Oh, My Darling (Estaban) - Frederico's Haven

Her lips quirked upward in a sultry smirk.

"We should get along ... well enough, at least. Wouldn't you agree?"

He laughed, one finger running along the top of the wine glass.

"Oh I most assuredly agree. I would love to find out you are not going to be threatening Ra'idah any time soon but I have a feeling I will just have to put that on the back burner. So lovely sister, where do we find our common ground so we can be pleasant?

His eyes moved from his glass to her form. They were almost rude with the attention they gave her.

She laughed merrily, giving him a cute little face with a little bit of a nose-wrinkle.

"Again, that depends on you. What do you have to offer me, for all of my pain and suffering?"

She even pouted at him.

He smiled at that poor pout.

"Oh my poor sister. Unfortunately All I have to offer you is myself. It is not much..."

He set down the wine glass and held out his arms.

"But it is right here id you wish it."

She rose from the chair fluidly, as graceful as a cat. Unlike him, though, she didn't sit her glass down. Far from it. His arms were open, and rather than sitting on his lap, she turned so that she could straddle him. One knee at each hip, slowly, one right after the other. She settled onto his thighs with another little smirk as she sipped wine from her glass.

"I think you and I should make up for some lost time."

Her voice had lowered, become much more husky and quiet. Though she was still talking.

"Darling brother, how can I ever soothe the hurt feelings that I've caused you? Bridge this gap of tension between us?"

Shock and awe... she looked sincere.

His eyes followed her closely though his hands never moved as she took her place on his thighs. He had a smirk of his own as he noted the feel of her against him. He could admit to himself just how good she felt.

"Making up is why I am here, sweet sister."

His hands now came up and swept her hair back from her face, lightly touching the side of her face, her cheeks, her ears. They worked their way back till he softly held onto her neck with both hands.

"The best way to cross a chasm is to fill it. How about we take as long as you need for us to get to know each other. You and I just need to be closer."

His mouth was suddenly much closer to her, lips coming close but not quite touching.

"You do not mind closer, do you?"

I said that she looked sincere, not that she was sincere. She tilted her head, listening to him as he spoke to her. She didn't mind the touched, those sweet little sensual brushed of his fingers against her. When he came closer, her eyes became a little heavier, though she made no move to bring herself closer to him. Her voice lowered, became a sensual whisper. So close together, yet somehow still so far away.

"It's a very large chasm, my brother. I don't mind you working to fill it, though."

He didn't move any closer to her, his lips staying right where they were, a hairs breathe away from hers.

"A large chasm? Does that mean there is much between us? Or simply you need to be filled as many times as possible? Not that I have a problem with either one, I just wish to know what to expect."

One hand stayed on her neck but the other moved slowly over her back and body, to rub one of her thighs where she straddled him.

"I do good work, I promise you. Highly skilled."

She shifted in his lap, just enough to press closer to him. With her hips, though the rest of her didn't come closer. Her lips toyed with a smile, leaning just close enough so that her lips brushed his with the movement of speaking. But she wasn't kissing him, not yet. Her hand did slide into his hair, giving it a little tug, but beyond that, she was still just a little bit aloof.

"Perhaps a little of both, my brother. I do hope that we can come to some sort of agreement."

He smiled, his lips touching hers along the way but only peripherally. He shifted a little himself, letting her feel his hips as well,

"Oh, I am all for coming to an understanding, meeting in the middle, grinding out a solution...and then repeating."

She drew in a breath as he shifted under her. She seemed to purr again, a quiet sound from her throat, lifting the glass in her hand and draining the contents before sitting it behind her on the table. Her hands drifted around his neck again, her brow lifting teasingly upward.

"Such sweet things you say, dear brother. Though I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to ... show me ... what you mean."

Her lips quirked again, a teasing smirk replacing the smile that tugged at her lips.

"Well if you must..."

He smirked back just before moving that extra little bit, his lips touching hers softly, gently. A soft kiss, but one that grew in intensity as each moment passed. His hands now pulled her close to him, let her feel his heat through her clothing.

Her lips were warm, tasting of heat and wine. Her arms slipped around him, a soft little purr coming from her throat when he kissed her. It was almost a moan, her breasts sliding along his chest as she moved closer. Her hips rolled, pressing hard against his own as she writhed gently above him. No words came from her. None were needed as she pulled him closer, her hands slipping below the collar of his shirt, fingers already gently working to undo the buttons she found there.

No words were fine with him. Every time they spoke something wrong happened. It was hard for things to got too wrong as long as they kept their mouths busy. He let out a sound that was a half groan half growl as she moved over him.

His hands moved across her mid-drift, feeling her skin and reaction. They moved slowly up to the edge of her shirt, slipping under and feeling the warm skin against his hands. He moved a little under her, making those succulent thighs under her skirt part further.

And his kiss matched her, touch for touch, taste for taste, a sensual treat.

Her reaction was much different than Ra'idah's were. Ra'idah chased his hands, trying to get his touch. But Rosita was much different. She made him chase her body. To someone viewing it, it looked like nearly the same movements of limb and torso, body and thigh. But it had a distinctly different feel to it. There was no shortage of heat, however, and the heat was what made her thighs part for his hands, made her groan against his mouth.

Her lips were full and sweet, tasting of the wine that they had been drinking, and she used them. Not yet using her teeth, she used her lips to trap his own, just the barest hint of her tongue brushing against his warm mouth. A little bit of a tease, though he already knew that was the sort of thing she preferred. Her hands continued with his shirt, gently opening it, button by button, so that her hands could slide easily over his shoulders, feeling the warmth of the flesh beneath.

Oh, he knew his sister at least a little. She wanted to tease and that was fine. He knew those tricks and played them well himself. She wanted to him to chase and so he would, but only giving her enough till she wanted more, before his hands chased another lovely spot.

He matched her heat and her passion, his hands slowly moving her top up to show the perfect brownish nipples, his fingers playing them, teasing them until they stood erect and actually craved his attention.

His mouth tasted of wine and blood and heat. His lips opened to breath her in. He had no problem taking his time, playing the game without words, letting her set the speed but not necessarily the intensity.

It was, by all accounts, something that said that she would be moving slowly. Intense, but slowly, as this was meant for the two of them to learn one another. To maybe, through this art that they both knew so well, gain an understanding or at least come to peace with one another. Not that she had any real intention of letting that happen, but it mattered not the reality, the way it felt was important.

His hands found her breasts, found that her nipples were more than a little willing to seek his attention. His hands were warm, but so was she. Warm and beautiful, the little woman above him writhed to both chase his hands and make him chase her. It wasn't just his show, it wasn't just hers. As his hands teased her flesh, her own teased his. Light little brushes of fingertip and nail, teasing his own nipples with a skill that Estaban was familiar with. It was something, he had little doubt, that had been taught by Frederico.

Her mouth was warm, drinking in the taste and the feel of him, lips and now teeth trapping his lip with gentle pressure. She tugged at him, just with her mouth, the soft sighs of pleasure at each touch vibrating against his lips. Her hips rolled as well, that sweet promise of the feel of her beneath the clothing that obscured her from sight and touch. But the promise, that magic, was still there, and she pressed her heat against him.

Maybe she did not plan on letting him see the real her, but just in the way she tried to manipulate everything, in her little ways, she revealed so much. He could see that her words meant nothing. That it was all about her even if she said it was about family. He was starting to understand more and more. He had no problem playing this game either.

She was beautiful, more than him, more like his sire. He knew he was not the best looking of the family, and that would stay with him. He had known for some time. But he had found out how to make up for it. He had a magnetism that few others of his age could match, A natural ability to draw others to him, not to mention the ability to manipulate that attraction.

Her fingers teased his own chest and nipples in a manner very similar to the way Frederico and he reacted. Not as well as he would to frederico. In fact something in the way he reacted seemed to say he was missing something. His body seemed to move in a way as if seeking some little thing left out, some little extra touch and there was just a hint that showed it was missed. Even if she touched him exactly the same. And of course his face showed nothing because...that wouldn't be polite.

No, his face showed just how much he as enjoying this, enjoying his sister, needed his sister. Somehow, as he watched her, as he touched her and was touched by her, she became the center of his world, the only thing he saw or wanted to see. She was everything. Everything he needed and everything he wanted. He reacted to her roll, her movement and her promise. He wanted her.


And he would have to thank Orrie later.

She seemed pleased. Her hips rolled and he answered her, a little growl coming from her throat as their lips continued to taste and tease. She was deepening the kiss, sliding her hands back up and over his chest to slide his shirt fully off of him. No longer just open, but over his shoulders, to shed him of the offending garment that hampered what she wanted.

But she still moved slowly. Oh, she couldn't handle nearly as much teasing as Frederico, that much was for certain. But she could handle quite a bit, more than many women he had been with. She was learning, she just had not fully learned yet. Her hands roamed over his shoulders, pulling him close to her. She wanted him, that much was in her face as she let her head fall back. She was offering him her throat and a long, lust-filled moan escaped into the room.

Her hips rolled against his again, that same promise there, though just a little more intense this time. And the slow smile tugged at her lips, her chocolate-brown eyes searching his as she leaned back up, bringing her mouth to his for another long, slow kiss.

He was more than happy to help her take his shirt off of him, letting the material drift behind them to the floor and returning the seep kiss, with all the intensity she gave. After all, this was about giving her what she wanted, all that she wanted, as much as she wanted.

She might be good at patience and holding up to teasing, but he was sure to be better. He had been pleasing Frederico for many decades and if there was anything Frederico liked, it was control and being able to tease till a person could no longer stand it. The longer one lasted, the better Frederico liked it. AS long as they gave in when he wanted them to.

When she presented her throat, he took the chance and nibbled at the soft white flesh even more, teeth and tongue working in harmony to bring the most shiver inducing sensations he knew how to bring. He growled a little as he did, a growl that turned into a groan as she pressed against him again. He gasped and brought his head up, just in time for her to bring her lips back to his for that kiss. He understood, she wanted to be teased but wanted to be in control as well. She was learning a lot from their sire, including his habits.

God she was going to be a handful.

That was actually probably an understatement. Let's be honest. Her mouth claimed his, rather than kissed him again. There was little doubt that it was a claiming, her lips and teeth and tongue moving against his, tasting him as much as kissing him.

Her hands found his shoulders, reaching behind him. She knew, had been told, of his own likes and dislikes. She raked her nails over his shoulders, a low growl starting in her throat. Oh, there was little doubt that she wanted him, that she wanted to make his own heat and passion rise. It wasn't just the sweet teasing to the point she could no longer stand it.

No, not this time. Now it was a matter of fire. She could burn him with hers, or they could see what kind of heat built between them. It was, after all, his choice. She hadn't moved to remove her own clothing, hadn't moved to remove the rest from him. But her hips rolled again, pressing hard against him, almost daring him to touch her, or take her. Or even tease her more. It was a matter of what he wanted.

Now that was unfair. She knew his weaknesses and preferences but he did not know hers. Truly an unfair advantage. Not that he was complaining. even a little bit. His back arched under her fingernails, pressing his bare chest against her.

She was testing him again and he did not plan on failing this test. He matched her in passion as his mouth met hers. There's was not a kiss at all but a slow, hot passionate wrestling match of tongue lips and teeth, each one of them seeking dominance and somehow both of them finding pleasure in the conflict.

She claimed him and he in turn fought to show his own dominance over her. He pressed harder into her and suddenly lightly pinched those beautiful nipples of hers. They wanted to leave a lasting sensation before leaving them to pull her top up over her head. Somehow he managed to do it without interrupting their mouths for more than a second.

But once the offending garment reached her wrists, rather than tossing it away, he twisted it and held her arms above her for a moment, incapacitated. He was letting her know, he was doing as he wished, and nothing she did would stop that.

What was important is that he did what he wanted. His fingers pinched the sensitive nipples, her breath catching on a soft moan. But she barely paused, her teeth nipping at his lip just a little more sharply when he did. She shivered and let him feel her shiver, her arms sliding up and above her head as his hands moved the clothing she wore off of her.

Her breasts, bare beneath the shirt, came free. Her back arched, pressing them to his chest, another little moan coming from her. Suddenly, her wrists were trapped. Her arms held above her, and she had the most peculiar reaction: she stopped struggling. She stopped fighting him, at least for the moment.

Her eyes closed, offering him her throat once again as her back arched to press against him again. Once again, her hips rolled, pressing against him. They were moving, though, in a gentle rhythm that promised him that she did know how to move, and that she moved well. For the moment, as their mouths met, their lips and tongues and teeth battling ... at the moment ... she let him control her. She had ceased her struggle.

Doing what he wanted was not a problem. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted. Her throat was offered and he took it joyfully, his mouth and teeth closing over it, scraping and teasing the skin to life, to distraction.

Such beautiful breasts seemed to beg his attention, and his mouth gave her one more nip and then found a nipple, popping it in her mouth and teasing it to attention, playing with it devilishly using his mouth, pressure, his tongue and gentle teeth. Oh yes, he was enjoying himself.

She stopped struggling and he had not idea why. His hips pressed back against her, answering her rhythm as well as working it, leading her into one that pleased and teased more, something he had learned over a long period of time. Oh she knew how to move and obviously well. But he knew tricks, teases.

His fingers teased her other breast for a moment, continuing as his mouth came away.. to speak.

"Would you have your hands free to play dear sister?"

Her voice was deep with her moans, the sounds that she made that promised and teased. It was sensual, somehow more sensual than the sweet cries that usually came from a woman's throat. And it was thick, oh-so-very thick with her passion when his teeth scraped over her throat, and even more so when his mouth found her breasts.

He shifted to settle into a more teasing rhythm as he pressed against her, and her hips answered him. The rhythm that he set for them was one she easily fell into. Her own hips rolled and undulated against him, teasing him, promising him even more heat than he could feel just at the moment.

Her back arched, offering those perfect breasts of hers to his teasing mouth and fingers. Her laugh was deep and rich, a thick chuckle of amusement that mingled with her passion and pleasure when he asked his question.

"Darling brother, you have me at a disadvantage. Do you really wish to ask me what I want now? I thought you had learned from Father."

Oh, yes, it was a jibe. This time, though, the jibe sounded more playful when it fell from her lips, rather than the insult that the words implied. Maybe a little bit of the insult leaked through, but she was what she was. And what she was, was a Toreador.