Two Lost Souls

Torture Me

Get the rope, tie me to the bedpost

Because I can't find within myself the happy host

If I find my peace of mind, torture me

If I seem too serene, torture me

Torture me with all I've wanted

Torture me

She wakes up to a faint tickling sensation. Her eyes protest the sudden light, so she shuts them again and tries to swat away whatever it is that is disturbing her sleep, only to have it move from her stomach to her chest, and her half asleep brain finally registers the presence hovering over her. Forcing her eyes open once more, she looks down to see Klaus blowing cool air against her skin. When she realizes that this is what roused her from her sleep, the tickling turns arousing instead of annoying and she squirms under him, trying to rub her nipple against his lips, but he pulls back, crawling up her body until he's eye level with her. She brings a hand up to his neck to try and pull him down, but he catches both of her wrists in an iron grip and pins them down to the mattress. Her gaze darts from her left hand to her right, trying to figure out what he's up to. When she brings her eyes back to his face, there's a silent question written in his, along with a challenge. At first she doesn't understand what it is he's asking, but then it hits her as their conversation about fantasies replays in her mind. Her body involuntarily arches up off the bed in anticipation and she gives an eager nod.

At that, he moves off of her, sitting back on his heels and watching her in silence. Just when she's starting to wonder if he is ever going to talk or move or something, he motions at her hands, still resting on either side of her head where he positioned them.

"Hands, higher," he commands, and she notes that he's not compelling her yet, trusting her to do as he asks.

She obeys, stretching her arms until he gives a satisfied nod and trying not to be too obvious about the fact that his hungry gaze caressing her exposed breasts at the motion is already turning her on.

"Like that?" she asks with an innocent smile that is fooling exactly no one.

"Yes. Now spread your legs. Wider," he adds after she moves them only a few inches. "Good. Bend your knees, just a little, feet on the mattress."

Once he's satisfied with her position, he settles on top of her, nestled between her thighs, his weight pushing her back against the bed, a promise of things to come, and he offers her his neck. She sinks her fangs into his flesh without hesitation, knowing that she will need his blood in her system. It's a necessary precaution given what he seems to have in store for her. Once she's drank enough to be safe, she pulls back, and his lips find hers for a brief but heated kiss. Then he looks at her and warns, "Last chance to back out."

She defiantly rubs her hips against his, raising to the challenge.

"Why? Afraid you're not going to be able to fulfill my fantasy?"

"Oh, you have no idea what you're in for, love." He leans down to speak softly against her ear. "I will have you begging in no time. And seeing as any capacity for mercy I once had is now nonexistent, all this begging will be in vain." His voice drops down to a whisper before he continues, the words felt more than they are heard as his lips lightly brush the skin of her neck with each syllable. "You will plead and scream and sob, all the while knowing that it's useless, that you will not come until I let you, and that I will only let you when I see fit." A ghost of a kiss below her ear sends a completely disproportionate jolt of excitement straight to her groin and she bucks up against him, causing him to withdraw slightly to give her a predatory grin. "You will be powerless, you will love every second of it, and you will hate the fact that you love it. You will hate me just as much as you will need me."