He's obsessed, insane even. He has to know her, watch her, touch her. She's his, and nothing will stop him. But she's smarter than he thinks.. ••• "You call me if he bothers you ever again, yeah?" "It's really nothing I-" he cuts me off "You'll call me." He says firmer "okay?" "Okay" I say softly, looking up at him. He's so fucking close to me. We just stand there for a moment and I'm having trouble remembering how to breathe. He leans closer, gently tilting my head up so that my eyes stay on him. "Good girl"

THIS IS OLD. MISTAKES ABOUND! YOUVE BEEN WARNED! I don't know... I guess you'll just have to read it to find out. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to give me some feedback on it. Warning - this story contains sex (I will give a warning when it comes up) Cover art is mine.

His irises swirled slowly, an enticing pale silver against his stark black lashes. They illuminated slightly, so quick it was gone in a blink. He broke our eye contact, lifting his head straight. A darkly amused expression appeared. It happened so quickly it seemed like a mask appeared. I blinked myself out of my trance, and turned on my heel to see what was at the receiving end of his humor. Augustus stood there. His face contorted into anger as he took in my ruined dress. His hands shook in his fury. "Roman." Augustus nearly snarled the name. "Have you come to join us, little King? The party was just getting started." So his name was Roman, some big secret. I rolled my eyes at the reveal as well as his taunting sentence. "Davina, what is going on here?" Augustus asked, his eyes full of betrayal. I had never seen him so guarded. I could feel his anger through my bones. His words were careful. What was he talking about? My brows furrowed at the insinuation, "What?" A line of smoke floated around my right shoulder and come between Augustus and I. How convenient. I had the desire to swipe it away but didn't. "What can I say, she...seduced me." Roman purred. His voice was a sensual whisper in my left ear. I subconsciously lifted my shoulder and backed away from it. Not only because he had lost his fucking mind, but also because it shot down my spine, caressing my skin. ** This book contains mature content. I will not give a maturity warning in advance, besides this one. The list of trigger warnings is as follows: DARK THEMES/violence/sex/mature language/r*pe/blood/beatings/war/torture/death/dominance/weapons/selfharm/suicide ** This book is 100% my original work. Any parallels between this writing, and another book are strictly coincidental.

He looked over at me in the dimness, fingers loose in my grip. "You are hurting me," he said, without interest. He had caked powder on his already pale skin, all of one shade except for points made by a hot pencil. Though it was no longer the mode at court, the new fashion more ostentatious and overdrawn, he still favored it, and as I did. My fingers crept up his wrist. I felt rough punctures, half healed and raw, a scattering of them, and I pulled. Laurent could not resist, weakened by the drawing of his blood. My vocal cords had been severed by the younger one's teeth, and so I could not speak, but I pushed up his sleeve, the luxury of his white linen, and found his arm colored like a polluted river. I touched the bites with my fingertips, ten, fifteen, twenty. "I have felt your judgment already," L whispered, trying to pull his arm back, "I have felt it these now two hundred years. Judgment judgment. Cry not. Is it pity? You are a cold thing, without heart, to judge me for what I do. Prideful toad." His arm muscles worked against my grip beneath his blood bruised skin. "Unhand me. Wretched, lye-broken flesh." After a time, he made a sound like a trapped fox, a dying child's keen, and gave up, lying back on the bed such that his hair fell across my face. My other hand found his neck and stroked him. "You will not know what it feels like, good heart," he said to me, softly, doing me one of his gentle nips of an insult, "for love to change you in an instant." He relaxed under my stroking, and his tone softened. "I only meant to help him die." ** After his untimely death, the story of the vampire "L" comes together. Devotees tell the story from many points of view across history, painting a portrait of a man crushed by great loves, desperation, and the indifferent march of time. featured 3/9/16 complete 8/31/16 Editing, as of 5/11/2018. Log: 0/129 chapters edited. 0 added. Cover by @ferret-bird

"Are you alright, Darling?" Vanya slyly asks as I sit on her lap and she bumps her knee up and down, hitting every sensitive spot. I bury my face in her neck, gasping for air, my nails digging into her back as she keeps lifting her knee towards my core. She's barely doing anything and I'm already a mess, and she knows it. Her hand darts to my neck, gently squeezing the sides of it, leaving just enough space for me to breathe and answer her as she demands that I answer her. "Answer me, Darling. Tell your daddy what's wrong," she demands, forcing me to look into her eyes, never stopping her knee movements. As she presses her knee into my core, she starts moving her knee in small circles, enjoying my quiet whimpers and moans. "I'm alright," I finally answer. Vanya, with a sly smile, roughly kisses me, slipping her tongue into my mouth as I gasp. Her hands drift from my throat to my hips, rolling up my skirt until she can fiddle with the elastic band of my underwear, picking it off my skin and letting go so that it slaps against my skin. I moan at the feeling. Vanya gently lifts my hips, never giving me a chance to break my lips away from hers as she moves my underwear to the side, slipping her dick into me, my walls stretching wide around her, struggling to adjust to her size. I stop her as she starts thrusting deeply and quickly into me, unable to handle the overstimulation. "Come on, Darling. You can take it for me, can't you?" She hisses in my ear. "Now why don't you ride daddy's dick like the good girl you are. Don't worry about being quiet either. My office is soundproof." **** A girl who, as a joke with a friend, who claimed while drunk to possess magic, tells them to prove it. Little did she know she should have been more specific... It's been 200 years since that joke.