|A Moment In Time
Author: DevlinV1 PM
[FIN:2006:Het] Gangrel has taken notice of Luna's recent moodiness. Having a good idea that he knows what the problem is, he sets out to please his beloved femme and make her happy again.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance - Words: 1,818 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Published: 04-06-07 - Status: Complete - id: 3478589
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A Moment in Time
"You have been in odd form as of late, my Ghoul."
Luna raised her head slightly as Gangrel spoke to her, looking over her shoulder from where she sat silently in her chair in her bedroom. She didn't raise her eyes to his, centuries of training having taught her how to look at him without forgetting her place. She watched his thighs as he moved towards her; her mind blank in waiting for his command, his word. Her eyes caught upon the untucked tails of his formal blouse as they swayed with his proud swagger.
"What is it that troubles you, my femme?" he questioned her.
She lifted her eyes now to the center of his chest, looking up just enough to address him properly. "Nothing of any importance, Master. Merely the typical foolishness of a stupid woman."
Gangrel chuckled. "I know it can not be... PMS." Luna snorted at hearing him say such a thing. "I know you do not have such monthly flows and have not since I brought you to my side so very long ago."
"So very long ago..." she muttered in reflection.
Her mind wandered back to that night, as it often tended to do. A lowly tavern wench, laced up in a leather bustier so tight she could scarcely breathe, known about town as the cruelest and strongest woman in their village. It was that night that she came upon the fallen vampire. Naïve to his true nature, she took him into her home, nursed him, tended to him, and protected him day and night. On the third night when he at last awoke, his ailment seemingly fleeting, he sank his fangs into the soft flesh of her wrist and she did not cry out. There was no fear. There was only acceptance that this handsome, virile, amazing man was indeed not of this world and therefore she was not worthy of the right to her own life should he decide to take it from her. And it was in that loyalty, paired with her physical prowess and buxom endowments, that the Master Gangrel found his first and only Ghoul.
Luna startled out of her thoughts as icy fingers cupped her chin and tilted her head. Her eyes fell closed on instinct, still not daring to lie her gaze on that which was not worthy of her sight.
"Look upon your Master, Lady Gertrude."
Her eyes opened, not merely at his beckon, but at her true name being spoken from his pale lips. "Master?"
He smiled softly at her. "The foolishness of women is not always as foolish as one may think. Though upon the surface she appears moody and distant, in truth it merely is that her heart still beats for the one that she adores."
Luna felt said heart skip as he spoke to her in a manner that she had not heard from him in over a lifetime. She rose to her feet as he took her hand, leading her to the center of the ornamental carpet before the fireplace. The radio behind her began to play, the stations garbled as the dial turned back and forth quickly. The song it settled upon seemed so perfect, yet unlikely, that she had no doubt that it was not a local station she was hearing, but one from far distance, brought to clarity by her Master's will. She blinked her brown eyes up at him as he pulled her nearer, settling a hand on the small of her back and holding the other close to his heart.
"In her loneliness, the woman becomes irritable, hiding her private weakness as best she can beneath a guise of callousness. And as others react and shun her coarse ways, she withdraws all the more, becoming firmer in her strict control of herself, attempting in vain to remain the pillar of strength she has always been." He let go of her hand to hold her waist, gazing upon her as she did him, with a muted emotion that they each felt, but both knew was never meant to be in any form other than this. "Thy Master knows all that dwells within the heart of his Ghoul. The living, beating, feeling heart not deadened by the passage of time, nor affected by the mixture of vitae that flows in her veins. In short, my beloved Gertrude, I feel you and if you desire me, then you need do no more than speak and I shall give of myself to quiet your precious need."
That one barely audible whisper was all Luna was allowed to speak before Gangrel swept her up in a pressing kiss. Her long fingers threaded through his thick curls; her body suddenly alive with unbridled desire as his words gave her permission to release her hold upon herself. His hands glided over her ample curves with a knowing not plucked from her mind, but learned over centuries of time spent by her side, most times on their feet, sometimes in their bed. In all their 500 years together many a time they had found themselves entangled in the physical need of the body, taking part in the very mortal act of carnal indulgence. But then in each lifetime a certain child would be born. Gangrel would hear the cries of his destined mate and Luna would be reduced to his aide once again, forced to watch as he discovered his love in the delicate male or female embodiment of the soul that was eternally entwined with his own. Each rebirth brought Luna to her knees with emptiness and longing for the man she loved, having never discovered another, having never searched for another, so deep was her dedication. And now in this present modern time the child had chosen to become immortal, to stay by Gangrel's side for all eternity. Luna had imagined her heart to never be fulfilled again.
"I shall always fulfill your raging heart," Gangrel hissed as his lips trailed low over her throat.
"I shall never deserve you," Luna whispered in kind, arching her back to offer herself up to him all the more.
"Be selfish." He paused and drew back from her, pulling open his already low-cut blouse all the more. "Take that which you need. Indulge yourself."
Luna faintly whimpered as she leaned heavy against his chest, supported fully in his arms. It was these few precious moments that she truly lived for. Her lips feathered over his expansive chest, kissing and tasting, hands stroking over icy flesh and gripping at muscles of solid steel. A flawless marble statue of male perfection brought to a resemblance of life... She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as her tongue flickered over his neck before setting her teeth and sinking in, pulling a low groan from his throat as well a tightening of his grip upon her hips. Her eyes fluttered closed as his blood flowed forth to her awaiting mouth, a precious gift that had sustained her for an eon at his side. And as she took her feeding his hands took liberty of her body, stroking in gentle pressing over every place he knew pleased her. A mere thought and her clothing was gone, baring her voluptuous frame to his sight and touch. And touch he did, one hand trailing down to cup her moistened sex, causing her to jump in surprise and moan softly. His fingers probed at her expertly, slipping past the outer folds to delve deep into her willing body, thrusting into her slicked passage at the precise angle to wrench her mouth from his throat with a voiced howl of delight.
"You enjoy this, I'm guessing?" he chuckled by her ear.
There were no words of response needed as she keened in her lilting female tone. A slight shift of her body and she threw her leg up over his hip, her tiny foot pressing to his back as she moved to meet his hand eagerly. A smile twisted upon his features as he watched her in her pleasure. Her cheeks flushed with modesty in her own wild abandon, her blood-stained lips parted with each cry that echoed with the song still playing on her radio. Another mere thought and the elastic band in her hair snapped, sending a thousand tiny, blond braids cascading over her shoulders.
"Ah, my Gertrude... You are captivating in your passion..." he muttered, the low baritone of his voice sending another jolt through her body. He changed the tilt of his hand just slightly, moving so that the pad of his thumb slid over her feminine nub with each drive into her cavern, pulling a shriller scream from her. "Come now, my Ghoul. Let go of yourself."
Luna shrieked only those two words before she wailed out in ecstasy. Every muscle from head to toe tightened as waves of orgasm rippled through her, her instinct sending her clinging to Gangrel with all her strength, sharpened nails drawing blood from his shoulders. He, too, gave a growl of enjoyment as he felt her walls tighten and spasm, liquid heat spilling over his fingers as evidence of her moment so near to Heaven. He gently pulled his hand away as she sagged weakly against him, moving to sweep her legs out from under her and carry her to the bed. He gazed into eyes as he laid her among the soft pillows and pulled the sheets over her.
"Now, my Ghoul," he said in a stern tone even as he continued to smile. "I shall not stand for you allowing yourself to become so desolate again. Is that understood?" Luna smiled, nodding obediently, and that smile did indeed satisfy her Master. "I have not seen happiness upon thy face in numerous months. Do not doubt that even as my heart belongs to Shannon, I do still... care for you deeply."
"I understand, Master," she whispered, lowering her eyes again. "I felt I would be intruding to ask for such things of you in her presence."
Gangrel chuckled. "T'was she who insisted upon this, my Ghoul. She understands and adores you and wants you to be happy... as do I." He touched her cheek momentarily and then rose to his feet. "Take your rest. I shall see you upon the next rising."
"Good night, Master... and thank you."
Gangrel gave a curt nod before pulling her door shut once again, leaving Luna to bask in the afterglow of his adoration and attention, slowly drifting off into a peaceful sleep.
Legalities: Gangrel and Luna Vachon are copyright to themselves. Any other mentioned characters are copyright to World Wrestling Entertainment. I claim no knowledge of their sexuality or personal lives. I gained no profit from this story. This work is complete fiction.