was the fix, the pleasure, the high he was getting from the cold as it slowly melted into lukewarm that somehow scorched his skin.
Lifting her head, she kissed him again, her hands moving up to hold the back of his neck, keeping his mouth close even when they parted. She threw her head back at last, her throat exposed as she came again, her second release triggered by the surprise feeling of fingers again teasing her core even as he thrust into her.
Soren longed to sink his fangs into the beautiful, pristine neck, drink down her cold blood as she came around him, moaning loudly in abandon, but he resisted somehow. He simply leaned down, kissing and nipping and nuzzling her neck as he finally found his own release at last. He groaned, arms holding her tightly, and his could hear their hearts beating wildly, pants loud, bodies almost numb after the pleasure subsided.
Come tomorrow, this would be another painful flashback, and he would have cold, harsh, empty words to block out, words he knew she would say at any moment. He had known this coming in. He had known this for decades.
Yet the alternative was something he just could not face yet. He was unsure how he would face it when she left, how he would face it when she died, but perhaps, just perhaps, he would grow accustomed to the absence, to the withdrawal.
After all, he was an ex-Death Dealer. He had helped kill loved ones before. He had helped kill innocent victims before.
Something as empty and meaningless as this was not going to get in the way of his duty. And Amelia made certain that he always remembered that this was empty, meaningless. She made it crystal clear, this was nothing.
But a fix.