Pleasant Dreams

[morethanafour]

Who; Vlad Dracula and Elena Fisher.
What; Vampire-y times.
Where; Elena's Apartment
When; Tuesday Night
Rating; R for Vampiric Drinking and Adult Themes - nothing explicit however.
Status; CLOSED; COMPLETE

Comments

[morethanafour]

Elena shifted in her sleep, arm lifting then dropping to stomach as her fingers grasped at figments, twisted their hold on a person who was not there. Her brow furrowed, then smoothed as she mouthed a name, the utterance of it lost in the press of her lips together against sudden ecstasy. Her mouth opened after the pleasure of a warm fire and tender hands stroked her mental flesh. The gasp that followed was soft, plaintive, and needful.

Too easily was she caught up in the fantasy - being a romantic without a romance to call her own, being a loving heart with no one to offer her tenderness too. She accepted Vlad's illusion without question or hesitation, clinging to the hazy vision until it was clear and for all purposes real, touching her mind and offering it all the affection and satisfaction she had once known and now missed - though she would never admit it aloud.

Pride and a streak of stubbornness would always seek to prevent her waking self from pursuing the sort of lurid scene the beast sum man sum monster provided. But in the dream realm, she was all too vulnerable to what her true self wanted.

She took it all in, and, willingly, let it consume her.

[burnforalltosee]

The match, halfway to being entirely burned up, waved in the air to extinguish the flame; and, not being enough, it was stuck on a man's tongue. A man now, yes, for the hair and snout and fangs had retracted back to Vlad's human form, his visage pleasing to the eyes and his voice a modern wonder to the ears.

The dream would never be complete without a moment to bring her to the highest peak a woman could achieve. Shedding his large overcoat and placing it on the door handle, he stood at the end of his bed and watched the scene before him. Fingers grasping for that which was gone, no longer wanting to hold a dog but instead wanting to hold a head of smooth hair, whether to hold against her shoulder or between her nether region, well, it depended on how far her land of fantastical romance delved. He provided strong illusions, but it was impossible without garish desires to go along with it.

Elena, was the name dripping so beautifully from her imagined partner's tongue, so commanding and enthralled. Elena, the sweet blonde who had been injured and only wanted to know more, more, and beyond what could be given. The petite woman he knelt on one side, hand moving to push aside locks of her golden crown out of her face. Hands, so warm and kind, moved from her jawline and down to her collarbone, intensifying the wanton nature of it all. He would not delve into the wound, not in the least. It would not do to take advantage of an already open wound.

A vision of loveliness lies before me.

His other knee went to her other side, dark hair falling about and touching the soft skin of her arms as he leaned just so, taking in the sight beneath him before going any further.

[morethanafour]

The woman twisted softly beneath both vision and touch, but it was not a discomforted movement, rather a desiring one. Elena felt both the campfire's warm redness and the twining of her and her partner's warm and desperate bodies, protected from the cold by the sheath of wrapped blankets.

Lips met and mouths caressed skin as often as touched hair or tongue. Hands dwelt and lingered, but also moved when emotion was fully aroused, seeking every inch of needful flesh. And bodies, bodies pressed together without a hint of question or painful hesitation, there was nothing to part them - nothing to keep them apart ever again.

The world was theirs to travel and explore as much as they were each other's to hold and love.

She murmured the name again, desperation making her gasp, need making her voice a indistinct whimper, the man's identity masked again by the intensity of increasing breath.

[burnforalltosee]

A well-endowed chest rising and falling, hands moving at the speed of light, lingering at a snail's pace as her dream progressed and turned into something needing even more than that which was provided in her thrall.

What was Vlad then, if not generous?

Trimmed facial hair brushed almost timidly against a heaving, struggling neck, tongue wetting too-red lips. He twisted his head to the side as a guttural sound rang out, one of discomfort and also of expectancy, as canines grew and eyes blazed from impossibly black to disastrously red. Red eyes, long fangs, the woman beneath him emanating heat as her blood boiled and her entire body grew feverish from longing.

She would cry out in both dream and reality as he bite down upon that neck, his bejeweled hand coming to the other side of her neck to hold her still. He knew perfectly well how and where to draw the life stuffs within her, but if she would not be still, then it would not be on his head that more was spilled without his intention.

[morethanafour]

Lucky for them both it was that moment that the vision, the illusion, the dream that felt more real than any dream should be, descended on that point when poised stillness came, when all expectations and pleasures coalesced into a single note and cry of finality. She was utterly still in his grasp after that, the gentle kisses of her partner melding with the soft glow and hazy pulse of efforts well accomplished.

Soft noises did leave her lips as the draining of lifeblood went on, but they were more the low idyllic murmurs of two lovers enjoying the after-aura of bliss. There was no awareness of what went on outside her mind, no hint that the wrapping of her loved one's body about hers was nothing more than a cloak to hold her senses away from the thievery that was being done upon it.

Only once did Elena lift her hand from her chest, trailing briefly her fingers against Vlad's face, knowing another's visage beneath the touch of her hand.

[burnforalltosee]

Ah, yes, the lifeblood, the force of the universe that was humanity, how lovely and gratifying a feast it was! It was his first meal, as it would equate to for a human being, since he had arrived, and it would do very poorly for him to drink as greedily as he had of the redhead back in London, from the gaudy young woman who he fully intended to drain to death or turn to unlife.

The hand around her neck gripped much tighter now, something to ground him as the ethereal feeling of her filling him called him higher, higher, to great heights of primitive pleasure. If he allowed himself to lose control over such things, which he would not, the illusion would not serve well at all.

Finally, her face paling, her skin turning slightly grey, he withdrew and pulled back to simply straddle her as he took in great gulps of air he had no real need for. Still, to clear his mind, swimming in grandiosity, some simple, human movements were necessary.

[morethanafour]

And there the woman lay, victim and gifted both, for in what other way could she have enjoyed that touch, the lingering pleasure and vision of which still dwelt in her mind, coyly touching her with promises of further intimacy later, when both were rested?

Elena sighed softly as Vlad pulled away, true sleep coming all too swiftly now that blood had been taken and her consciousness began to ebb and flow away with the strength that had left with it.

[burnforalltosee]

Vlad rested on his haunches, as it they were called, strong legs feeling no discomfort at the position for however long he chose to remain that way. This realm, this second abode, was truly his territory now, now and in any form he ever chose to take. Were he to be forced to become so small to enter, then that was what he would do. If others rose to stand for her, they would be cut down, he would lay waste to them in a bloody, tame battle without any hesitation. He had seen no churches of the Lamb he had overcome, had seen no signs of the cross which bore his shame and that of the world, no priests to anoint any water to be holy...no, here he would flourish as he had in his great and proud homeland. Here, he would rule. Nothing, god or angel or devil, would strike him down.

A hand ran idly down her chest, over a still breast and down to her navel before it and its partner rose to move hair out of his face, to wipe away the remnants of blood he could not reach with a tongue.

There was a saying, that a man did not piss where he lived. Vlad was more than a man, but any man encountering such a phrase was less than a man, and certainly less than vrolok. Regaining his composure, his fangs retracting, his eyes dimming and darkening, he stood to tarry to the bathroom where he washed his face and neck, still thrilling from the excitement of both of mind and body.

A rag was dipped in soapy water, another in simple water at its purest. It was in order to wash her neck and chest, to make sure she would only see marks and not alarm at the sight of more blood. Her chest, too, was wiped of its glistening, and he moved to the bathroom yet again to take hold of a brush and untangle the knots that had arisen. Were she to wake, which would be nigh impossible, it was no issue to shift into Sir Francis yet again.

[morethanafour]

The journalist stirred only faintly, only the briefest shifting as the water tickled and goosebumped pale flesh - paler now due to Vlad's hungry intentions. She mumbled incoherently in deepest sleep, not to wake until likely much late into the afternoon, and she the type to be up with the sun.

She shivered once, as his movement away stirred the moistened flesh, then stilled again, not once moving as he took the time to sort out his locks with the brush. It did not seem as if she would waken for some time, certainly not until long past the time of the sun's rising.

[burnforalltosee]

He whistled lowly to himself as long hair returned to its proper place and dark eyes narrowed between long lashes. His face was much more human now, in colour and in rosiness about the cheeks, any wrinkles around his eyes having been long gone with the satisfaction her blood had provided him. How young he could look, he wondered, if he fed as regularly as the other "vampires" here seemed to do. What a strange though that was to have!

He turned back to the room holding his first victim, shutting the door just so as he pulled the coat back on. Candles were blown out and put away, the sides of wax that had accumulated scraped off and into the trash.

The great dog turned to her bed once more, mounting it with relative ease. She would have to move things around soon. Surely, should the man she dreamed of be in this place, he would help. If not, what a fool, she ought to forget him.

Golden eyes closed and he turned to lay against her, curled tail resting over thighs. He may have been the dog in this moment, but it was no longer a guess as to who was Master.