I suck the night wind into my lungs, and it surrounds me like a balm. It seeps under my clothes, caressing my skin and prickling along my nerves. The crickets, the dog howling across town, the bat that swoops overhead....they all call my name. In a house down the street, there is a child huddling under his sheets with a lantern. In an alley two streets over a man taking a shortcut starts at a shadow. A woman throws open her bedroom window and leans out to smell the moonflowers opening in her yard. They all worship me, in their own way, and so does the woman walking with me when she slips off her shoes to trail her feet in the night-damp grass. They still know me, even if they have forgotten my name.
Her house...oh, I couldn't have hoped for better. It is a temple, the closest thing I have had to one in millenia. An ancient manor that groans with the weight of its years and the voices of the ghosts still wandering its halls. If I concentrate, I can hear music and the shuffle of long-ago feet as they move in some forgotten dance. My little magpie lives the life of a ghost. I wonder if she even realizes she's dead.
Her eyes, when she turns to me, are as wide and white as the moon.
"Gaua gauekoentzat eta eguna egunekoentzat." I hiss, and step towards her. She backs up, her bare feet slapping against the marble. ""Gaua gauekoentzat eta eguna egunekoentzat. The night for night spirits and the day for day spirits." I've backed her against the wall, the grass-stained hem of her dress draping my boots. I lean over her, taking her shoulders in my hands. I'm probably bruising her, but I don't care. "Gauekoentzat..." I murmur as I bend to kiss her.
She mewls into my mouth, a miserably panicked noise, and her fingers tangle in my clothes, ripping my shirt and clawing at the leather of my coat. Panicked little rabbit, she can't decide whether to fight or flee or just give up and lay down. One minute she's scrabbling against me pushing so hard she might break through the wall, the next she's moaning and clutching me, breathing the night into her lungs, letting it flood her veins. Little magpie. Little gauekoentzat.
"You know I'm going to have you, Anushka," I murmur, curling my tongue around her name the way I'd curled it in her mouth. She's pressed against my chest, my coat surrounding her like the wings of a great bird. She shakes like a dead leaf clinging to an autumn branch. "It can go easy on you or not. You're mine now, and I am perfectly happy to rape you right here on the floor. But I give you the choice." I loosen my grip on her enough so that I can look into her eyes. "Gaua gauekoentzat, the night for night spirits. Fight me or let me in?"
She says my name again, so soft I can barely hear her. But even if she'd just thought it I would know. It's like her fingers skating across my face and brushing my throat, like her whiskey-scented breath along my skin. "Gaueko."
I sigh and relax. It's not that I would mind being brutal, but if we're going to live here together it might be easier if she got some pleasure out of the deal. So I lay my hands on her cheeks, stroking that tzarina's face of hers. "If you want it on a bed, then you'd best show me where to go," I say, and not without good humor.
She's leaning into my touch now, learning to enjoy it, learning to crave it, and that's very good. She all but kisses my hand as I stroke her cheek. Good. Very, very good. And it's even better when she leaves the door open as she leads me upstairs. The night wind follows us and sings in my ears.
She's watching me out of the corner of her eye as she leads me by the hand, past empty rooms and dusty halls and the sound of long-ago music. Still trying to figure me out, and still wary of me. Also good. I don't want her entirely unafraid of me, but a terrified rabbit is of no use to anyone.
Her room is slightly better maintained than the rest of the house,but there is still dust on the floor, shadows in the corner. The bed is draped in old wolf and bear furs, and I can smell dead leaves from the gardens and the evaporated remains of perfumes. Ghosts of beasts, ghosts of flowers, ghosts of trees...all of them are part of her. She lives with them, she breathes them every day, cloaks herself in them. That's alright, little magpie. I'm quite comfortable with ghosts. I think you'll find ghosts are quite comfortable with me.
I let her take her time, removing the brilliant diamonds from around her neck. She does not ask me to help with her dress, and I let her have this last moment of control before I take her completely. She stands there, pale and naked and shivering in a puddle of grey silk. Still watching me with those magpie eyes, those wolf eyes.
Now I step out of the shadows, shrugging my coat off and leaving it on the floor with her dress. When I touch her face her skin is icy. "Neska ederra," I murmur. "Lovely lady." Ah, she's frozen, and I pull her against me to warm her. I touch my lips to her eyelids, and she makes a soft moaning noise. "Lasai," I hush her, and slide one hand to the small of her back, the other to her shoulderblades. In another moment I have laid her down on the furs. A gentle kiss on her lips, then her throat, feeling her pulse against my mouth. Her collarbone, between her breasts, working my way down....the night can be frightening, but it can be gentle when it chooses, and for now, I choose to be gentle.
That's better, now. She's whimpering and clutching at me, running her fingers through my hair and lightly scratching my neck. And she's dripping wet. I let my tongue flick against her through her panties and she squeals, jerking her hips up to press into my mouth. Almost broke my nose there, noble lady, I think with a grin.
Laying on hand on her pale belly I sit up so that I can shrug my shirt off and cast it aside. "Anushka." I say.
For a minute, she doesn't respond. JUst lays back and shivers and makes those eager whimpering noise. I could listen to her all night, but..."Anushka,"
Her eyes flick open and I grin. I haven't let her turn on any lights, so all that reflects in them is the bone-white moon. I stroke my hand up and down her thigh, "Ask me, Anushka."
It has been entirely too long since I last had a person beg me. She grips my wrist in her cold little hand and she pleads with me in Russian. It's almost as good as hearing her say my name. Almost. I want to make her say it again, I want to make her grovel on the furs and plead for me...but no. That can come later. For now, she's been a good little girl. She can have a treat.
I hook two fingers under the band of the panties and, in one sharp motion, rip them off her. She jumps, the elastic cutting into her pale skin. The shreds of cloth are thrown aside and I spread her thighs with my hands.
She makes a low whining noise when I brush her clit with my tongue. She's dripping wet, and I slide two fingers in her with no trouble at all. Her fingers are in my hair again, and she's moaning like a trapped animal, pushing herself against me while her hands tremble and her heart thunders.
Tongue and lips and teeth...yes, teeth. Just a little pain to go with the pressure. Never hard enough to make her bleed, but hard enough to remind her exactly what is going on and what I could do to her. The night for night spirits, ghostly lady,. I pin her clitoris between my teeth, flicking my tongue over it rapidly. She shrieks.
When I pull back from her she's curled, shaking on the furs. She whines miserably when I move away from her. She's already craving me, my touch, my voice. That fact arouses me even more than the taste of her. Of course, she tasted mighty fine too. Her little hand paws for me, beating anxiously at my side, and I edge forward a little ways. The rest she was to work for.
Finally she sits up, mewling like a kitten for its mother's milk, and scrambles into my lap. She continues that desperate mewing as she licks her juices from my face, moaning and kissing and nipping at my skin. I hold firm, letting her smear herself along my thigh, rub her still-covered breasts across my chest, until her sounds begin to take on a real edge of desperation. I let her claw at my belt for a few minutes before shoving her hands aside. She scuttles backwards on all fours, watching me with feral eyes as I unbuckle the belt and slide my pants off. The night wind moans around me, and for a few minutes I just enjoy the feel of her eyes on me, the feel of her worship, like a balm.
She whimpers again and starts to edge forward. Enough. I hold up one hand and say, "Roll over."
Defiance glitters in her eyes, and her lip curls to show the white glimmer of her teeth. Beautiful little she-wolf. I like a little steel in my lovers, but she's still learning her place, and too much defiance isn't good at this stage. I'm about to demonstrate this to her when she finally starts to turn over. She goes slow, but what counts is the obedience.
Finally she turns onto her belly and presents herself to me. A beautiful Russian woman, bathed in moonlight and posing on a wolfskin. It's an image worth savouring. She's shivering again, goosebumps raising a relief on her pale skin, but she took her time so I will pay her back by taking mine. After a few minutes I stroke my hand along the small of her back, then bring it down across her ass. She yelps again, and I can see she's playing with herself. Grinning, I slid my hand still lower and slide two fingers in her again. Her one free hand claws at the wolfskin and she clenches glove-tight around my hand. I think for a minute that I might have trouble removing them. But I manage, then just sit back and enjoy the view for another few minutes. She's shaking and whimpering, but when she tries to turn her head to look at me I make a low growling noise. Good girl, she stops turning, lets her head hang. Very good.
I take a deep breath, inhale her musk mingling with the spectres of the house and the woods, the night air and the smoke. "And you were so sure it would be the latter." I murmur to her as I lay my hands on her hips and the dead music echoes around us. I position myself and bend over her, feeling her cold back against my chest. She whimpers and shivers against me. "Gaua gauekoentzat, my she-wolf." I say, and shove myself inside her with no further warning.
Her house...oh, I couldn't have hoped for better. It is a temple, the closest thing I have had to one in millenia. An ancient manor that groans with the weight of its years and the voices of the ghosts still wandering its halls. If I concentrate, I can hear music and the shuffle of long-ago feet as they move in some forgotten dance. My little magpie lives the life of a ghost. I wonder if she even realizes she's dead.
Her eyes, when she turns to me, are as wide and white as the moon.
"Gaua gauekoentzat eta eguna egunekoentzat." I hiss, and step towards her. She backs up, her bare feet slapping against the marble. ""Gaua gauekoentzat eta eguna egunekoentzat. The night for night spirits and the day for day spirits." I've backed her against the wall, the grass-stained hem of her dress draping my boots. I lean over her, taking her shoulders in my hands. I'm probably bruising her, but I don't care. "Gauekoentzat..." I murmur as I bend to kiss her.
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"You know I'm going to have you, Anushka," I murmur, curling my tongue around her name the way I'd curled it in her mouth. She's pressed against my chest, my coat surrounding her like the wings of a great bird. She shakes like a dead leaf clinging to an autumn branch. "It can go easy on you or not. You're mine now, and I am perfectly happy to rape you right here on the floor. But I give you the choice." I loosen my grip on her enough so that I can look into her eyes. "Gaua gauekoentzat, the night for night spirits. Fight me or let me in?"
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I sigh and relax. It's not that I would mind being brutal, but if we're going to live here together it might be easier if she got some pleasure out of the deal. So I lay my hands on her cheeks, stroking that tzarina's face of hers. "If you want it on a bed, then you'd best show me where to go," I say, and not without good humor.
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She's watching me out of the corner of her eye as she leads me by the hand, past empty rooms and dusty halls and the sound of long-ago music. Still trying to figure me out, and still wary of me. Also good. I don't want her entirely unafraid of me, but a terrified rabbit is of no use to anyone.
Her room is slightly better maintained than the rest of the house,but there is still dust on the floor, shadows in the corner. The bed is draped in old wolf and bear furs, and I can smell dead leaves from the gardens and the evaporated remains of perfumes. Ghosts of beasts, ghosts of flowers, ghosts of trees...all of them are part of her. She lives with them, she breathes them every day, cloaks herself in them. That's alright, little magpie. I'm quite comfortable with ghosts. I think you'll find ghosts are quite comfortable with me.
I let her take her time, removing the brilliant diamonds from around her neck. She does not ask me to help with her dress, and I let her have this last moment of control before I take her completely. She stands there, pale and naked and shivering in a puddle of grey silk. Still watching me with those magpie eyes, those wolf eyes.
Now I step out of the shadows, shrugging my coat off and leaving it on the floor with her dress. When I touch her face her skin is icy. "Neska ederra," I murmur. "Lovely lady." Ah, she's frozen, and I pull her against me to warm her. I touch my lips to her eyelids, and she makes a soft moaning noise. "Lasai," I hush her, and slide one hand to the small of her back, the other to her shoulderblades. In another moment I have laid her down on the furs. A gentle kiss on her lips, then her throat, feeling her pulse against my mouth. Her collarbone, between her breasts, working my way down....the night can be frightening, but it can be gentle when it chooses, and for now, I choose to be gentle.
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Laying on hand on her pale belly I sit up so that I can shrug my shirt off and cast it aside. "Anushka." I say.
For a minute, she doesn't respond. JUst lays back and shivers and makes those eager whimpering noise. I could listen to her all night, but..."Anushka,"
Her eyes flick open and I grin. I haven't let her turn on any lights, so all that reflects in them is the bone-white moon. I stroke my hand up and down her thigh, "Ask me, Anushka."
Reply
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I hook two fingers under the band of the panties and, in one sharp motion, rip them off her. She jumps, the elastic cutting into her pale skin. The shreds of cloth are thrown aside and I spread her thighs with my hands.
She makes a low whining noise when I brush her clit with my tongue. She's dripping wet, and I slide two fingers in her with no trouble at all. Her fingers are in my hair again, and she's moaning like a trapped animal, pushing herself against me while her hands tremble and her heart thunders.
Tongue and lips and teeth...yes, teeth. Just a little pain to go with the pressure. Never hard enough to make her bleed, but hard enough to remind her exactly what is going on and what I could do to her. The night for night spirits, ghostly lady,. I pin her clitoris between my teeth, flicking my tongue over it rapidly. She shrieks.
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Finally she sits up, mewling like a kitten for its mother's milk, and scrambles into my lap. She continues that desperate mewing as she licks her juices from my face, moaning and kissing and nipping at my skin. I hold firm, letting her smear herself along my thigh, rub her still-covered breasts across my chest, until her sounds begin to take on a real edge of desperation. I let her claw at my belt for a few minutes before shoving her hands aside. She scuttles backwards on all fours, watching me with feral eyes as I unbuckle the belt and slide my pants off. The night wind moans around me, and for a few minutes I just enjoy the feel of her eyes on me, the feel of her worship, like a balm.
She whimpers again and starts to edge forward. Enough. I hold up one hand and say, "Roll over."
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Finally she turns onto her belly and presents herself to me. A beautiful Russian woman, bathed in moonlight and posing on a wolfskin. It's an image worth savouring. She's shivering again, goosebumps raising a relief on her pale skin, but she took her time so I will pay her back by taking mine. After a few minutes I stroke my hand along the small of her back, then bring it down across her ass. She yelps again, and I can see she's playing with herself. Grinning, I slid my hand still lower and slide two fingers in her again. Her one free hand claws at the wolfskin and she clenches glove-tight around my hand. I think for a minute that I might have trouble removing them. But I manage, then just sit back and enjoy the view for another few minutes. She's shaking and whimpering, but when she tries to turn her head to look at me I make a low growling noise. Good girl, she stops turning, lets her head hang. Very good.
I take a deep breath, inhale her musk mingling with the spectres of the house and the woods, the night air and the smoke. "And you were so sure it would be the latter." I murmur to her as I lay my hands on her hips and the dead music echoes around us. I position myself and bend over her, feeling her cold back against my chest. She whimpers and shivers against me. "Gaua gauekoentzat, my she-wolf." I say, and shove myself inside her with no further warning.
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