A Gothic Winter Tale

[janebecomes]

Jane has found herself a nook in the library and is lost in the poetry of Catullus, a translation she found that she's not seen before.

The night is starting to draw in and so her shawl is pulled tightly around her as she wonders about the kind of passion and lust that inspired such words.

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[vojvode]

And somehow, in the shifting manner of dreams, it comes to pass that he is holding both her hands between his palms. His nails are exceptionally long for a man of her time, and they are filed to points.

He caresses her skin, up to her delicate wrists, again turning her hand to expose her palm. His skin is soft, almost too thin, but the musculature beneath is solid as granite. He moves closer to her, bending to place a soft kiss on the mound of her thumb.

"You are so very beautiful," he murmurs quietly, his beard tickling the soft skin of her inner wrist. "If I were your husband, I would never leave you alone. Not for a moment. Even if it were just to watch you across the room. The mere sight of you fills a man's heart to overflowing."

[janebecomes]

His touch is gentle and feels so right though it sends shivers through Jane that leave her feeling excited. The blush on her face deepens,

"I'm not sure what I would do with a husband who watched me so. Rather that he kept close to me and talked with me so I could share all my thoughts with him."

[vojvode]

"Oh you like to talk, do you? I would read to you, and you would tell me what you thought of my -- atrocious choices in poetry." There is a smile in his voice.

"I would read to you from the Song of Solomon, my dearest." His lips part and she feels the warm swipe of his tongue over her wrist, right over her pulse.

[janebecomes]

"I am a writer."

Then she catches her breath at the feel of his tongue and stumbles slightly with her next words,

"To be read to is one of the finest things in all the world."

[vojvode]

"Would you like me to read your words?"

He has insinuated himself close to her, one arm resting across her lap, the whole world closed down to just the two of them.

"It would be like holding you in my mouth, so close to my heart."

[janebecomes]

"I would be honored though I do not have any with me."

As she tilts her head to meet his gaze, she looks young and hopeful, no one has ever said before how much her writing is truly her as he does.

[vojvode]

"It is no matter," he whispers. The shadows draw even closer around them, and it is as if the candle in the window is the only light in the whole world. The library has disappeared entirely.

He is on his knees before her, and yet their gaze is almost eye to eye. He lets her have the high ground, looking up to her with an almost worshipful gaze.

"There are other things you can place on my tongue, beautiful one."

[janebecomes]

Jane seems to have no words to reply to him and leans towards him once more, feeling as if she has so much to learn,

"What may I give you?"

[vojvode]

His hand comes up to brush the back of his knuckles against her cheek. His touch is cool, but not unpleasant, and his breath smells of roses and the earth.

"Your words are the pulse of your heart, are they not?"

[janebecomes]

"Yes, they make me who I am."

His touch keeps all her thoughts on where his hand is and her words seem to take too much breath to speak.

[vojvode]

The velvet of his voice takes on an edge, and the weight of centuries. There is a dark hunger here, and he shares it with her.

"Give me the pulse of your heart, Jane. Give me -- life."

[janebecomes]

That weight terrifies and entrances her so she leans once more towards him, she wants to understand, to know some of that dangerous, sweet darkness,

"Yes."

[vojvode]

His touch trails down to her chin, lifts it to expose the column of her throat. He bends his head and breathes her in, his lips skimming over her skin.

"I will hold you in my mouth, Jane. And your words will be a part of me for all eternity."

Cradling her head, his grip at her waist tightens as he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into that sweet flesh.

[janebecomes]

She's not sure of anything other than how close he is and how time seems to have stopped, there is only him and now.

When his teeth break her skin, she gasps in pain.

[vojvode]

He moans softly, holding her tight, keeping her close as he strokes her hair. His mouth feels like a furnace against her skin, and there is nothing more intimate than this exchange. His jaw works, the serpent tearing at the wound to keep the blood flowing.

He pours pleasure into her mind, wraps her tight in the ecstasy he feels as her life flows down his throat. Balancing the savagery with sweetness, determined to see her undone if only for a moment.

[janebecomes]

Jane's never known such passion and all of her words are lost in gasps that are almost moans as her hair starts to work loose under his hands.

[vojvode]

He drinks as much as he can without threatening her life, listening carefully to the spaces between the beats of her heart. She is strong and young, and beautiful. And he knows, her words will not need him to attain immortality.

Just a few more moments, just a few more breaths.

He twists his hand tighter in her hair, wanting to hear the pleasure on her lips.

[janebecomes]

As his hand moves in her hair, one of the gasps finally becomes a moan as she presses herself to him and her dark hair falls around her face.

[vojvode]

His lips part from her skin with a gasp, his dark eyes shot through with crimson. He watches her face as she sees his true visage.

It is the last thing she sees before his hand passes over her eyes. "Sleep. Sleep and forget." The shadows close in tight, dragging her down into darkness.

The candle gutters and is extinguished.