[ Lenore takes it all in with a hint of amusement, enjoying the attention all the same. What can she say? She like to be treated even if she prefers to be the one calling the shots. And a facsimile of it is preferable when genuine affection is difficult to come by.
So she allows the touch and teases his cheek with the edge of one of her nails. It's a promise. ]
My, that's dangerously romantic.
[ Lenore allows the kiss for a moment before she twists her hand to grip Yamada's chin and hold his gaze with her own, eyes hooded but unblinking. Heat to match heat. Doing well thus far. ]
All this time I didn't realize I had a poet under my thumb.
[ To make her point, she slides her hand slowly down his jawline, skin rubbing against stubble, until she can pinch down firmly at his neck. ]
[ There is a genuine affection from Yamada, too- just not to the extent of the game they play. Or, at least, a different kind. There's a reason he asked her if she was okay the last time this happened when it was rawer. He earnestly cares. The best medicine he knows for loneliness and frustration is this. Maybe he can't be the real deal entirely, but if Lenore feels happier during (and hopefully after for a while, Yamada will have done what he can.
His breath passes over her skin as she explores his face, and he takes several anticipatory breaths, some escaping quietly unbidden as a hum when Lenore's fingers pass through his facial hair. It ceases when she grips his neck. There's a tense moment where his muscles go taut— followed by his hands wrapping around her arm, with no hint of pulling her away. The same affection of playing with her fingers, but the sparkling excitement of danger in his eyes only grows. ]
Anyone can be a poet with the right inspiration. [ He gets out, his throat flexing under her palm. More, when he swallows heavily in expectation, his voice is heavy and low at the best of times, but now each word comes out as a stone in a rock slide. ] ...And I won't snap... until you want me to.
[ The truth is for as much as she enjoys attention and affection, she rarely trusts in it in its entirety. Few vampires aren't jaded in some fashion, and while Lenore hadn't exactly chosen this life, but she didn't regret it. It gave her control in situations she might not otherwise have, power over people who might have had power over her.
Safety.
In another life, Yamada could easily be a greater threat. It's true she doesn't know the full extent of his power, but feeling the pulse beneath the skin of his neck excites her. She could squeeze, restrict that, make his heart beat faster and faster. Make that life that flows red inside of him struggle to force its way throughout his body, igniting a primal instinct that makes her own mouth water.
He could snap if she wanted him to. ]
You've been fortunate enough not to run into as many bumbling fools as I have, to say that.
[ It's a compliment, she knows.
Lenore leans in, squeezing lightly at first, just enough to make breathing a tad more difficult. Her lips however over his as she speaks, voice dropping. ]
I don't want you to snap. But I do want you to bend. And you'll do that for me, won't you?
[ Yamada has experienced another controlling him, and knows this is more of the same. But it is a sweet thing and once you get a taste of it you can't always resist another. Lenore’s methods are better than Kaze’s, the man who used him as a kid for simple crimes, thinking himself ambitious.
It helps Lenore that the sensation of impending danger thrills him. He’s spent a long time trying not to feel much at all, but there are certain things harder to mute than others. For him, survivor’s instinct and libido are amongst them.
His eyes nearly glow with heat, heart beating, veins under her fingers bouncing in time. His hold on her wrist presses fingertips to where her pulse would is- or isn't. He doesn't know if her heart beats. Wanting to know this, and so much more, is a hunger for her. ]
As far as you want me to. [ He lets out each worth between a breath, his legs quivering a little. ] As long as you want me to.
[ A predator's instinct mixed with lust is a dangerous thing. She licks her lips, then feeling the sharpness of her fangs with her tongue. She has a heart, but it rarely beats save for moments of heightened sensation. Maybe it will tonight. ]
Good boy.
[ Lenore whispers against his lips before gracing Yamada with a kiss that's almost too gentle. Teasing, a ghost of a thing. She tightens her fingers in a quick squeeze before pulling back to stand in front of him. ]
[ Yamada has delicate senses and feels the lack of heartbeat. It gives him another pang of his curious empathy for her, knowing what it’s like to lose a vital part of your humanity- unaware if he's a good boy and tries hard, he might get to feel it rev up.
His muscles strain, and he'd have chased that kiss on instinct if her hand weren’t around his neck. Hunger for more radiates from him beyond the need for air. Once she relinquishes her hold, he doesn't catch his breath before starting on her request. So he pants as his fingers hurry to undo the clasps on his curious, wolf-bat vest. Yamada is always naked; his clothing is just another thing he’s made from his body. Still, he can do a show. Once the clasps are open, and there’s a thin line revealing his thick muscle, he pulls it over his head to make the abs ripple, and he drops it- but the cloth never hits the ground. It is reabsorbed into his back out of sight. He grips the cloak that was wings, pulling it off to swirl around him like a magician’s trick. The flap itself makes it vanish. Finally, he hooks his thumbs into his pants, and as he rolls them down, they don't pool up but compress into nothing.
His figure is quite literally sculpted, not bulky but taut and powerful. He built the shape to suit his needs for strength and beauty. But few know how subjective that is than he. And so he offers- ]
[ Lenore watches with open interest, open curiosity. While her own clothing can be absorbed as part of her transformations into bats or mist as needed, she can't change them on their own. She wonders if it takes a different layer of skill, or if it's all second nature to him now? If he tore a sleeve, would it be the same as tearing open layers of skin?
Not that she will test that...exactly. Not tonight.
Yamada's performance is well-done, with Lenore raising her brows at the cloak in particular. More flare, which she can appreciate. Points in his favor. And good pets are allowed to make requests at the appropriate time. ]
Hmmm...
[ Lenore hums contemplatively, giving herself a moment to admire his form with her eyes first, and then her hands. She splays her fingers out across his chest, the coolness of her own undead skin readily apparent. She smooths them up along his clavicle, feeling out the shift in muscles on his broad shoulders before sliding down his arms. ]
I don't usually get options, [ she says, amused. Red eyes drag back up to catch his gaze. ] But this, it's your "true form"?
[ Her thoughts are along the right track- all she sees is him, a strange mix of living and not. No wonder he has some empathy for vampires.
Yamada's breath hitches at the cold fingers, even though he was expecting them, goosebumps rising after a single, reflexive shiver. The breath is released as a low laugh, his deep voice vibrating Lenore's hands. He accommodates her exploration with his posture, offering himself by tipping his head back when she reaches up, then tensing and relaxing his arms when she reaches them. ]
Do you have a "true hairstyle?" [ He asks with amusement, hazarding returning her touch to take some of her long, wavy strands between his fingers to glide them silkily through them. He doesn't usually volunteer this information, but it's not a secret, either. Most people just don't ask, and it interests him that Lenore does. ] This is just a comfortable shape. My best guess at nature's version of myself.
[ With some tweaks, of course. Some deliberate. Some subconscious. The strength is for survival. The beauty was accidental at first, just what he liked of other bodies, but the sad truth of it is it gets him the sort of attention he craves. Either way, he can't put the effort into perfectly replicating it every time- there are always minor differences. ]
[ She enjoys that reaction, the shock to the stark contrast between something that is alive and something that is...other. Lenore doesn't feel dead--far from it, if anything she's living more now than she ever did as a mortal. And being a vampire is something she is proud of, even if it includes colds hands a feet.
His skin, in contrast, is warm and taut across muscle. Her eyes narrow slightly as she feels them flex beneath her fingers and she gives him appreciative pinches in a few key places. ]
I have my preferences, [ She admits, once again generously allowing the touch. ] but I see your point.
[ One hand moves to find purchase on his shoulder, while the other slides down the full length of his arm to guide his free hand to her own still clothed hip. ]
Isn't it curious, then, that this is what you remember of yourself?
[ She bends one leg to kneel on the mattress, knee pressing down next to his thigh. She once again moves Yamada's hand to the hem of her dress, silently requesting he push the fabric up. ]
Or I should rephrase; that this is what you feels like?
[ Yamada reacts to each pinch, not always verbally, but with muscles twitching every time. It does turn out that he's rather sensitive on his pecs, and if she wants to make him moan, his nipples are a weak spot, not to be ignored. He's hard, too, of course, but Yamada doesn't focus on that as much as others might- the most significant erogenous zone is the brain, they say. And that's more true for him than most; psychology and physiology are separated by the thinnest of margins.
He doesn't need much guidance. Lenore's merest indication has him intuit her desires, his hands moving in step with her as if this is a practised dance. One where he must still sometimes glance at his feet, though; his gaze flits to her knee, then back up to her face. Her choice of words is intriguing. It's so hard to put what it feels like to be him into words. ]
Mmm... it's what I feel like now. [ Yamada takes his time pushing her dress up, savouring the feel of his warm fingers on her. And that she's allowed it. His breathing is slow and deep, his pulse quick, and when he swallows he has to pause from the lingering sting of her hand. His body is exactly as he wants it right now. ] When I feel some other way, I'll be some other thing.
[ He doesn't look her in the eye as he says it. Between the distracting proximity of her lips and the new view of lifted fabric, there's a lot to look at. It's certainly not a difficult subject to discuss, no, never that. ]
[ The emphasis on "now" doesn't escape her. Is his existence truly so mutable? Lenore had always assumed there was a simple default state and beyond that was up to him, not entirely unlike that of a vampire's transformations if more varied. Yamada continues to become a greater curiosity.
It also doesn't escape her that such abilities could be immensely useful in realms other than pleasure. Something to keep in mind, even if she has no grand ambitions these days. In the end, what grandiosity she did indulge was a mirror of the company she kept--all Lenore desires is to live comfortably, to live well. And that certainly includes having a little fun. ]
Interesting...
[ Her breath is warmer than her skin, but still far too cold for a human. She huffs against his cheek, lips teasing but never making contact. ]
Then I have to wonder what you might become with the right...
[ She shifts, ghosting her lips to his ear instead. Nuzzling some of that shaggy hair out of the way, she nips at the cuff. ]
Incentive.
[ Always dressed for the occasion, Lenore wears long stockings up to her thighs, decorated with fine lace at the top and secured by garters. ]
[ Yamada has spent quite some time deliberately not considering his abilities' limits and implications. There's only so much a human mind can grasp, and he has already been altered. Does becoming a vampire change one's perspective forcibly, too? Make it possible to be comfortable with being something else? If she turned him, would it work? If it did… could he just change back? Too much to ask.
Much easier to give himself to the cool breath tingling his warm skin. Goosebumps lift from the chill air but it's the nip that gets him. He lets out a small, low sound like ‘mmmhaw’ and gulps loud enough to hear. The anticipation of a good bite is killing him.
His fingers shake when he starts on her garters, until he takes a breath. ]
I’ll be anything once… [ He plays with the well-known phrase, undoing garters on both sides first. But using two hands to delicately slide down one. He uses his thumbs, but splays his fingers to feel her skin, as silky as the lace, going as far to bend them to tease the backs of her knees on the way down. The process repeats, Yamada’s senses aflame. ] If the mood is right for it.
[ If he allows it, she will feed. Boundaries are things that Lenore teases more often than not, but for all the powers she could wield, having someone agree to her is the ultimate goal. She would be lying if she said she isn't curious what he'd taste like; human, in this form, or something else entirely? And would it change if he did? That's certainly an experiment she would enjoy.
Fresh, warm blood is always the best.
Lenore give an appreciative purr against his ear, both for being kind to her clothing (which was always expensive) and for the gentle touch. She joins her hands again at his back, pressing the pads of her fingers against his shoulder blades and tracing out the newly discovered muscles there. She always did like a nice back. ]
And you're going to be mine tonight, aren't you?
[ Once her stockings are off, she straddles his lap properly, her dress pooling between them. Lenore still suddenly, dropping her voice to a whisper. ]
[ Yamada's breathing is disrupted by Lenore's purr. Anything that activates those ancient human urges to avoid a predator excites him so profoundly that he's paradoxically drawn to it. His shoulders roll slightly to accommodate her fingers, showing how wellformed the muscles are. They had aught to be, he designed them deliberately, none of this nature nonsense. He's marginally stronger than he should be as a human, but her vampiric strength eclipses it in this shape and he knows it.
His breath catches when she straddles him, her dress stroking across his naked body, his cock tenting the fabric. It's a stimulation that makes him bite his lip. He doesn't even notice that his eyes have inadvertently changed, still the same shimmering emerald but expanding to erase the whites. It gives a prey animal look, with the wide pupils taking in everything. Yamada takes a long, deep breath through his nose before he answers. Not to calm himself but just to absorb her scent, shivering with delight.
Once he's ready, he answers breathily, his hands on her hips to make her position easier. ]
Of all the things I've been tonight... [ He begins, a smile emerging. He likes danger, and what he will say next is extremely hazardous. He knows it, and he's sure she sees that he recognises that- and he's going to say it anyway because she's worth it. ] Yours will be my favourite.
[ She waits, both patiently and impatiently--poised in every movement, but with a heavy demand in the air between them. She asks sweetly but wants for blood. A predator to prey. Having someone bend to your will is wonderful, but having them do it willingly is infinitely more satisfying.
Watching the shifts, the descent, is delicious. And as soon as he says it, Lenore doesn't hesitate for a second--she grabs his shoulders and pushes Yamada down onto the mattress. Intending to steal his breath, she smashes her lips against his as she drags her nails down along his chest.
The kiss lasts only for a few seconds. When she breaks away, Lenore lets out a breathy laugh. ]
Your favorite? You're playing for bonus points.
[ Her right hand slides back up to dig her thumb at the base of his throat, while her left slips down underneath the splayed fabric of her dress. It's only a moment's search for her fingers to dance along his stomach to take hold of his cock, half-pressed between them. ]
[ Despite the submission to Lenore, Yamada has a small sense of safety thanks to his powers. It's not always warranted, but he usually feels like he can rely upon them to get him out of any jam- replenishing his blood is easy enough so long as he gets a meal to keep his energy up. If he really needed to, he could feed her daily without the usual complications of needing his blood more than her. He holds to that idea in the back of his consciousness when she pushes them down and seals her lips over his so possessively, his chest pushing out into her nails like a needy cat. He really thought he was getting that bite, but the kiss is in no way disappointing.
He probably had another comment in him, but he silences himself when thumb presses to his throat, and he can't stop the smile that comes with it.
His pulse throbs in one hand, then two, once she gets her fingers around his cock. Naturally, he's made himself quite a nice one, though being unafraid of being a woman and experimenting he hasn't made an utterly awkward beast of a rod either. His body tightens up with her squeeze, Yamada's biting his lower lip to stop a moan that'd waste precious air, his jaw quivering. ]
Ah... I think I can manage it. [ He gets out once the squeeze passes, his hands gripping her sides- he'd loved to explore a little more, but she is calling the shots. ] With practice.
[ Despite his current state, his eyes have that sparkle of life that comes when he's having fun. Playing games. ]
[ He's a satisfying size, both in appearance and feel, though she's yet to test the full extent of the latter metric. They will get to that later. Her goal now is to recuperate some of what was lost during their last attempt and see just where his limits are. That is always fun.
Lenore clicks her tongue and sing-songs the old adage; ]
"Practice makes perfect."
[ As far as Lenore is concerned, she believes she's being quite generous to allow him to keep his hands at her waist--normally she'd force them back or tie them herself, but this has become a silent test in and of itself. Will he make a move without her permission? He surely knows the right answer.
She starts to stroke his cock, slowly at first, making sure she can feel him from base to head. With each stroke, she increases the pressure at his throat, bit by bit closing her thumb and forefinger down. Her hands aren't quite big enough to encompass his neck in just one, but her inhuman strength makes up for it. ]
We'll get in a lot of good practice.
[ Her gaze dances across his, watching for any shift in his expression and, more importantly, his pleasure. ]
[ Oh, no, her sing-song is so cute and in such contrast to the activities, he has to try quite hard not to laugh. That would be an awful idea when air is at a premium and he catches his lower lips in his teeth around a quivering smile.
There's still enough space for him to take a shallow intake with each stroke of his cock, when her fingers reach the head, though more shallow with each tightening. His hands do move, though it's less exploratory than he would have liked. A hand reaching for her forearm, an encouraging hold. An unspoken promise that he won't be ruining the mood this time. Sure, he does want her to feel okay... but he isn't going to ask it. Maybe in the afterglow, more subtly. If he lives that long.
Yamada keeps his eyes locked on hers, though, even when her fingers hit just the right spot, and he bites his lip so hard there's a drop of blood.
He did it deliberately, as a treat, because there's always a treat inside of threat. ]
[ It's a bit of a test, though she expects him to be quite durable. More so than humans, no matter what magical prowess they profess to supplement their inherit weaknesses. The corners of her eyes wrinkle just a tad when he catches himself. She increases the pace, stroke after stroke.
She generously allows Yamada that bit of movement as well, if only because he's keeping his hands on topic. Should he prove himself, he'll be provided ample time to use them to her pleasure.
Pleasure that he seems keen on offering regardless with that little bit of blood. Her pupils dilate instantly, instinct driven as the amber of her eyes nearly disappears behind black. She clicks her tongue. ]
What an eager boy you are...
[ Lenore tightens her grip considerably on his neck, using the hold to pull his head up towards hers. She licks at the few drops of blood gingerly in contrast to the rest of her ministrations. The salt and sweetness its her tongue, pleasant and tantalizing. But a little different. Not human. ]
Eager to please even when it's your job to take it.
[ She says as if she's not getting her own enjoyment from this. Watching the strain in his body, feeling his pulse beneath her fingers. Warmth pools between her legs unbidden, though Lenore concentrates on pushing Yamada further. She continues to pump him in her fist, twisting and squeezing here and there and dragging her nails along the veins.
But an offering of blood is hard to ignore. With an open wound, no matter how small, Lenore teases it open further, kneading his lip between her own teeth until she can taste blood again. ]
[ Yamada's heart skips when he sees Lenore's eyes widen like a cat with a bird in view. It activates something in ancient human instincts, ones that ignore that his humanity is academic. That innate, automatic fear of death makes him feel more alive than he has for a long time, and then she goes and makes it better by cutting off his air entirely.
His blood is rich and dark red, sticky as honey but with a metallic bite. A mingling of his human shape and remnants of prior forms. The flavour of a carnivorous beast hanging on from the wolf bat he was a moment ago. Next time might be totally different.
His body tightens all over, not to fight her, but to fight his instincts- they tell him to struggle and escape. He tells them to be silent, but the veins bulge, and the muscles quiver. His knees pull up and flatten in alternating order. He wants to eat her right back, show her the kind of fangs he can grow, but being deliciously devoured is more appealing. Briefly, when she takes her teeth to his lip, his fingernails turn to hooked claws, and his teeth rattle, sharpness travelling in a wave across them that reverts just as quickly. There's not a Night Creature conceived that can match the things he's turned into, but he's being a good boy for her, making sure she can enjoy the moment's pleasure. Perhaps knowing the effort he's putting in is all the better. He hopes so- he ruined the mood once and hopes not to again.
His voice is strained and muffled, but he still gets out an adoring moan of her name. It has a little pleading to it. For air? Mercy? For more? His cock gives him away as much as his voice- his hips push into her grip, and hot precum reaches her fingers. ]
[ He's delicious, each little lap or suck tastes different than the last. A myriad of minute flavors melting from one into the next and Lenore knows she could easily suck him dry if she wanted.
She does want. But she won't. She's more practical than that.
The changes are fascinating. That he controls them despite himself is equally fascinating. Pleasing. He's doing exactly as she asked and what could make her happier than that? The choked sound of her own name makes Lenore purr and she squeezes his cock hard with one equally rough pull on his lower lip.
Then she suddenly pulls back, taking what little heat her body holds with her. Her grip on his neck loosens and she allows him to fall back to the mattress if he wants. Looking down between them, she smudges the precum across Yamada's slit. ]
Very good.
[ She swipes a final drop of blood from his lip and samples his cum in tandem, licking her thumb and forefinger eagerly. ]
But not just yet. You'll finish when I allow it.
[ Lenore releases his erection, leaving it straining. She pulls up her skirts to her waist. ]
Since you're so eager to please, I've decided you can fuck me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
So she allows the touch and teases his cheek with the edge of one of her nails. It's a promise. ]
My, that's dangerously romantic.
[ Lenore allows the kiss for a moment before she twists her hand to grip Yamada's chin and hold his gaze with her own, eyes hooded but unblinking. Heat to match heat. Doing well thus far. ]
All this time I didn't realize I had a poet under my thumb.
[ To make her point, she slides her hand slowly down his jawline, skin rubbing against stubble, until she can pinch down firmly at his neck. ]
Surely you won't snap that easily, hm?
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His breath passes over her skin as she explores his face, and he takes several anticipatory breaths, some escaping quietly unbidden as a hum when Lenore's fingers pass through his facial hair. It ceases when she grips his neck. There's a tense moment where his muscles go taut— followed by his hands wrapping around her arm, with no hint of pulling her away. The same affection of playing with her fingers, but the sparkling excitement of danger in his eyes only grows. ]
Anyone can be a poet with the right inspiration. [ He gets out, his throat flexing under her palm. More, when he swallows heavily in expectation, his voice is heavy and low at the best of times, but now each word comes out as a stone in a rock slide. ] ...And I won't snap... until you want me to.
no subject
Safety.
In another life, Yamada could easily be a greater threat. It's true she doesn't know the full extent of his power, but feeling the pulse beneath the skin of his neck excites her. She could squeeze, restrict that, make his heart beat faster and faster. Make that life that flows red inside of him struggle to force its way throughout his body, igniting a primal instinct that makes her own mouth water.
He could snap if she wanted him to. ]
You've been fortunate enough not to run into as many bumbling fools as I have, to say that.
[ It's a compliment, she knows.
Lenore leans in, squeezing lightly at first, just enough to make breathing a tad more difficult. Her lips however over his as she speaks, voice dropping. ]
I don't want you to snap. But I do want you to bend. And you'll do that for me, won't you?
no subject
It helps Lenore that the sensation of impending danger thrills him. He’s spent a long time trying not to feel much at all, but there are certain things harder to mute than others. For him, survivor’s instinct and libido are amongst them.
His eyes nearly glow with heat, heart beating, veins under her fingers bouncing in time. His hold on her wrist presses fingertips to where her pulse would is- or isn't. He doesn't know if her heart beats. Wanting to know this, and so much more, is a hunger for her. ]
As far as you want me to. [ He lets out each worth between a breath, his legs quivering a little. ] As long as you want me to.
no subject
Good boy.
[ Lenore whispers against his lips before gracing Yamada with a kiss that's almost too gentle. Teasing, a ghost of a thing. She tightens her fingers in a quick squeeze before pulling back to stand in front of him. ]
You're much too clothed for this. Strip for me.
no subject
His muscles strain, and he'd have chased that kiss on instinct if her hand weren’t around his neck. Hunger for more radiates from him beyond the need for air. Once she relinquishes her hold, he doesn't catch his breath before starting on her request. So he pants as his fingers hurry to undo the clasps on his curious, wolf-bat vest. Yamada is always naked; his clothing is just another thing he’s made from his body. Still, he can do a show. Once the clasps are open, and there’s a thin line revealing his thick muscle, he pulls it over his head to make the abs ripple, and he drops it- but the cloth never hits the ground. It is reabsorbed into his back out of sight. He grips the cloak that was wings, pulling it off to swirl around him like a magician’s trick. The flap itself makes it vanish. Finally, he hooks his thumbs into his pants, and as he rolls them down, they don't pool up but compress into nothing.
His figure is quite literally sculpted, not bulky but taut and powerful. He built the shape to suit his needs for strength and beauty. But few know how subjective that is than he. And so he offers- ]
Ah… I can customise if you like…
[
no subject
Not that she will test that...exactly. Not tonight.
Yamada's performance is well-done, with Lenore raising her brows at the cloak in particular. More flare, which she can appreciate. Points in his favor. And good pets are allowed to make requests at the appropriate time. ]
Hmmm...
[ Lenore hums contemplatively, giving herself a moment to admire his form with her eyes first, and then her hands. She splays her fingers out across his chest, the coolness of her own undead skin readily apparent. She smooths them up along his clavicle, feeling out the shift in muscles on his broad shoulders before sliding down his arms. ]
I don't usually get options, [ she says, amused. Red eyes drag back up to catch his gaze. ] But this, it's your "true form"?
no subject
Yamada's breath hitches at the cold fingers, even though he was expecting them, goosebumps rising after a single, reflexive shiver. The breath is released as a low laugh, his deep voice vibrating Lenore's hands. He accommodates her exploration with his posture, offering himself by tipping his head back when she reaches up, then tensing and relaxing his arms when she reaches them. ]
Do you have a "true hairstyle?" [ He asks with amusement, hazarding returning her touch to take some of her long, wavy strands between his fingers to glide them silkily through them. He doesn't usually volunteer this information, but it's not a secret, either. Most people just don't ask, and it interests him that Lenore does. ] This is just a comfortable shape. My best guess at nature's version of myself.
[ With some tweaks, of course. Some deliberate. Some subconscious. The strength is for survival. The beauty was accidental at first, just what he liked of other bodies, but the sad truth of it is it gets him the sort of attention he craves. Either way, he can't put the effort into perfectly replicating it every time- there are always minor differences. ]
no subject
His skin, in contrast, is warm and taut across muscle. Her eyes narrow slightly as she feels them flex beneath her fingers and she gives him appreciative pinches in a few key places. ]
I have my preferences, [ She admits, once again generously allowing the touch. ] but I see your point.
[ One hand moves to find purchase on his shoulder, while the other slides down the full length of his arm to guide his free hand to her own still clothed hip. ]
Isn't it curious, then, that this is what you remember of yourself?
[ She bends one leg to kneel on the mattress, knee pressing down next to his thigh. She once again moves Yamada's hand to the hem of her dress, silently requesting he push the fabric up. ]
Or I should rephrase; that this is what you feels like?
no subject
He doesn't need much guidance. Lenore's merest indication has him intuit her desires, his hands moving in step with her as if this is a practised dance. One where he must still sometimes glance at his feet, though; his gaze flits to her knee, then back up to her face. Her choice of words is intriguing. It's so hard to put what it feels like to be him into words. ]
Mmm... it's what I feel like now. [ Yamada takes his time pushing her dress up, savouring the feel of his warm fingers on her. And that she's allowed it. His breathing is slow and deep, his pulse quick, and when he swallows he has to pause from the lingering sting of her hand. His body is exactly as he wants it right now. ] When I feel some other way, I'll be some other thing.
[ He doesn't look her in the eye as he says it. Between the distracting proximity of her lips and the new view of lifted fabric, there's a lot to look at. It's certainly not a difficult subject to discuss, no, never that. ]
no subject
It also doesn't escape her that such abilities could be immensely useful in realms other than pleasure. Something to keep in mind, even if she has no grand ambitions these days. In the end, what grandiosity she did indulge was a mirror of the company she kept--all Lenore desires is to live comfortably, to live well. And that certainly includes having a little fun. ]
Interesting...
[ Her breath is warmer than her skin, but still far too cold for a human. She huffs against his cheek, lips teasing but never making contact. ]
Then I have to wonder what you might become with the right...
[ She shifts, ghosting her lips to his ear instead. Nuzzling some of that shaggy hair out of the way, she nips at the cuff. ]
Incentive.
[ Always dressed for the occasion, Lenore wears long stockings up to her thighs, decorated with fine lace at the top and secured by garters. ]
Take my stockings off.
no subject
Much easier to give himself to the cool breath tingling his warm skin. Goosebumps lift from the chill air but it's the nip that gets him. He lets out a small, low sound like ‘mmmhaw’ and gulps loud enough to hear. The anticipation of a good bite is killing him.
His fingers shake when he starts on her garters, until he takes a breath. ]
I’ll be anything once… [ He plays with the well-known phrase, undoing garters on both sides first. But using two hands to delicately slide down one. He uses his thumbs, but splays his fingers to feel her skin, as silky as the lace, going as far to bend them to tease the backs of her knees on the way down. The process repeats, Yamada’s senses aflame. ] If the mood is right for it.
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Fresh, warm blood is always the best.
Lenore give an appreciative purr against his ear, both for being kind to her clothing (which was always expensive) and for the gentle touch. She joins her hands again at his back, pressing the pads of her fingers against his shoulder blades and tracing out the newly discovered muscles there. She always did like a nice back. ]
And you're going to be mine tonight, aren't you?
[ Once her stockings are off, she straddles his lap properly, her dress pooling between them. Lenore still suddenly, dropping her voice to a whisper. ]
I want to hear you say it.
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His breath catches when she straddles him, her dress stroking across his naked body, his cock tenting the fabric. It's a stimulation that makes him bite his lip. He doesn't even notice that his eyes have inadvertently changed, still the same shimmering emerald but expanding to erase the whites. It gives a prey animal look, with the wide pupils taking in everything. Yamada takes a long, deep breath through his nose before he answers. Not to calm himself but just to absorb her scent, shivering with delight.
Once he's ready, he answers breathily, his hands on her hips to make her position easier. ]
Of all the things I've been tonight... [ He begins, a smile emerging. He likes danger, and what he will say next is extremely hazardous. He knows it, and he's sure she sees that he recognises that- and he's going to say it anyway because she's worth it. ] Yours will be my favourite.
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Watching the shifts, the descent, is delicious. And as soon as he says it, Lenore doesn't hesitate for a second--she grabs his shoulders and pushes Yamada down onto the mattress. Intending to steal his breath, she smashes her lips against his as she drags her nails down along his chest.
The kiss lasts only for a few seconds. When she breaks away, Lenore lets out a breathy laugh. ]
Your favorite? You're playing for bonus points.
[ Her right hand slides back up to dig her thumb at the base of his throat, while her left slips down underneath the splayed fabric of her dress. It's only a moment's search for her fingers to dance along his stomach to take hold of his cock, half-pressed between them. ]
We'll have to see if you can be my favorite.
[ Lenore gives him a testing squeeze. ]
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He probably had another comment in him, but he silences himself when thumb presses to his throat, and he can't stop the smile that comes with it.
His pulse throbs in one hand, then two, once she gets her fingers around his cock. Naturally, he's made himself quite a nice one, though being unafraid of being a woman and experimenting he hasn't made an utterly awkward beast of a rod either. His body tightens up with her squeeze, Yamada's biting his lower lip to stop a moan that'd waste precious air, his jaw quivering. ]
Ah... I think I can manage it. [ He gets out once the squeeze passes, his hands gripping her sides- he'd loved to explore a little more, but she is calling the shots. ] With practice.
[ Despite his current state, his eyes have that sparkle of life that comes when he's having fun. Playing games. ]
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Lenore clicks her tongue and sing-songs the old adage; ]
"Practice makes perfect."
[ As far as Lenore is concerned, she believes she's being quite generous to allow him to keep his hands at her waist--normally she'd force them back or tie them herself, but this has become a silent test in and of itself. Will he make a move without her permission? He surely knows the right answer.
She starts to stroke his cock, slowly at first, making sure she can feel him from base to head. With each stroke, she increases the pressure at his throat, bit by bit closing her thumb and forefinger down. Her hands aren't quite big enough to encompass his neck in just one, but her inhuman strength makes up for it. ]
We'll get in a lot of good practice.
[ Her gaze dances across his, watching for any shift in his expression and, more importantly, his pleasure. ]
As long as you can handle it.
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There's still enough space for him to take a shallow intake with each stroke of his cock, when her fingers reach the head, though more shallow with each tightening. His hands do move, though it's less exploratory than he would have liked. A hand reaching for her forearm, an encouraging hold. An unspoken promise that he won't be ruining the mood this time. Sure, he does want her to feel okay... but he isn't going to ask it. Maybe in the afterglow, more subtly. If he lives that long.
Yamada keeps his eyes locked on hers, though, even when her fingers hit just the right spot, and he bites his lip so hard there's a drop of blood.
He did it deliberately, as a treat, because there's always a treat inside of threat. ]
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She generously allows Yamada that bit of movement as well, if only because he's keeping his hands on topic. Should he prove himself, he'll be provided ample time to use them to her pleasure.
Pleasure that he seems keen on offering regardless with that little bit of blood. Her pupils dilate instantly, instinct driven as the amber of her eyes nearly disappears behind black. She clicks her tongue. ]
What an eager boy you are...
[ Lenore tightens her grip considerably on his neck, using the hold to pull his head up towards hers. She licks at the few drops of blood gingerly in contrast to the rest of her ministrations. The salt and sweetness its her tongue, pleasant and tantalizing. But a little different. Not human. ]
Eager to please even when it's your job to take it.
[ She says as if she's not getting her own enjoyment from this. Watching the strain in his body, feeling his pulse beneath her fingers. Warmth pools between her legs unbidden, though Lenore concentrates on pushing Yamada further. She continues to pump him in her fist, twisting and squeezing here and there and dragging her nails along the veins.
But an offering of blood is hard to ignore. With an open wound, no matter how small, Lenore teases it open further, kneading his lip between her own teeth until she can taste blood again. ]
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His blood is rich and dark red, sticky as honey but with a metallic bite. A mingling of his human shape and remnants of prior forms. The flavour of a carnivorous beast hanging on from the wolf bat he was a moment ago. Next time might be totally different.
His body tightens all over, not to fight her, but to fight his instincts- they tell him to struggle and escape. He tells them to be silent, but the veins bulge, and the muscles quiver. His knees pull up and flatten in alternating order. He wants to eat her right back, show her the kind of fangs he can grow, but being deliciously devoured is more appealing. Briefly, when she takes her teeth to his lip, his fingernails turn to hooked claws, and his teeth rattle, sharpness travelling in a wave across them that reverts just as quickly. There's not a Night Creature conceived that can match the things he's turned into, but he's being a good boy for her, making sure she can enjoy the moment's pleasure. Perhaps knowing the effort he's putting in is all the better. He hopes so- he ruined the mood once and hopes not to again.
His voice is strained and muffled, but he still gets out an adoring moan of her name. It has a little pleading to it. For air? Mercy? For more? His cock gives him away as much as his voice- his hips push into her grip, and hot precum reaches her fingers. ]
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She does want. But she won't. She's more practical than that.
The changes are fascinating. That he controls them despite himself is equally fascinating. Pleasing. He's doing exactly as she asked and what could make her happier than that? The choked sound of her own name makes Lenore purr and she squeezes his cock hard with one equally rough pull on his lower lip.
Then she suddenly pulls back, taking what little heat her body holds with her. Her grip on his neck loosens and she allows him to fall back to the mattress if he wants. Looking down between them, she smudges the precum across Yamada's slit. ]
Very good.
[ She swipes a final drop of blood from his lip and samples his cum in tandem, licking her thumb and forefinger eagerly. ]
But not just yet. You'll finish when I allow it.
[ Lenore releases his erection, leaving it straining. She pulls up her skirts to her waist. ]
Since you're so eager to please, I've decided you can fuck me.